Redemption: The Abcynians

By Frances Stockton

They have lived for centuries. An ancient, secretive race of were-panthers faced with near extinction. To assure their survival they must conceal their identities and abilities, while protecting mankind from an unimaginable, primordial evil.

Redemption: The Abcynians, Book III

Her ship overtaken by pirates, Jocelyn Kincaid is rescued by Captain Don Adriano de Montoya. Initially afraid of the privateer sailors call El Fantasma, she discovers he is not the ghost some have portrayed him to be. He claims to be part of a mythical race—and her mate! Fascinated, she's brokenhearted when he makes plans to sail her home to Boston.

Haunted by the memory of his murdered family, Adriano has sworn to ruin the man he holds responsible for their deaths. When he unexpectedly finds his mate aboard an enemy ship, he saves her life. Despite their unprecedented attraction, he keeps his distance until he learns a secret about Jocelyn that could potentially endanger her and Abcynian kind.

Determined to keep the woman he loves safe, his mission changes. But when she discovers the truth he's guarding, will she forgive him, or set him on a path of destruction?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frances Stockton
• Release date: Apr 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386671015

Frances Stockton

My love for storytelling began when I created my first fictional characters, mischievous, identical twin brothers, in kindergarten. Years later, I started to write, completing my first handwritten manuscript when I was in middle school. I confess, the heroine was a cross between a contemporary Laura Ingalls Wilder and Nancy Drew, but when I wrote ‘the end’ I knew I had more stories to tell.  Of course, life intervened, but whether I was in high school, college, working a variety of jobs on my path to earning a degree in History and Secondary Education, I was always writing and reading romances. Finally, I joined RWA and the New England Chapter, becoming an author with Ellora’s Cave until the publisher closed its doors. Now, I am writing under my own name and loving every minute of it. I truly enjoy hearing from readers. Please let me know what you think at [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter One

21 May 1715—El Leon De Mar—Atlantic Ocean

In lion form, Adriano stared down at the twin pools of blood dripping from his front paws. Roaring, he was caught on the realization of who lay beneath his hulking body, reminding him of his humanity, and his cruelty.

Saddened by what he’d been compelled to do to save the life of his precious son, he welcomed the temporary blindness that kept him from seeing anything as he changed back into his human half.

When he was able, he forced himself to tend to his wife’s lifeless body. I failed you, Jacinta. I failed you by being unable to see what my arrogance and absences have driven you to, he confessed.

Her face was unscathed, almost peaceful in death, yet he knew the wrongness of this night would follow him for the rest of his life. Never again will I use the lion to kill another. I vow it, just as I will search for the man who turned you against our son and my mother. Perhaps then I will earn your forgiveness.

Ashamed, he sought to pray, fearing God would not hear him. Perhaps an angel would listen instead.

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come... Thy will be done... Out of nowhere a silken voice eased his nightmares, bringing him awake. Somewhere, somewhere close enough for him to hear in his mind, a woman prayed in English, miraculously answering his need for absolution.

Amen, she whispered, weeping. Adriano sensed the tears weren’t for her. They were for him.   

Confused by her unselfishness, he buried a growl when the voice in his head changed, this time pleading, fearful, and aimed at someone else. I beg of you, do not make me do this. Do not force me to fight you. We both know I cannot win.

Worried that he was still dreaming, Adriano straightened up, feeling hesitant to admit what hearing her meant. Waiting for her to speak again, the conversations of his crew reached his cabin.

His pilot was growling orders from the quarterdeck and none would think to disobey him. All on board knew Gabriel Blakemore was at his most serious and deadly when he spoke quietly. Ryder Sanborn, his quartermaster, gave commands to the Dutchman, Jan van Brakel, and the ship began a subtle turn.

Everything was as it should be. The galleon moved through the churning waters of the Atlantic with an ease that belied the intent of its mission. The storm that had stirred the sea during the night was dissipating, yet raindrops pelted softly onto the ship’s deck, promising that clouds would still hover long enough to conceal his purpose.

