Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

JULY 29TH, 1666

F or the first time in years, Yves Francois LeSauvage didn't know what the hell he was doing.

As the Deep Water Demon, he was always in control. Focused. Even with his many sexual conquests, he never lost sight of who he was supposed to be. He never got attached.

So why had he invited the Ghost Hawk, his rival, to his safe haven?

He'd done it without thinking, simply following instinct. John would probably crack Yves's skull open with his bare hands when he heard the news. But despite the fact that it was clearly a terrible idea, Yves didn't intend to rescind his offer. His first mate would just have to trust him, just as he was asking Rowan to trust him.

Yves sat up against the headboard of Rowan's small bed. He'd convinced Rowan to let him spend just one night before he was exiled back to his own ship. He couldn't begrudge the other captain's mistrust of him. He wouldn't be so trusting if the situation were reversed. When he'd decided to seduce the Ghost Hawk—a strategic decision spurred on by curiosity more than anything—he thought it would simply be an extension of their rivalry. A quick fuck to get the aggression out. An outlet for the intensity between them. He had never intended to be seduced in turn. Fucking Rowan had only heightened his curiosity, and all the violence Yves had planned to inflict upon him to ensure his surrender now only lingered in the darkest recesses of Yves's soul, slumbering and satiated.

Being allowed to spend the night was a victory, and Yves hadn't pushed his luck by trying to seduce Rowan again. Even though he wanted to ravish the delicately handsome captain till he was whimpering and broken, Yves knew Rowan was in no condition to do it again so soon. Usually Yves would not have cared overmuch about the comfort of another beyond how it would affect his ability to get what he wanted. But right now, the things he wanted were jumbled and contradictory. He wanted to break Rowan but not hurt him. He wanted to keep him near and throw him away. And none of it made sense. They'd known each other for less than a day, yet Yves felt like he'd been hunting this man his whole life. He wanted to peel back the layers of Rowan's exterior and chew on the meat of his essence. Perhaps if Yves devoured him, the contradictions would clear away.

These thoughts rolled in Yves's head like a rock rolling through the tide, edges smoothing over time. Yet the more Yves's thoughts were tossed, the more jagged they became. His gaze caught on the murderous yellow hawk eyes watching him from the corner. The bird seemed able to read his intent more clearly than he could. She was ready to swoop in and claw his eyes out if he made a wrong move toward her master. Yves stared her down for a moment, then looked away to the stunning man sleeping by his side.

Rowan slept like a misbehaving toddler, sprawled on his back across the bed with his legs akimbo and his arms thrown over his head. One side of his open shirt had slipped down over his shoulder, exposing the top of the tattoo that resembled the skull and wings on his flag. Yves might have thought this chaotic sleeping position undignified in anyone else, but instead he found it strangely captivating. In sleep, all the ruthlessness of the Ghost Hawk had drained away from Rowan's face and left only innocence behind. It only served to heighten Yves's confusion further.

He let his eyes trace over Rowan's face and body. He was shorter than Yves by a few inches. Nevertheless, it gave his sleeping form an aura of something tiny and fierce, like a feral kitten. Most of his skin was tanned, but for the most intimate parts which remained pale white and unscorched by the unforgiving sun. His white-blond hair, which was usually pulled into a tail at the top to expose the close-shaved sides, had come loose from its tie and was now splayed across the pillows like a halo. His cheekbones were broad and smooth, framing a pointed, pixie-like nose, and his eyebrows were expressive even in sleep.

Yves watched Rowan's chest rise and fall, remembering the feel of his naked body. His surprisingly firm chest, slender waist, and gloriously plump ass. Yves shook his head, turning his eyes away before he got to the point where he'd have to wake this sleeping menace and ravish him all over again.

Yves was never intentionally cruel to his lovers as other men with power were. He prided himself on being gentlemanly and generous. But he wasn't sweet, nor doting. There would never be someone he couldn't leave behind. Never more than physical attraction or the thrill of a challenge. Anything beyond that was impossible. Such things served only to be devoured by the darkness that threaded its tentacles through his soul. Yet for Rowan, the darkness stirred up silt with every breath, choking out any scrap of reason or calculation.

