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Every step back to The Heartbreak had been a struggle, but Pogue feels better once she’s sailing away from the Haven and back toward Port Tiev. The sooner he gets rid of the siren on their ship, the sooner he can get back to Wayke. He pointedly ignores the irony in that after years of pretending he didn’t care, and while he doesn’t relish the thought of telling Kenz or the rest of his crew, he decides that it doesn’t matter in the end. He’d never deny any of them this comfort, so why should they deny him?
He is surprised to find that a couple of his crew members took a few selkies and two other sirens as prizes. It hadn’t taken long to get from their island to the Haven, but he’d been distracted with a one-track mind that didn’t include creatures that shouldn’t exist by any law of nature. With that in mind, he turns the helm over to one of Renton’s most trusted hands to let his sailing master rest and makes his way to the mainmast.
Abesti looks far less afraid than Pogue expected him to, but in the overall scheme of things, he’s not surprised. If he were trapped on an enemy ship with virtually no allies aboard, the last thing he would do is show fear.
“Nice weather, eh?” Pogue taunts, stepping close enough to see the faint scales lining Abesti’s skin. “Consider yerself our guest of honor. Yer the only one aboard this ship that gets to just stand around.”
The smirk on his face is visible behind his gag, and Pogue is tempted to rip it off his face and figure out why he’s so smug. He’s been taken against his will, uncomfortably held on a ship with gritty pirates, and worst of all: he’s about to be handed over to an enemy. He could be dead in days, and yet his eyes hold no fear. Quite the contrary; he looks rather pleased with himself.
“Yeh know yer hold on me brother will be gone within the hour if it isn’t already?” Pogue teases. “I know about yer little kiss, siren. And I know how ta fix it.”
Abesti huffs and looks away, and Pogue gets the impression that hold has already been broken. Nevertheless, the siren’s eyes still dance in a way that makes Pogue want to deck him.
“Keep yer secrets, then. We’ll be rid of yeh soon enough.” He lets the relief he feels for Kenz drown out the anger at this siren’s confidence and turns to face the rest of his crew. “And what exactly did yeh bring them for, eh? Not enough doxies on board for yer tastes, or do yeh just have a death wish now?”
“Wanted ta feck a siren, Capt’n. Figured this quim was off limits... also figured this wasn’t against code... they’re not human.”
“Aye, Captain, but we’ll slit their throats if yeh say so,” Renton adds, eyeing Riston in a way that has his mouth snapping shut.
Pogue sighs at both of them and rubs his beard. “Human or not, we don’t rape. If they sing to yeh or kiss yeh, yer fecked. Throw ‘em overboard. The selkies, too. Maybe the sirens can ride their slimy backs all the way to the Isle of Dread.” He turns his back to them so he doesn’t have to watch the events that follow. He can hear the grunting of his crew and the muffled pleas of the sirens, and then multiple splashes as they follow his order. He straightens up, throwing a pleased smirk toward Abesti. “Still think yeh’ve got the upper hand?”
When all the siren does is meet his eyes and nod, it sends a chill up Pogue’s spine that makes him wish they weren’t on the open water for the first time in his life. “Wystan, take our guest down to the brig. The one without windows. Keep him gagged and make sure yer watchin’ him at all times.”
Renton and Ris help manhandle the siren down below deck, but Pogue doesn’t relax in the slightest. Instead, he barks an order at no one in particular to fetch his brother.
When Kenz returns, he looks as sharp as ever, so Pogue finds solace in the fact that at least one thing is going in their favor. His ridiculous grin fades when he sees the seriousness on his Captain’s face, and he walks a little faster to reach him. “P... what is it?”
“Do yeh ever feel like there’s a black cloud hangin’ over yer head, and yer just waitin’ for it to rain?”
“Aye.” Kenz looks around them, his hand naturally gravitating to his cutlass. “Where the feck is he?”
“Down below. Figured it wasn’t a good idea to announce to the world that we’ve got him.” Pogue shifts, leaning against the mast where Abesti had just been. “I don’t like any of this, Kenz. What does Gnash even want with him?”
His brother takes a deep, calming breath and shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “I reckon we ask ‘em ourselves, P. Before we hand the quim over.”
“We will. Just don’t know what good it’ll do.” Pogue opens his mouth to continue, but the appearance of Wystan makes him change course. “Oi! Aren’t yeh supposed to be in the brig?”
“Aye. Got two men on ‘em now. Yeh want me standin’ around with me balls in me hands too?”
Kenz’s blade is pressed below his chin before Pogue can even process the movements. “Say the word, Cap. Been itchin’ for some Kenz’s Luck, but I’ll settle for cutting this one’s tongue out through his throat.”
“Well? Which part of my order wasn’t clear to yeh?” Pogue asks. “Didn’t know I needed ta spell things out. I wanted yeh on first watch.”
“It’s not my fecking job ta watch yer prisoners, Captain,” Wystan spits. He doesn’t look fazed by Kenz’s blade at all, which helps make up Pogue’s mind.