Convinced the angelic voice he’d heard had been a figment of his dreams, he moved to the edge of his bed. Having fallen asleep two hours before, he felt every bit of his three hundred and eighty-two years of age. Running his left hand through the neat beard that covered his chin, a habit he’d developed ages ago, he set his mind to the task at hand and began to rise.

Halfway to his full height, a woman’s agony crept down his spine before slamming deep in his abdomen. It felt as though he’d been stabbed in the gut with a knife, while another blade caught him in the kidneys. Then the pain worsened, akin to being kicked in the groin, twice in succession.

Expecting the pain to ease, he was surprised when it narrowed to the place where a woman’s womb resided. Lord have mercy, what he felt was internal, constant. His lower back aching with the weariness of supporting such difficulty for many years.

Confused by what was happening, he shook his head, forcing himself to brace his feet and stand tall, only to feel as though his arm had been pricked by something short and sharp. Discomfort would not hinder his mission, but concern for his mysterious angel had become very real. Whatever she was going through now was completely different from the persistent pain she was experiencing within her body.

Captain, you’re needed on the quarterdeck, Ryder implored from just beyond the cabin door. "You were right. The lookout aboard the Sea Otter has spied the Emerald, with Skelton Reed at command."

I’ll be there shortly, he said in English, surprised when his lion’s mark began to respond to the unknown female’s voice and predicament by increasing warmth to his groin. If he looked, he knew it would glow as if his skin had been painted with moonlight.

Ryder walked away, delivering commands as he went. Regardless of the task that’d been set before him this day, Adriano could not ignore the plight of the female whose fear and pain he’d felt, whose voice he had heard while he’d slept. The one who’d selflessly prayed for him.

Marching across the cabin, he bit his tongue, trying to ascertain what to do next. If he spoke to her mind-to-mind, and she acknowledged hearing him, it would mean he’d found his mate. He wasn’t certain claiming her would be right. To a full-blooded panthera Abcynian, doing so with an Elder present was as binding as a marriage vow.

It hadn’t always been that way. Back when Garrick Forrester, the second eldest of their kind, had found his wife, Aisley, all she’d had to do was acknowledge hearing the Earl in her mind. Since then, Adriano’s father, the King of Abcynians, had insisted that both the male and the female had the right to decide if marriage was what they wanted.

In truth, he didn’t want to be married, not when he was close to enacting the first stage of his revenge against the Marquess of Meldon, the man who’d been responsible for Jacinta’s betrayal. When Adriano caught Skelton Reed, he’d end one prominent source of the Marquess’ riches. 

While he dressed, his arms trembled with weakness. Dio, he was feeling her again. I’ve plead mercy, Red, she gasped, revealing why she was close enough for him to communicate with her. She was onboard the Emerald.

Adriano’s hackles rose, his instinct to strip and change form. He’d not given in to the lion since the night his mother and his wife were killed. He couldn’t reveal his, Ryder’s, or Gabriel’s secret to the men of the Sea Otter, the ship that acted in concert with his galleon, the Sea Lion.

Fight me, Jocelyn. If you hold me at bay, I shall grant you the right to warm my bed until I am bored with you. If you cannot, I will feed you to the sharks.

Having learned her name, he finished buttoning his black shirt and was about to fasten his breeches when something sharp lanced his chest, close to his right nipple. As if it’d been real, he flattened his hand against the muscle and felt blood dampen his palm.

Certain he’d see the crimson stain, he pulled his hand away and growled when all he saw was dried, callused skin.

Won’t someone help me? She prayed again, needing rescue.

Unwilling to let her fight alone, he willed his strength into her, speaking as he would a mate. Fight him, Jocelyn. Hear me and do what I say. I will be there, I vow it. I will reach you in time. Be brave, querida.

In his mind, he heard her reply. Now I know I’ve failed, I’m hearing voices in my head. The moment Jocelyn acknowledged hearing him something intangible tugged on his heart, solidifying a bond she’d no idea existed, yet.

