Chapter 1

At the sound of my father’s angry voice bellowing down the hall, I race across the room and slam the door closed with my momentum. Not wasting time on the broken locks, I drop the metal bar in place and grab the sack sitting underneath the lopsided bench.

“Time for hide and seek,” I call out just loud enough for Sail, my eleven-year-old brother, to hear over the rush of water on the hull from the bedroom.

“Reef, show me where to hide,” I insist as I reach down to take his tiny five-year-old hand on my way across the room.

He abandons his toy blocks and tucks his ragged doll under his arm before grabbing my hand and running as fast as his little legs will carry him, just like we practiced. My heart pounds against my sternum and adrenaline heightens my senses as my father’s heavy boots stomp closer.

He’s angry. Very angry.

As angry as the night he killed my mom.

Fear and fury clog my throat and prickle at the back of my eyes. He can’t know I planned to run away with my brothers, but his anger suggests otherwise.

Sail darts out of the bedroom, almost tripping me in his haste, but I press my palm to his back and urge him forward even faster. He yanks the small box off the warped and tarnished kitchen counter on his way past and hugs it to his chest as he slips into the long, narrow storage hideaway between the kitchen and the washroom.

Memories flash through me, and I fight a bout of nausea as I recall my mother’s sweet voice as she urged me into the space and closed the panel behind me.

I was a stubborn child. Not like these boys. They’re so sweet and precious.

At only five years old, Reef is too young for us to know his dynamic with any certainty, but as he dives into the mound of ratty but clean fabrics at the back of the cubby, I wonder if he might present as an omega, but his omega tendencies could be born out of habit and not instinct. He was so young when our father stole our mother away from us, and the only way I could stop Reef from crying was to share mother’s nest with him.

I sidestep into the narrow room and drop the sack in front of Sail. The space is so narrow my shoulders brush both walls, but I squat and meet his eyes. When I reach out to touch his face, he leans into my palm and cups my hand.

“Don’t come out, no matter what you hear. Understand?” I demand.

He nods. The fear shining from his blue eyes—which look so much like mother’s—twists my stomach, but I push the sensation away and give him a quick kiss on the forehead before shuffling out of the room and swinging the panel closed.

“Lock it, Sail. Just like we practiced,” I urge through the thin metal.

When I hear the makeshift latches slide into place, I praise him and rush back into the kitchen.

The front door rattles as I grab the small chopping knife.

Screams echo down the hall, and as my father curses, I realize there’s more to his anger than his usual drunken madness. The entire ship shakes as the sound of violence grows louder.

“Open the goddamn door, Iris,” my father yells as he bangs his fist on the metal.

I rush into the main room.

My father growls before going eerily quiet. I brace my legs and bring my puny knife up in front of me, preparing for the worst.

My father kicks the door so hard the metal warps and the beam cracks. I flinch on instinct but square my shoulders and tighten my grip on the knife.

“I said, open the goddamn door, bitch,” my father screams before kicking it harder.

The bar clatters to the floor in pieces. My legs tremble as fear and fury flood my system. The door swings open to reveal my father’s bulky frame. My stomach sours as the stench of alcohol invades my nostrils. His bloodshot eyes meet mine.

“Come here. We’re leaving. Now,” he snarls.

The screaming and shouting from down the hall grow louder. I shuffle backward and raise my knife higher as he stomps toward me.

“No, I—”

Pain blasts through my head as he slaps me so hard my face whips to the side. His fingers clamp around my wrist in a cruel, unbreakable grip. He twists until pain lances up my arm. The knife clatters to the ground. My heart sinks.

“Stop testing me. Shut your filthy mouth and follow me.”

I dig my heels into the floor and attack his arm, but he pulls me toward the door.

“No! I won’t leave them,” I cry.

“I should’ve killed those stupid brats years ago,” he snarls.

I grab the doorframe and kick at his shins.

My father’s beta guards turn the corner. Bloody and bruised, they barrel toward us as though fleeing from a monster.

“You fucking cowards. Get ba—”

I slam my knee into my father’s groin, taking advantage of the distraction, and dart back into the room. Skidding in my haste, I snatch the knife off the floor and lunge into the kitchen before he catches me.

I scream and buck as he bear hugs me from behind, lifting me off my feet and trapping my arms at my sides. Pain lances up my leg as I kick a chair over, but he spins around and heads back into the living room.

He stops in his tracks. My heart lurches in my chest.

