Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Chapter 27: Do What You Must

Keaton

Robbie rolled the cigarette between his fingers in the shelter of his coat, tucking it behind his ear as we watched the rusted fishing boat approach. I gave Robbie a look, tilting my head toward the vessel.

“Looks like only a fishin’ boat, Cap.”

“Aye, but in such shallow waters, and in this storm?” I turned my head to look back at the shore of the small cove that was currently our refuge from the raging open waters. Rain was pounding the decks, bouncing off the wood panels and rolling off the sails above our heads. The thick trees hanging over the sandy cliff face were inundated with rain, their thick leaves hanging toward the murky green water.

“She’s headed right for us, Cap.”

I sighed, smacking my lips and pushing away from the railing, giving the approaching ship one last look before clapping him on the shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what her crew wants then, shall we?”

I descended the stairs to the lower deck, nodding at my crew as I passed them. We were anchored, the sails drawn in and the crew at leisure, at least for the moment. We would not be docking in Valoria tonight, not with twelve-foot swells preventing us from crossing the channel.

Young Pete stood at the lower railing, watching the ship with a pair of binoculars as it rocked in the waves, “They’re dropping a rowboat!” His voice was edged with excitement as he leaned over the railing.

“You’ll fall in,” I said, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him off the railing. “That’s a right way to die, lad.”

“I was just-” He paused, forgetting himself. “Yes, Captain.”

I patted him on the chest and turned toward the railing, watching as three men began to battle the waves in the small skiff, their oars beating helplessly against the unforgiving sea.

“No shifting on the boat, remember?” I turned to Young Pete, the newest member of our crew. He nodded, his head bobbing up and down as he did so. He was just a pup, really, freshly twenty-one and full of the angst and adrenaline all young men possessed when they finally came into their powers. I never took pollywogs so young, but Pete had nearly begged on his knees for the opportunity.

Looking for his mate, most likely. What better way to find a mate than by mopping floors on a smuggling ship for a few months?

I turned to Robbie, my second in command. He was leaning on the railing, watching the three men struggling to close in on the Persephone.

“Should we go out and help em’,you think?”

“No,” I said dryly, wiping rainwater from my brow. “We’ll only lower the ladder for them when they get close.”

in the hell did

red-faced and steaming with heat when they finally climbed over the railing and put their water logged boots

his life. He walked like it, talked like

so. pal.” Robbie drew a long knife from his belt, holding it out in front of him. The two younger men who had accompanied the old man on the trek

as he pulled a damp parcel out of his coat, holding it up in surrender. “Someone paid a pretty penny to have this delivered to you

parcel from the old man as I looked around at my crew, who were standing in a semicircle around the three men. Muffled laughter rang out, drowned out by the rain. “Take the boys to the galley, feed em’,”

and they reluctantly followed the crew through the wide doors leading to the lower levels of the ship. I motioned for the old man to follow me to

a place you got here,” the man said, looking up to admire the murals painted on the ceiling of my spacious lodgings. His eyes danced over the gold painted trim and ceiling-high bookshelves. “First editions?” he asked

of pirate would I be if they

man chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve heard things about this ship. I assumed it was all an exaggeration. A real pirate ship on the

Do

know who you are. One

Paid a steep price to have one of our ships

to open the soggy parcel. There was a paper napkin inside, crumpled and the ink smeared but still legible I held

four

and put it in my pocket. It was from Troy. He was asking for

a second note, scribbled almost illegibly at the bottom of the napkin, was written in panic, the pen he had used poking holes and dragging the

plan to invade. Don’t get involved, cut

the galley. You and your men can stay

the door leading out of the captain’s quarters. “I gotta get back before the dock is swarmed with the delayed boats. I’ II let em’

leave. Troy never acted out of panic, never. He was as level-headed as they come. Something was about to happen though; I could feel it coming through the words in his

a small sack of coins and gems, picking

out of the captain’s quarters in silence, shielding my face from the rain with my hand as he walked across the deck and through the doors leading down

was still standing near the railing, watching the fishing vessel rock in

I quickly locked the door behind us, squeezing the water

a large map of the coast of

against the desk, looking down

moving

peered at the map, his brow arched as he followed my finger

running my finger along the river’s winding form, “meets up with the