Unable to do anything less, Captain Don Adriano de Montoya gave into the panthera’s need to claim by lifting his head to roar only in his mind. He’d had his suspicion confirmed and he would save Jocelyn. That didn’t mean he had to act on the reason he could speak to her mind-to-mind.

He would save her, heal her, and then he’d figure out what the hell he was going to do with her.

* * * * *

Fight him, Jocelyn! Hear me, and do what I say! I will be there, I vow it. I will reach you in time. Be brave, querida. Echoing in her mind, a man’s cultured, accented voice had reached through the pain and weakness consuming Jocelyn’s ability to fight Skelton Reed, giving her the strength needed to fend off a deadly thrust.

But a quick, shallow slice of his blade into her neck revealed her vulnerability.

Now I know I’ve failed, I’m hearing voices in my head.

A heartbeat later, a lion-sized roar echoed in her ears, making her feel stronger as she deflected another blow and braced herself. Sweat gathered beneath her arms, running down her back and forehead, dripping into her eyes.

Wiping it away, for she feared Red would soon tire of this game and either kill her or rape her, she refused to give in to a pirate’s brand of terror. No, she would fight to protect her body. It was hers to give, or not. If she died, she would accept her fate, come what may.

Gathering courage from another roar, its power and voracity, she didn’t understand why no one else heard it. Rather than worry where it came from, she used the tide of aggression the animalistic sound unleashed within and thrust once, managing to slice Red’s forearm.

The pirate sneered, withdrawing a step or two to wipe away the blood. You’ve made a fool of me, wench. No woman will ever best me, certainly not one who dresses like a cabin boy! Do you know what they were used for, Jocelyn?

Needing a reprieve, she breathed in and out. She was tired and aching with fear as her abdomen cramped with unrelenting pain. Her courses had begun at dawn. Discomfort would worsen as the day progressed and she’d soon find her breeches dampened and ruined with her own blood.

I never intended to make you feel like a fool, Red, she huffed. I was captain of this ship when you captured it. I couldn’t very well turn my back on the crew you’d allowed to stay. As to your question, yes, I know what cowardly men such as you do with cabin boys. Isn’t that why you kept me? You thought I was young enough to permit such abuse?

Had you told me the truth from the onset, I’d have had some mercy on you.

Yes, for reasons Red didn’t need to know about, she’d donned her brother’s attire and became the captain of her father’s ship. Because of an ailment that had inflicted her since her courses began at thirteen years of age, her ruse had been discovered. She’d little recourse other than to fight and pray, same as she had when she’d heard a mysterious man seeking redemption from God’s angels.

Red hoisted his sword higher when she remained quiet. Fight, you’ve rested too long!

With little choice, she did so. The persistent drizzle left the Emerald’s deck wet and slick. Though she had more purchase with bare feet then she would if she wore shoes, she still slipped. Another sharp sting split the skin on the back of her left hand, causing blood to drip onto the pommel of her sword.

Have you nothing to say, Jocelyn? Your deception calls for remediation.

Slapping Red’s sword away, she scurried backward, thankful that she knew every square foot of her father’s ship. Even as they battled, his crew loitered about, perhaps waiting for her downfall.

As she retreated, she heard the man who’d spoken to her moments before. Oddly, he was delivering orders in a language she didn’t know. If she were fated to die this day, at least she wasn’t alone.

Avast, speak, woman. Why have you deceived me? Red demanded, recapturing her attention as he stormed across the deck and wielded his bloodied sword in earnest.

Jocelyn gasped, doing her best to outmaneuver him, but Red tripped her, sending her careening to the deck. Exhausted, she rolled over, closing her eyes, fearing she was about to utter her deathbed confession. To protect my father’s reputation, I’d meant to be the captain of this ship from Boston to the Chesapeake Bay. Not to deceive you.

NO! Do not be afraid or tell him anything more, Jocelyn. I’ll be there soon. Following the stranger’s command, she sensed Red lifting his arms and moved to the side as he plunged the blade downward, catching her rib cage as the tip sank into the deck.

