Under Black Skies (Beneath Black Sails, #3)

by Clare Sager

“Everyone leaves,” she muttered, so quietly, it might’ve been to herself rather than him. “They leave, they die, or they let you down. I know that. I know.” His heart shrivelled. Oh, Vee. He fastened both hands around the cup to keep them from her.

But every time he and Vee touched, it shook through him, stirring a storm of emotions—care, want, comfort, desire, a drive to protect… All of it far too strong for just friends. And every touch chiselled away his self-control.

“Are you in love with Blackwood?” Aedan asked. The words jolted through Vice like gunshots. “What?” In spite of the warm mud and rum-fire in her belly, a chill prickled its way down her spine. Silence consumed the clearing. Knigh stared at a point on the mud-pool’s surface a foot away from his chest, face still, eyebrows raised. Vice laughed, shaking her head. “What—that’s… ridiculous.” “Ridiculous, huh?” Aedan’s chin lifted. “The way you reacted earlier when you thought he’d fallen and died—”

“Kiss Aedan.” Saba’s voice was soft, but with the quietness hanging over the pool, it carried. “Or Blackwood.” Vice froze. Her heart was somewhere in her feet—no, further down, squelching in the mud under her toes. Saba stared back, mouth flat, brows tight. That look. This wasn’t a game anymore. Was Saba asking her to prove she didn’t have feelings for Knigh by choosing Aedan?

It was getting harder and harder to pretend being her friend was enough. It wasn’t just that he wanted to touch her, to hold her, to do wonderful, wicked things to her. He wanted to sleep at her side, to whisper secrets in her ear and listen to hers, to share himself, his life… everything.

“Just Vice,” Knigh muttered, leaning closer to Billy. “She doesn’t like Miss Vice—gets a bit… stabby.”

“I realised something earlier.” She took another gulp of her drink for courage. Because she, Lady Vice the notorious Pirate Queen of a dozen exaggerated stories, was afraid. Admitting this. That she wanted him. That it was more than just bodies. That…

“I—I’m sorry, I don’t…” Another shake of his head. “If I gave the impression that I wanted… then I’m sorry. But you’re drunk and”—he met her eye—“I don’t want just bodies with you.” His jaw flexed, then he turned and stalked away. She opened her mouth to argue but… But her tongue had gone thick and slow and stupid again. What was she meant to say? How could she argue? He’d said no. He’d rejected her. But you’re drunk and I don’t want just bodies with you.

“Now you’re… a pirate.” She giggled and covered her mouth. “It sounds so… improbable. And yet, here we are.” She flashed him a glinting look, lifting her chin. “My brother the pirate. I’m still proud of you, you know.” His chest stilled, suddenly too full to take in air. I’m still proud of you, you know. Despite deserting. Despite becoming the very thing he’d hunted and despised.

“So,” Perry said. “You’ve made a decision, then?” Her heart, her lungs—all out of control. If she couldn’t give Perry this simple answer, how in the world was she going to tell Knigh everything she needed to? So she swallowed and tamed her breaths to a sensible rhythm as she did when she focused to work her gift. “I have. And… it is worth it.”

don’t want this to be like on the Swallow, or in the glow-worm cave. I don’t want us to just give into a thing that’s been bubbling away. We didn’t make the decision to do anything more than screw in that cave, and at Yule we were rash and drunk and sad and longing. But this? I want this to be our choice. A decision made, not a desire given in to.” She dragged in a lungful of air, despite the tightness of her chest. “So I need to know, Knigh. Do you want me? Do you want to be with me?”

“Oh, you’ll have your answer. But I want to check I fully understand your question. That I’m not mistaken.”

“So, you’re asking whether I want you mentally”—her lungs stopped working as his thumb brushed down her temple, contact at last, warm and longed-for, a bright light in her awareness—“emotionally”—his hand lowered and he ran the backs of his knuckles from her collar bone to a spot right above her heart, where the swell of her breast began—“and physically?”

“Yes, Vee,” he said, voice rough, “I want all of it. I want all of you.” And he kissed her.

He’d never… felt like this about anyone. He’d had crushes and lovers, but nothing with this intensity. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Vee he’d never been in love. His heartbeat stuttered.

Eyes locked with his, she sank to her knees and unbuckled his belt. Her pulse spiked with the knowledge that she was about to wreak sweet havoc on him.

She’d submitted, let him rule her, and had loved it—was still loving it. She was his. Utterly.

Didn’t matter if it was a foolish smile on her face. Didn’t matter one bit, not when his warm gift still glowed alongside her own magic. Not when she’d share her bed and herself with him again tonight. Not when she’d explain to him about Drake’s co-captaincy tomorrow and they’d look through the clues and work it out together.

“What—what’s that on your face? Are you…?” He examined her, a frown between his brows, then his mouth fell open. “Good gods. You’re in love with him.”

“Barnacle and the babies are safe, too. I checked when Perry picked us up.”

The important part. Keep the pets safe