He chuckles softly. “Then go ahead, Kenz. Let's play a game.”
When his brother meets his eyes, Pogue gets a flash of that same little boy that used to follow him around and search for his approval. “Aye, Captain.” Kenz turns toward Wystan with a sneer. “What do yeh choose, Boatswain? The cup, like a coward, or me blade?”
“Yer not serious,” Wystan says as fear clouds his eyes. “I’ll go, Captain. I’ll take first watch; I’ll take them all!”
Pogue clicks his tongue. “Little too late for that. Yeh’ve been mouthy as of late, Wys. I think yeh need a little reminder about what happens to pirates like you. So choose, or I’ll be choosin’ for yeh.”
Panic makes Wystan’s hands shake as he brings them up to his chest in self-defense. “I— feck. The blade. I’ll take the blade.”
“There it is.” Kenz leans in and sniffs him in an exaggerated manner. “Yeh smell it, Captain? Raw fear... gets me dick hard. Get below deck, yeh quim. You’ve forgotten the Hallam way.... it’s time we remind you.”
As Wystan trips over himself trying to obey, Pogue finds himself missing Wayke all over again. The brutality here only serves to remind him how nice the alternative can be, but he won’t let any of this stop him from bringing Wayke aboard if he was serious.
“Anyone else forgotten our way?” he asks the rest of the crew. “I’m sure Kenz would love ta use one of yeh as target practice first.”
“Aye, Kenz would. I want everyone to watch,” he growls, following Wystan closely while they head below, but before Pogue can follow, Henley grabs his arm.
“Everything okay, Captain?”
He watches his brother disappear below deck and resigns himself to telling the truth alone. “Define okay. Seems like the chips are stacked against us at the moment, Hen.”
“I know this is yer crew’s punishment and not mine, but can I come below and watch?”
“Aye. Dunno why he doesn’t just do it above deck, to be honest. Kenz always loved an audience, and punishments around here don’t mean much if no one sees ‘em doled out. But he’s got his own way of doin’ things, always has. Go on, Hen. Just be warned... Methinks he likes this game a little too much, sometimes.”
“Aye, Captain... that’s what I’m hopin’ for.” Henley winks over her shoulder and follows a few other crew members down the creaking steps, but Pogue stays above deck for a few more moments.
Punishing his crew members is always hard for him — particularly when they apologize and admit they’d been in the wrong — but Wystan is from an older generation. He was one of the few that didn’t believe Pogue deserved his father’s hat when he was elected, and throughout their time together as Captain and Boatswain, Wystan has challenged him and belittled him more than once. If a single round of Kenz’s Luck can make him see things differently, well... Pogue won’t save him.
He simply should’ve known better than to challenge a Hallam.
~
KENZ KEEPS HIS GAZE locked on Wystan as he stands as tall as he can against Kenz’s practice wall. He couldn’t count the number of times the wood has had to be fixed since the day he could throw a blade, but everyone on their crew knows it’s his favorite part of the ship. Hundreds of holes line the surface, and when he’s finished with their boatswain, even more will be added — six, if he’s feeling generous. Based on Wystan’s attitude as of late, the latter isn’t likely. No, one of these knives will find a home in his skin, that isn’t a question; the only question there is, is whether Kenz will be nice and get it over with on the first throw, or drag it out and torture him.
The shuffling in the room dying down lets Kenz know everyone important is here, and when he spots Weasel and Rat, it only solidifies his choice to make Wystan squirm more than he normally would; they need to see this. “Anythin’ else ta say, quim?”
Wystan bites his tongue, desperately trying to look like he isn’t as afraid as he truly is — but Kenz wasn’t joking, he smells fear... and all it does is egg him on.
“Very well.” Kenz looks around the room and spots Henley, making his smile grow even wider. “For those of yeh who don’t understand the game, I’ll explain it to yeh. It’s called Kenz’s Luck, though luck’s got nothin’ ta do with it. One of me blades will hit ‘im. Which one is normally up to me, but today, I’m going to let the boys choose. “Rat... first throw?” Rat shakes his head, his eyes dancing from excitement, and when Kenz lets that first blade fly, it hits home just to the right of Wystan’s head. “Oi, don’t flinch. It’s not gonna save yeh today. Weasel?”
Kenz shakes his next blade at the boy and he doesn’t even think twice. “No, Quartermaster. Not yet.”
“Yeh heard the lad.” His second blade hits just under Wystan’s hand, and his jerk only makes Kenz laugh even harder. Blades three and four cage in Wystan’s head, and when Kenz lines up to throw blade number five, he catches Weasel’s eye and knows it’s time to make the boatswain scream.
Although Kenz could hardly bandage up a paper cut, he knows the locations of a man’s important arteries, and as much as he’d love to end Wystan for constantly second-guessing Pogue, he knows now isn’t the time. He reminds himself that he should hold a level of respect for their senior — one of the only members left from Reks Hallam’s reign — even if he’s always gotten a bad vibe from him.