I’m finished toying with you. Tyler, help her to her feet, Red commanded. His first mate tore the sword from her limp hand and hoisted her from the deck. Hold her still. I want her to know she’s going to die if she does not beg for mercy!

It was odd to watch such a thin, gangly man wield such command over fifty men, especially his first mate. He was twice the captain’s size. Red’s narrow, ruddy face revealed the years he’d spent at sea as an English privateer who preyed upon Spanish vessels. His long red hair and sparse beard made him look like a macabre skeleton.

Rather than fight the big hulk behind her, Jocelyn lifted her chin and met Red’s pale blue eyes. If you are going to kill me, Red, ask yourself if you do so because I assumed my brother’s identity or because I’m a better pilot than any man amongst your crew?

Red trembled with rage, his already reddened complexion becoming crimson. Had you held your tongue I might have spared you, he growled and slapped the left side of her face, then the right, the sting adding to her sense of failure.

Tyler held her strong, refusing to allow her the mercy of looking away as red tore the blood-drenched shirt from her body. Red Skeleton might kill her, but he’d enjoy making her suffer first.

My skill with a sword proves effective, even on your worthless hide, Red hissed. Your blood flows. Shall I kill you quick? Perhaps I shall slice open your belly until your intestines spill to the deck. What do you think, Tyler? Should I kill her quick? Or play with her some more?

I think we should keep her for a little while longer, Tyler answered. His hold on her arms was merciless as he bound them behind her back with his massive hands at her wrists. She may be a mere Colonist, but she’s pretty enough to enjoy with my eyes open.

Careful there, Tyler, she’s probably a virgin, another man said. She needs a gentleman the first time. Then again...ain’t she bleedin’? Spittle hit the deck and sprayed Jocelyn’s feet, repulsing her. 

That she is, Jasper, though her mouth and arse would do to ease a man’s lust, Red answered, his face close to her ear, her eyes closing out of true fear. Open your eyes! Listen and obey me, now.

I will not. Kill me or let go.

Very well, he agreed and the remainder of her shirt was torn from her body. The cloth strips she’d used to bind and flatten her full breasts were ripped into pieces, leaving her naked and bloody from the waist up.

Snickers and sneers followed, leaving her to think her rescuer had abandoned her. Or, he’d been a figment, a beautiful dream in the midst of such ugliness.

I have not abandoned you, querida. Look starboard, know I speak the truth. Her savior’s cultured voice eased her fear, encouraging her to open her eyes.

Red loomed threateningly, his features fierce and ugly. Her arms ached from Tyler’s wrenching. The crew lounged lazily upon the deck, ignoring anything beyond where she stood. Thankful that they’d grown careless, she subtly looked starboard, spying a schooner at full sail cutting through the whitecaps with an ease that belied its speed.

You’re too calm, her captor said.

Maybe I know something that you do not, Mr. Tyler. I may well die this day, but you could, too.

What do you mean?

Tyler’s question was overridden by a lookout. Captain...schooner...starboard side!

Bloody hell, Red fumed. Venting his wrath, Red’s balled fist slammed into her gut, worsening the constant pain that crippled her womb, sending her to her knees. Is it Montoya? 

"It’s the Sea Otter. You can bet the Ghost is onboard," was the response.

Prepare to sail, Red commanded, causing all but Matt Tyler to scatter to their posts.

Silently, Jocelyn was worried about the Emerald. She was but a small merchant ship with a few defensive cannons below decks. Holding off an attack from the schooner designed for speed and surprise attack would be near impossible.

I guess your torture will have to come from someone else. Tyler, I’ll have your dagger, Red demanded, his voice, his manner warning her humiliation was nearly complete.

Taking advantage of a momentary lapse, she lurched forward, knocking Red to his back. Scrambling for purchase on the blood and rain-soaked deck, she tried to crawl away, only to have a heavy boot flatten her to the slick surface.

With a suddenness that took her breath away, something long, hard, and sharp drilled into her shoulder, slicing through skin and muscle and nailing her to the spot. Burning, wrenching pain had her screaming as a guttural, beastly roar ripped through her temples.

