Chapter 2

Tide

Disbelief spears through me at her words, but I move on instinct and catch the side of her head as she collapses, preventing her from knocking her skull on the deck. Her face captures my attention, and for a moment, I can't look away from her.

I study her high cheekbones, thin lips, and delicate nose in wonder. Yearning fills me.

Tangled locks of dark brown hair fall over her face, breaking my concentration. I settle her head on the deck before running my hands over her drenched form. Blood oozes from a gash on the back of her shoulder and a cut above her ear, but a glance at her hands reveals the worst of the damage. Shards of wood protrude from every digit and her palms prove no better. Her gnarled fingers and swollen knuckles look worse than mine after a brawl.

I tsk and settle her limbs to the floor before turning my attention to her companion.

With blue lips, pale skin, and labored breathing, the second female needs urgent attention. I rearrange her limbs and press my ear to her chest, but she's wearing too many layers. I rip her coat open, curse, grab the collars of all five remaining shirts, and wrench the fabrics in two from top to bottom.

Not an ounce of interest sparks in me as I bare her bruise-covered breasts. Ranging from deep purple to black, the bruises tell a horrible story of recent abuse.

I drop my ear to her sternum and curse again at the watery echo, but the beat of her heart is reassuring. I lift my head and check for broken ribs before placing my fist over her solar plexus. With a quick shove, I push the excess fluid from her lungs. She coughs and spews water, so I roll her onto her side and pat her back hard enough to encourage more out.

My senses perk as the female behind me wakes. The sound of her sluggish movements warns me of her approach, but I lean down to check her friend's breathing, exposing my back to her in silent challenge .

She's no match for my strength even when she isn't half drowned and exhausted, but I'm curious to see how far she'll go for her companion.

To my surprise, she crawls around me as though I'm not even here. Kneeling on the deck of my own ship with the sun beating down on my back and my pants drenched from their clothes, I battle disbelief, anger, and jealousy as the tiny female ignores my presence completely. She stops and pulls her friend's head into her lap and strokes her face and hair as she rocks back and forth.

"Gem! Oh, thank gods, you're okay. Keep breathing. It's okay, I'm here. I—"

I snatch her up and stalk toward the rear of the ship. She screeches and fights, but I tighten my arm around her midsection and ignore her struggles. With a few terse movements, I tug her wrists over her head, strap her forearms into the drying rack, and press my front against hers until she's trapped against the pole.

"Don't go anywhere, little female," I snarl before heading back toward her friend.

I smirk as her enraged yell follows me across the deck. My crew's worried faces peer out from the radio shack windows, but no one leaves their posts as I scoop the second female into my arms and carry her to the smaller butcher table on the port side of the rear deck. Used only for overflow when we haul extra fish, the metal is clean enough to glimmer despite the cloth shade covering the area. I lie her down, ignoring her shredded shirts, and lock a cuff around her ankle.

"Don't touch her!"

I ignore the sweet voice and wedge a burlap sack under the younger female's shoulder so she remains on her side.

"Leave her alone, you filthy pirate!"

My hackles rise. I can't ignore the insult.

As I stalk to her, her eyes widen, and the first trace of fear enters her gaze. I flatten her against the pole and yank her head back by her hair, using my forearm to buffer the torn flesh of her shoulder.

"Call me a pirate again, tiny treasure, and I'll plunder your depths right here, right now, in front of everyone."

Her brows scrunch.

"Everyone?" she asks.

I call out to my second-in-command and enjoy the emotions playing across my tiny omega's face as people emerge from between the ancient shipping containers.

All color drains from her face. Her pupils shrink. She meets my eyes and swallows.

"I'm not a pirate, little one. Don't call me one again," I snarl.

Her warm blood oozes down my arm in stark contrast to her wet, frigid clothes .

"Who are you?" she asks.

Taemin, my second in command, answers for me.

"He's The Barge . If you've never heard of him, it's because he's never left any survivors behind."