With Wystan’s duties, Kenz knows he needs his writing hand. He aims for the other instead, because regardless of the rare work Wystan does, he doesn’t have any need for a left pinky. When the blade hits Wystan, the tip of his smallest finger falls to the floor, but Kenz ignores the stream of profanities from his mouth and walks over to grip that finger and squeeze. “Who’s yer captain?”
“Feck! Pogue Hallam!” Wystan growls, his eyes glued to the blood dripping down through Kenz’s fist.
“Aye, Pogue fecking Hallam is yer captain. If Pogue fecking Hallam tells yeh to suck his cock from the back, what are yeh gonna do?”
The boatswain struggles this time, and Kenz can see the moment the fight in him dissipates. “Suck his cock—” he pauses, and Kenz leans in even further to encourage him to continue “—from the back.”
“Aye... that’s a good lad. Go wrap up yeh fecking hand and then clean all this blood before it rots. Not one of you quims better try and help this cocksucker clean... he needs to remember every moment of Kenz’s Luck.” Kenz releases him and takes a step back, spitting down on his boots for good measure.
Whether it’s the adrenaline, the blood, or the fact that Henley saw this side of him, he isn’t sure, but part of him knows it’s a combination of all three to blame for the hard mass between his legs. He needs her, almost as badly as he needed her to free him of that siren’s hold, and one look at her lets him know she wants him just as much. Kenz reaches her in three strides, and even though the room is full of pirates, they all disappear into the background as he lifts her up and starts his way toward his quarters. But when she bites his ear, he knows they won’t make it.
“Feck this.” Kenz sets the Captain down and spins her around, pressing her face against the hallway wall as he shoves down her pants. “I don’t care who sees... yer mine now, Henny. Fecking mine.”
It’s obvious from the way her body tenses that the Captain in her is fighting this. She knows it’s bad form to let a crew — even if it’s not her own — see her like this, all vulnerable and owned by someone else... but she also doesn’t do anything at all to try to get away. “Kenz... K-uh—”
His name dies on her tongue as he slides inside of her, and Kenz loves the way it feels when her knees weaken. No one is in the hallway at the moment, so he speeds up his movements, wanting to get that first orgasm out of her while they’re alone. “Let me have it, Henny.”
Her beautiful body goes taut as her orgasm builds, and when she finally tips, it might feel better for Kenz than it does for her. She claws at the walls in front of her as her moans fill the space around them, and he doesn’t stop there. He lifts her off her feet by her hips and barrels deep inside of her. “Feck... need yeh every fecking day.”
“Kenz!” Her cry is nearly as much out of surprise as it is pleasure, and it’s loud enough that Alcott comes racing around the corner.
“Capt— fecking hells, sorry!” He dashes back the way he came, and Kenz doesn’t stop for a moment. He drags another orgasm out of Henley as her grip on the wall starts to slip, and within seconds he’s slamming deep inside her and filling her up with a growl.
“Yer feckin’ mine, Henny. All feckin’ mine.” He pulls her into a kiss by her jaw and shows her just how much he means his words.
“Did I make an honest man out of a Hallam?” she asks with a breathless laugh. “Gettin’ soft on me, Kenz?”
“Feck off.” Kenz pulls back, angry at his own face for smiling at her like an idiot. He slaps her ass for good measure and then pulls her in for another kiss by her hair. “Did it feel soft, Henny?”
“Nah.” She bites her bottom lip, but she’s grinning just as wide. “Yer just a little cute when you get all possessive.”
“Cute? The feck is cute? I’m a bloody pirate... not a cute bone in me fecking body.” Kenz fixes her pants roughly and then tugs her toward his quarters without a look back.
Her laughter irritates him, but when he shoves her inside the room and sees the look on her face, he can’t bring himself to be angry. “It’s a compliment, yeh brute,” she says quietly. “Yeh think I let many men get possessive of me and live to tell the tale?”
Knowing he’s falling right into her trap doesn’t deter him in the slightest from feeling exceedingly possessive over her. Kenz cages her against the door and lifts her to slot between her legs so there’s nowhere for her to go. “I know yeh don’t... reckon you’ve worn more than enough cocks around that pretty little neck.” He wraps a hand around it and kisses her fiercely. “Anyone tries to touch yeh, Hen... I’ll kill them without blinking.”
She bites his lip hard and meets his eyes with an intense expression. “No more doxies, Kenz. If we’re gonna do this... it’s us. No one else. Savvy?”
Regardless of setting himself up for this, he still didn’t see that coming — but before he can even think twice about it, he’s nodding his head. Henley isn’t a woman you deny. “Aye... yer tryin’ ta kill me, woman... but aye.”
The kiss that answers him is worth it. It’s worth more than any doxie in any port, if he’s being honest. “I’ll stay close. I won’t give up me ship or me crew, but... The Anguish won’t ever be far from The Heartbreak unless Pogue commands it. Yeh can have me whenever yeh choose, Kenz. Yeh won’t need doxies.”
“Aye... yer ruinin’ me reputation. M’yers, woman... and yer all mine... don’t make me regret it.” Even as he says the words, he knows he doesn’t have to. Henley’s it for him.