Certain she was to die, she swallowed and gave her thoughts to the man who’d roared. I am sorry, my unknown friend. Would that I could have met you. Alas, perhaps I’ll become the angel you’d prayed for and grant you redemption after all.

He spoke not a word, yet she felt his concern for her. Unexpectedly, the blade keeping her immobile was jerked from her shoulder. Helpless screams tore at her scorched throat, the pain white-hot, excruciating.

Oh God, have mercy, please no more, no more, she cried out.

Throw her overboard, Red declared. Let her drown as the sharks rip her limb from bloody limb.

Tyler heaved her upward while commands for surrender were being trumpeted from the approaching schooner. She tried to fight Red’s quartermaster, yet her arm hung uselessly to her side and even the slightest movements became unbearable.

Once she’s overboard, take the helm.

Aye, captain. Tyler grasped her left arm, dragging her port side.

Because she had nothing to lose, she intentionally stumbled and tripped, even though it hurt like bloody hell and accomplished nothing. Each time, he snatched her to her feet, using her incapacitated arm to wrench cries from her parched throat.

If you do this, you’re a coward, she whimpered.

If I don’t put you in the drink, my arse will be fed to the sharks. Despite her efforts to plea for mercy, he continued to drag her, ignoring her sobs. It’s a damn shame. I sort of liked you when I believed you were a man.

Helpless, she fell silent. Tyler was bent on casting her overboard. Blood oozed from her wounds. Her shoulder muscles were severed, the joint probably dislocated. She wouldn’t be able to swim. The blood would attract sharks. If she went into the Atlantic, it would likely become her grave.

Querida, do not fear the water. It will not be your grave. It will be your salvation.

Thunder boomed starboard side. A heartbeat later, a cannonball plowed into the Emerald’s hull, causing both Jocelyn and Tyler to slam into the rail, the ship listing dramatically, taking on water.

Drop into the ocean when I tell you, her savior said, calming her fear regardless of hearing the terrified shrieks of the men who’d gone overboard. Her entire body hurt too much to be able to swim. I know you’re hurting. But you must go now! He commanded, just as two stronger blasts echoed from the schooner.

Still held by the quartermaster, Jocelyn leaned forward as twin cannonballs connected with the frigate’s mast. Using the list to her advantage, she tumbled over the rail, taking Tyler into the sea with her.

Frigid saltwater stung with a force so brutal, she swallowed bitter water as she screamed. By miracle, the dive wrenched Tyler away, her arm useless as she frantically kicked for the surface.

Muffled cannon fire from the Emerald vibrated through the water again, sending waves and Tyler against her. Panicked, he grasped her tattered arm. Suddenly free, she kicked upward, breaking the surface and breathing in much needed air. Then, she smelled gunpowder, burning wood, and scorched sails. Seawater made her eyes burn, but she could see that fire had engulfed the Emerald’s mizzenmast, licking her sails, the ship began to sink.

More men had already jumped into the ocean, shouting for aid from those onboard the schooner. Looking about for Tyler, she shuddered when his lifeless body floated to the surface.

She tried to remain calm. She couldn’t. Through a haze of stinging tears, she spied something large and shadowy moving in the water...toward her.

No! she screeched, certain a shark had already found her.

The shadow dove downward, frightening her when she could no longer detect where it was. From beneath her, something hard and unyielding came about her waist, deliberately pulling her under.

Blinded, she kicked and cried, swallowing mouthfuls of saltwater that burned her already sore throat. Trust Gabriel. He will not harm you, I promise. Let him bring you to me, her angel promised.

Him...a man held her? Realizing she couldn’t break free of the arm that bound her against a massive chest, she gave in and let him take her wherever he wanted. Water rushed against them as he held her and swam fast, pausing from time to time to let her get some air, the power in his free arm and legs seeming to be that of a merman.

In the end, too much had happened, her pain too great. Giving up her last breath, she succumbed to the sea, the giant merman, and blessed oblivion.

