I took Charlotte on this longship for her skill with maps, to guide us past our rivals and secure the hoard. Yet each day her soft defiance chips at the iron I wrapped around my heart after losing my crew.
The sea surges and she grabs my forearm to stay upright, her touch searing through the fabric while the men look elsewhere. I should order her away. Instead I let the moment stretch, the hunger to breed her, to fill her and bind her to me as both shield and possession, rising like the tide I cannot outrun.
If I cross this line the fragile alliance that keeps us alive will crack under the fears we both refuse to name.
