A Cruel Wedding Night
The moment I reached him on the dance floor, Captain Blackthorn’s grip closed over my waist with iron force. My stomach twisted, dread coiling tight like a noose. He pressed me into the first position, the music spinning around us, laughter and conversation fading into a dull roar behind the pulse of my own fear.
“After this dance, we leave,” he murmured, breath warm against my ear. “Once we’re alone, I’ll have my way with you.”
The words churned bile in my throat. My pulse thudded in terror. I had been raised to obey, yet the reality of his claim against me twisted my stomach into knots. Every step on the dance floor felt like a cruel performance, a display of my helplessness. My gown flowed around me, silk whispering against my skin, but it offered no comfort.
The song ended, and he guided me into a curtsey so deep I nearly toppled. His eyes scanned me with an intensity that made my blood run cold. A predator, patient and relentless. Without hesitation, he dragged me from the ballroom. I glanced desperately at my parents, my mother’s tear-streaked face, my father’s stoic mask. The door slammed shut, cutting me off from any possibility of escape. The courtyard greeted us with shadowed silence. A sleek black carriage waited, its lanterns casting fractured light over the cobblestones. He pushed me inside, forcing me down onto the velvet seat. The wheels crunched over gravel, and my stomach lurched with every jolt.
“Where are we going?” I asked, voice trembling.
“An inn tonight, pet,” he said, voice low, commanding. “Just the two of us. Tomorrow, my men will want to meet my new bride.”
My chest tightened. The thought of his ship, the Black Serpent, looming in the harbor made bile rise in my throat. I swallowed, fighting the panic curling through me.
The carriage stopped before a dimly lit inn. Lanterns glimmered weakly against the night. He seized my wrist, hauling me from the seat. The innkeeper, recognizing him, handed over a key without question. We climbed narrow stairs, wood groaning beneath each step. My hands burned from the strength of his grip, and I forced myself not to flinch. The room was dim, firelight flickering across crimson drapes. Shadows danced along the walls, mocking me. The heat from the flames did nothing to thaw the ice creeping along my spine. He locked the door behind us and turned, eyes dark and sharp.
“Turn around. I want a good look at you.”
My heart hammered, but I obeyed. The fire blazed, and his gaze roved over me with calculated precision. My skin prickled under the weight of his scrutiny.
“Good,” he murmured, low and approving. “Very good.”
I felt like a statue, trembling under his inspection. The room held its breath with me, silent but for the crackle of the hearth. He stepped closer, and the tension tightened like a cord around my chest.
“You’ll do nicely,” he said softly. “Now, let’s get you ready.”
The meaning was clear. My chest constricted, panic clawing at my ribs. He began to unfasten my gown, the weight of my situation pressing down like stone. My hands trembled, fighting the humiliation threatening to spill into sobs. I had no choice. The firelight flickered over us, warm yet unwelcoming. Piece by piece, the layers fell away, leaving me exposed, vulnerable, but the scene did not descend into explicit detail. His presence loomed, dominant and demanding, every movement a reminder of my lack of power.
“Now,” he said, voice low, tinged with authority, “we begin.”
He drew me toward the bed, and my pulse leapt. His nearness burned against my skin. The room was small, the shadows stretching like fingers. I bit back a scream, pressed to the edge of panic. I stumbled against the mattress, catching myself as he circled me. His voice cut through the tension.
“You belong to me now, pet. Every inch. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whispered, voice shaking, dread mingling with a reluctant curiosity I hated in myself.
The night stretched on in a blur of movement and whispered commands. His dominance pressed in around me. My mind spun with panic, humiliation, and the unbearable tension of knowing I could not escape. When dawn brushed pale light across the drapes, I collapsed onto the floor, trembling. The room smelled of fire and dark leather, his presence still heavy in the corners. I struggled to breathe, every part of me aching from the night’s strain. My reflection in the mirror betrayed the story of the ordeal, my auburn hair tousled, my hands sore, my expression pale and haunted. I felt stripped bare, even in thought.
He spoke then, calm and commanding. “Get dressed. We return to my ship.”
I obeyed, fumbling with the garments he had left, a dress sharp and severe in its cut, designed to show obedience without need of words. I braided my hair to the side, trying to gather the remnants of my composure.
He returned, looping a collar around my neck. “You will not need to wear this at all times. My men must know you belong to me. At social events, it stays. Understood?”
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the small, cold circle against my skin.
The carriage carried us through the waking city, quiet streets echoing beneath the wheels. The harbor approached, the Black Serpent looming like a dark shadow on the water. Its sails stretched black and menacing, a promise and a threat. Iron reinforcements gleamed under the rising sun. Cannons adorned with carved skulls glinted, silent, deadly. The ship was my prison, my new reality. I pressed my hands against the velvet seat, heart hammering. Each step forward, each breath drawn in the crisp morning air, was a reminder: I was no longer a princess in a gilded hall. I belonged to him now, to the captain whose reputation preceded him, whose control wrapped around me as tightly as the sea wind wrapped the ship’s sails.
I swallowed, the metallic tang of fear biting my tongue. The figurehead of the Black Serpent leered down at me, its carved eyes cold and mocking. I could almost hear the whispers of the crew, waiting, watching, ready to see their captain’s bride. I was helpless to stop it. As the ship rocked beneath us, I closed my eyes, wishing I could turn back time to the ballroom, to the safety of my father’s gaze, to any place but here. The past was gone, and the Black Serpent carried me forward into the unknown. My future was his, and the weight of that truth pressed heavier than any gown, heavier than any fear. This night, this journey, would change everything. Somewhere deep inside, a spark of defiance stirred, quiet, fragile, but alive. I would need it. I had no choice but to survive.