Chapter Two

Despite the capture of Skelton Reed, known to Spain as the pirate Red Skeleton, and his crew, Captain Don Adriano de Montoya stood high upon the Sea Otter’s forecastle, searching the murky Atlantic for sight or sound of Jocelyn and his pilot.

The water churned with whitecaps, the gray clouds giving way to darker, thicker skies, warning another storm was imminent. He didn’t concern himself with the storm, the sinking merchant ship, or Reed’s crewmen being plucked from the water.

The moment Jocelyn went silent, his heart had plummeted. Whoever claimed Dante’s Inferno was the best representation of Hell had been wrong. No, Hell was the unbearable silence that followed an angel’s agonized screams.

Behind him, Ryder approached. His footsteps quiet, certain, consistent with a panthera pardus Abcynian.

For a man who has successfully captured one of the most dreaded pirates in the world, you look like the one who lost, Ryder said, honest and blunt.

It is good that Skelton has been caught, Adriano replied, taking his eyes off the water. "But, I’m beginning to wonder if I’d been right to come aboard the Sea Otter. What if that proves too timely a delay?"

"Second guessing your decisions? That isn’t like you, Captain. As the Sea Lion and Sea Otter act in concert with one another, you knew the schooner was the fastest means to reach the Emerald."

Adriano lowered his chin, searching the water again, certain he’d caught sight of two long shadows moving toward the Sea Otter. I fear Jocelyn may have faced too much before Gabriel could reach her. They were torturing her, Ryder. Had we not fired when we did, Skelton Reed would have flayed her alive.

You knew exactly what was happening to her, didn’t you?

"Aye. I told Jan and Gabriel as soon as I was able. I’d have told you but you were with the Otter’s master gunner."

Ryder shook his head. "I’m not angry. It would be pointless. Your mate was on the Emerald and you directed that ship’s capture with minimal loss of lives. Placing his hand on Adriano’s shoulder, the quartermaster squeezed in a gesture of companionship and trust. The delay may have felt like an eternity, yet there was no other way to reach the Emerald in time."

"Si, you’re right, but the longer it takes for Gabriel to return, the less chance I have in healing her."

He’ll make it. He’s the best swimmer of any man on our crew, Ryder stated. You will succeed in saving her. The question is what will you do once she’s well?

Adriano had no idea. He was a privateer captain working in concert with Don Felix de Ramirez of the Sea Otter. His decisions were made, his commands were followed. No one ever questioned him. A woman aboard his ship was bound to cause trouble.

I see him, Captain! James Brown, the boatswain, shouted from the crow’s nest, pointing starboard. He has the woman with him.

Heart pounding, he moved to the starboard side of the forecastle, spying Gabriel and Jocelyn about fifteen feet from the bowsprit. 

Sorry it took us so long, Captain, Gabriel called above the din of the Sea Otter’s crew taking prisoners. 

Don’t explain. Get her up here, Adriano ordered.

A scuffle broke out on the quarterdeck, demanding his attention and authority. Ryder, wait for Gabriel, he commanded, turning away.

On the quarterdeck, Skelton Reed had been strapped to a grating. A whip had been handed to the Sea Otter’s quartermaster, ready to strike the pirate’s bare back.

Avast! Flog him and the English government will hold it against us, he warned.

Red deserves to be keel-hauled for what he did to the woman, the quartermaster said. A flogging would give her a measure of justice.

He and his men will be taken to Cuba. I’m willing to let Captain Don Felix de Martinez take them as arranged. It had been the price Adriano had offered in exchange for using the schooner. I will be displeased if even one man has been abused.

Abcynian honor demanded the fair treatment of any man, woman, and child. The panthera within him demanded he tear Reed limb from gangly limb, especially as he’d known exactly what he’d done to Jocelyn.

You’re a fool, Montoya, Skelton accused. You offer me quarter, when I’d gut you with my dagger if given the chance.