Bright green eyes shine down from an alpha so tall the doorframe blocks his forehead. Freckles pepper his nose and cheekbones while thin white scars trail over his face and neck and even further down to disappear under his collar. Blood splatters cover him from head to toe. His full lips twist into a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

A low vibration flows from his chest.

My stomach clenches and heat arrows through my midsection.

“Isn’t this a sweet surprise?” says the giant as he ducks through the doorway. I stare at the shock of red hair on his head, unable to look away.

The stories must be true. This flame-haired demon, known as The Battleship, is the most feared alpha in the entire ocean. He kills without scruples and tortures those who go against him without mercy. He’s evil and rumored to be crueler than my father.

Terror joins the warmth swirling in my belly.

He steps closer. My father’s growl vibrates into my back, erasing the sweet sensations caused by the newcomer. Vomit climbs up my throat.

Denial roars through me as cold metal rests against my throat.

“Don’t come any closer,” my father snarls.

A humorless chuckle leaves the demon’s throat.

“You knew I was coming. I left you so many clues. Is this really the best you could do?”

I wince as the tip of my father’s blade nicks my skin. A warm line of blood trails over my collarbone and burning pain pulses through my throat.

The Battleship’svibrant emerald orbs narrow on my neck. His nostrils flare. Warmth pulses through my veins, but my father’s stench turns my stomach.

“Stop using your scrawny offspring as a shield and fight me like a man,” the gigantic alpha challenges.

“Why would I do that? Aren’t you here for her?” my father growls.

“No, old man. I’m here for you.”

The calm emanating from the devil fills me with dread as I sense the storm raging within his soul.

“Liar. She’s an omega.”

“And you’re the alpha who murdered my family.” He cocks his head as my father stiffens. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me. Twenty years ago. I might have been a bit smaller back then.”

My father presses the knife harder against my throat. I dare not swallow and force myself to breathe evenly so the blade doesn’t sink deeper into my skin.

“I was ten when you killed everyone I knew. It would’ve been kinder to ensure I was dead, too, but I suppose you’ve always been sloppy.”

The insult breaks my father’s composure.

I grunt as I hit the floor, discarded in my father’s rage as he charges.

I scramble back into the kitchen and throw the chairs into the walkway before sweeping my arms over the table, knocking the small, pointy metal shards we use to practice counting across the floor.

It won’t deter The Battleship, especially with the thick soles of his boots protecting his feet, but I have to do everything I can to protect my brothers.

I stand with my back to the hideaway and square my shoulders with the living room doorway. My fingers ache, but I can’t loosen my grip on the knife.

Snarls and blows ring through the air. I fight for breath as alpha aggression clogs my sinuses.

Across the kitchen and through the doorway, I meet shimmering green orbs.

Evil shouldn’t lurk within such beauty. Green represents things of the past. Things I’ve never seen before, except in the faded children’s books my mother left behind. Fields of grass. Flowers. Trees. Little bugs hopping from leaf to leaf.

Crimson spurts from my father’s nose as The Battleship buries his fist into his face again.

I don’t need to see the rest of the fight to know who wins, but I can’t peel my gaze from the brutal display.

The Battleshipstraddles my father’s shoulders and punches him several more times before lifting him by the collar.

Vicious satisfaction flows through me as the male who terrorized me from birth coughs weakly and whimpers underneath the enemy he created with his own folly.

The warped sense of vindication morphs to horror as the mountain of an alpha rumbles out the worst words I’ve ever heard.

“I won’t kill you, Gordon. Not yet. Not until I’ve gotten my revenge.” He leans down and shakes my father, ensuring he has his full attention. “I’m going to take everything from you, starting with that daughter you’re so eager to boast about.” His voice drops impossibly deeper as he looks up and captures my eyes with his again. “I’ll make her my plaything. My broken toy. When I finally decide to throw her away, then I might allow you to die.”

With my stomach in knots and ice forming around my heart, I watch as he punches my father one last time before standing and throwing him across the room. Other men filter in through the front door, but I keep my eyes glued on the biggest threat.

The Battleshipsteps over the kitchen threshold and kicks the chairs off to the side with a single sweep of his leg, never breaking my stare.

Dread builds as he looms closer. I shift my grip on my knife and fight the sense of futility washing over me.

He pauses as Sail shuffles deeper into the cubby. Possessive fury wakes in my soul.

When his green eyes shift to the panel behind me, I lose myself in omega instincts for the first time in my life.

His size and power mean nothing.

I will protect my brothers.

He can’t have them.

They’re mine.