This story is being republished on wattpad! The whole series in already on Amazon and Smashwords! Enjoy :D
A chain and a collar can imprison a nobleman, but what could entrap a devil?
Only the innocence of a fallen angel.
Once upon a time, there was...
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∞ Nyx's POV ∞
Upon catching sight of me, his gaze immediately locked onto mine, and a faint smile graced his face. "Look who's finishing work early," he remarked. I simply shrugged in response. "Ever since you followed me around all day, your crew seems to be treating me better. I suppose they're afraid the big bad wolf might pounce on them out of nowhere." His laughter echoed through the air. "You can bet they are. Well, I'm pleased to see you're adjusting well around here."
He gracefully assumed one of his most captivating poses, perching on the bowsprit and gazing out towards the deck. One arm casually rested on a half-folded leg, while the other leg dangled beyond the deck's edge. A gentle breeze danced with his flowing gray hair, causing my envious fingers to twitch involuntarily. Against the backdrop of the rippling jibs, he exuded a magnetic charm and an air of strength—a true captain, reigning over the sea. Another pang of jealousy washed over me as I immersed myself in his enchanting and ethereal presence.
Glancing around the forecastle deck, I noticed Maren standing beside me, engaged in her usual ceaseless chatter, as well as two other individuals. Gathering my courage, I inched closer to Agenor, determined to set aside his overwhelming charisma, and spoke softly, "Agenor, I need to speak with you."
He cast me a perplexing look before uttering, "Finally." I couldn't help but question, "What?" His smirk widened as he glanced to my right. "Maren! Return to your post," he commanded. Without missing a beat, Maren winked at me and swiftly grabbed hold of a rope. With astonishing agility, he ascended the main mast, using his legs to navigate while his hands clung to the taut rope. I never grew tired of watching his impressive display of skill.
Turning his attention to my left, Agenor addressed the two pirates engaged in an arm-wrestling match atop an unsteady barrel. "You," he said sternly, "the loser serves beer tonight. Wrap it up." In an instant, a serious atmosphere engulfed the scene. The two pirates grinned wickedly, determined to emerge victorious and evade the undesirable fate of becoming servants to a horde of drunken pirates.
From his perch high up the mast, Maren bellowed, "My bet's on Dreg!" The contest didn't last long; the barrel, apparently weary of their evenly matched strength, tilted to the side, declaring Dreg as the winner. Frustrated, the loser exclaimed, "Fuck! That's unfair. The damn barrel is faulty!"
"I'm too sober to listen to your complaints! Fetch me a beer, servant."
Grumbling reluctantly, the defeated pirate trudged away, stumbling along the way. Dreg trailed behind him, proudly boasting of his triumph.
"So, I suppose this is regarding what happened earlier before our encounter. Tell me, what exactly startled you like that?" he inquired.
"Ugh, stop prying into every little thing!" I retorted.