He ran his finger over the scratches Rowan's nails had dug into his shoulders. The man had certainly left his mark.

July 30th, 1666

The next morning, after giving orders to Ga?l and Robin, Yves was exiled back to the Kraken's Fury . John met him in the luxurious captain's quarters. When Yves had first set foot on the Siren Song he'd found it quaint, but now looking over his own spacious quarters which spanned three separate rooms, he found himself missing the coziness of Rowan's room.

"I assume we're going home for repairs," John said matter-of-factly. That was what Yves liked about him. He was competent and didn't mince words; it must have been all that navy training he'd had before his disgrace.

"Yes, and the Siren Song is coming with us."

The first mate was silent for a moment, just staring at his captain with those intense eyes.

"Captain…" he said warningly.

"Spare me the lecture," Yves interrupted. "I know it's a stupid idea."

"And yet you're still going to do it. "

Yves flashed him the charming smile that had never worked on him. "I gave my word; it's already done." He knew he was being irrational. But the thought of letting Rowan go sent his guts twisting with something that felt worryingly like rage.

"I don't think you've fully considered the danger here." John's voice was low and stern, anger simmering beneath the surface. "A secret can only remain a secret if no one talks. How do you know you can trust him, or his crew for that matter?"

Yves was starting to regret not just having a yes man who followed orders as a first mate.

"I just do." He was about to continue to lay out his feeble arguments about alliances, but John cut him off.

"You're thinking with your dick," he snarled. "I never thought my captain would unnecessarily risk his crew for a quick fuck with some pretty boy. I know you've followed him for a while but now you've had him. So get over your obsession and kill the son-of-a-bitch so we can move on."

Yves was stunned into silence. John had always been blunt and practical, but he'd never talked to his captain like this . In the five years John had been his first mate, he'd never wavered in his loyalties. But of course as the only person Yves could reasonably call a friend, he'd seen the changes in Yves since the Ghost Hawk had started sailing, even if no one else noticed.

Yves had been interested in the legend of the Ghost Hawk since he'd first heard the stories many years ago. A young upstart of a pirate. Clever, swift, ruthless. He haunted the coasts like a fox stalking a chicken coop. Despite their differences Yves had developed a sense of rivalry with the other captain. He didn't know why. They were so different—they didn't even run in the same circles. Maybe he'd seen a reflection of himself in the tales told about the Ghost Hawk. Maybe he admired him. But he'd become fascinated by Rowan before he'd even learned his name. Like him, the Ghost Hawk had started from nothing and succeeded. His legend had become almost as big as the Deep Water Demon.

And when the Ghost Hawk had picked off a prize that Yves had his eye on, something finally snapped. His rivalry morphed into obsession, and his covetous eye turned from treasure to the Ghost Hawk himself. So he set a trap. He invaded the Hawk's territory, purposely taunting and provoking him. He knew it would drive the other captain out into deeper water looking for revenge and glory. Then, Yves hunted him. He hadn't expected to be presented the Siren Song and her intriguing captain on a silver platter, but when he saw the little ship waiting there acting helpless, it was more temptation than he could resist.

At first he'd simply wanted to test the man. To see what the Ghost Hawk was made of. Then as the tides of battle had turned, he'd wanted to annihilate him. But when he'd finally seen the other captain face-to-face, a new understanding had hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn't beat the Ghost Hawk. Not because he didn't have the power, but because he didn't want to. He wanted to know the Ghost Hawk, wanted to explore every inch of him, body and mind. Wanted him for himself.

The Deep Water Demon stepped in close to his first mate, glaring at him with new determination. There was no shame nor hesitation in his eyes.

"You know I never ask you to do as I say without reason. I can't explain why I am doing this, but I need you to trust me as you always have before. If my belief in him is misplaced, you can deal with it as you wish."

John stood defiant for a moment, and Yves thought he would have a mutiny on his hands right here and now. But then John took a step back.

"Okay, I'll trust you. But know I won't hesitate to put a bullet in his pretty little head if I have to."