After years of eating, sleeping, and working alongside me, the tall beta male is wise enough to keep his distance while standing in my line of sight.

"So you are a pirate," she hisses.

I growl and wrap my fist around her throat.

"I told you to be careful with your words, omega ," I say as I lean my weight harder against her and tighten my grip on her throat.

Her breath hitches as my cock hardens against her stomach.

"If you're not a pirate, then what are you?"

"He's the captain of this ship, and a right good one at that, so you should heed his warning," Taemin says.

I flick him an unimpressed glance. He gets the message and clamps his mouth shut as he takes a step back.

"I'm the one in charge of your future, so choose wisely, little one. Want to call me a pirate again?"

She shakes her head as much as my grip on her hair and throat allows. I rumble my satisfaction and enjoy the way her eyes lose focus and the fresh flush of pink on her cheeks .

"Good. Now be still," I demand before releasing her throat and grabbing the hose from Taemin.

She gasps as I turn on the water, no doubt expecting it to be cold, but she closes her eyes and turns her face away in quiet retaliation. I yank her head back by her hair and rinse the worst of the salt from her scalp before getting her face, arms, and upper torso. She doesn't move when I step back and spray her lower half before moving around her and rinsing her back.

With the sun beating down on us and the water much warmer than the ocean, she no longer shivers from the cold, but she shakes from shock and exhaustion.

I toss the hose to Taemin and growl a low command before pulling my knife from my belt. As the males disappear between the storage containers, beta females descend on the table.

"No! Don't touch h—"

I push her head forward and twist my fingers deeper into her tangled locks before fitting the tip of my knife into the shredded material over her shoulder and slicing all layers to the bottom hem. The pearly expanse of her lower back tests my control, but the crimson seeping from her torn shoulder and the bruise spanning across her upper back fill me with fury. I try to cut the shoulder seams of her shirts, but can't with only one hand, so I snarl as I shove my knife back into its holster and carefully extract my digits from her mass of curls.

"I told you," I rip her right shoulder seams, "to only," I release the fabric and enjoy the revealing of her pale flesh, "worry about," I grab the fabric over her left shoulder, "yourself."

I wrench the material apart and step back as it falls to the deck.

She's gorgeous. Too thin, but I can fix that. Beat up, but I'll ensure it never happens again.

With cold fury in her eyes, she turns her head and glares at me over her bleeding shoulder. The thin ring of light brown around her dilated pupils tells of her failing grip on reality as she hovers on the verge of rampaging.

"And I told you I am worrying about myself. I need her. She's my sister. She's mine ."

My cock and knot harden, making my trousers too confining. Jealousy spears through me.

I want this tiny omega to need me as desperately as she needs her sister. I need her.

Without the layers of salt-water drenched clothes masking her scent, I fill my nostrils with her pheromones and release my breath on a purr.

Her sister wakes and fights with sluggish movements and unfocused eyes.

I step forward, skim my hands up my omega's sides, and splay my fingers over her ribs, enjoying the soft curves of her underbust. She hisses and tries to lean away, but I pull her flush against my front and lean down so my lips brush her ear.

"Do you need her that badly, tiny treasure?"

A glance down nearly undoes me. Her pert breasts squashed against the hard ridges of my abdominals highlights our differences. I long to explore every inch of her curves.

"What will you do for her?" I growl.

She swallows. Her flesh pebbles. With a lift of her chin, she shows her devotion.

"Anything," she says.

"Anything?" I growl.

"Yes. Anything. Do whatever you want with me. Just don't hurt her."

My cock pulses and fiery lust roars through my veins.

"No, Pearl, don't say that. Not for me," her sister half-mumbles, half-cries from the table.

I brush my thumb along the lower swell of her breast.

"Pearl? That's a pretty name. It's fitting for a treasure like you," I say in a voice so deep it's a wonder she can understand me, but she shivers and takes a deep breath.

"If I asked you to drop to your hands and knees and present that pretty little pussy up for me right here, right now, would you?"

She seals her fate with a single syllable.

"Yes."