Adriano crossed the deck and knelt beside the pirate. "If it weren’t for the Commission of the Spanish Guarda Costa, I’d drag you beneath the haul of this ship and scrape your miserable hide clean off, then rub salt into your festering wounds myself. Bending closer, he spoke in Skelton Reed’s ear. Be certain, however, that I’ll have men onboard this ship. They’ll bear testimony upon what happened here today, and what you’ve done in the past. If England offers to pay your ransom, I’ll come after you again. The next time, I’ll aim a cannonball at you, not your sails."

"Threats from el Fantasma? the pirate dared. Do you think I don’t know who you are, Montoya? The Ghost, the one who is said to have sailed these waters for hundreds of years. Before I am done, I’ll see you hanging in a gibbet." His face grew redder with the strain of talking in such an uncomfortable position, his fight draining him.

I’m not a ghost. Had you stopped torturing an innocent woman, you might have spotted my approach and escaped. Your failure came from stupidity, nothing more.

That lying witch, she infiltrated my crew by pretending to be a man. Women are good for two things, bedding and cooking. She can’t cook but I sure would have enjoyed sharing her with my men, had I the chance.

Tempted to take the cat-o’-nine tails to Reed’s pale back, Adriano grasped the man’s tattered red hair and jerked his head upward, threatening to snap his neck. It would be easy to end him. It wouldn’t help Jocelyn.

Normally, I am a fair man, he said, whispering. Dare speak of her with such disrespect again, I’ll rip your heart out. If you don’t think I can kill you with one punch to the chest, you’d be wrong. Pulling hard to emphasize his strength, he dropped Reed’s head and smiled when his forehead smacked the deck.

"Do it, el Fantasma," Reed dared.

Too easy. Finished reasoning with the man, he stood. You’ll pay for your crimes and you’ll no longer enrich the Marquess of Meldon’s coffers.

For a minute, Skelton Reed stayed quiet. How can you possibly know who sponsored my letters of marque?

You just verified it, Adriano answered, silently thankful that his brother had been able to obtain the information.

Damn me to bloody hell, Skelton muttered, succumbing to his bound hands and remaining still.

Shrugging, Adriano glanced starboard when he scented blood, brine, and saltwater-soaked bodies. One was female, the other a panthera tigris Abcynian who grumbled over having salt in his eyes. Ryder leaned over the rail, with Jan van Brakel on his right.

Pablo, put this man in the hold with the rest of the prisoners, Adriano ordered.

Trusting his command would be done, he strode toward his crew. As he reached them, Jan and Ryder lifted Jocelyn over the rail. Unable to restrain his response, he growled at the men standing between him and his potential mate, almost sinking to his knees with relief when she was finally in his arms.

She looked too pale and fragile for one whose bone structure and height had likely enabled her to fool a pirate’s crew into believing she was a man. In truth, she’d lost too much blood, was still bleeding, her left arm hanging uselessly from her body. For a minute, his heart stopped, certain she was dead. It beat again when he leaned his head forward to inhale her unfamiliar, bittersweet scent and felt her shallow breath on his face.

Adriano, you need to...

I know, Ryder, he interrupted.

His decision to heal her then set her free would be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do in his life. Adriano needed to complete his mission, thus his revenge, before he could live the life of a mated Abcynian male and father to his son. Until then, he couldn’t keep her with him. She’d already been through enough at the hands of Skelton Reed, the pirate known as Red Skeleton. She deserved peace, kindness, and relief from the unrelenting pain that he’d sensed deep inside her womanhood.

Feeling the cold, damp flesh of her bare skin, he hugged her against his chest and swung away from the men. Create a diversion and keep the Captain out of his cabin. 

While he walked, he started when she snuggled closer, her mouth close to his throat. Ugh, she huffed, trying to lift her left arm and failing. Pain...so much pain. Am I dead?

Adriano stopped long enough to look down at her. "No, querida, you’re not dead."

Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes opened. For a moment, he couldn’t look away. Though they were bloodshot, her gray irises were extraordinary, as fathomless as the churning Atlantic during a storm.

You’re the one I prayed for, she mumbled, her voice harsh from swallowing seawater and screaming.

"Si, mi angel, gracias, he replied, walking on. By the time he reached the captain’s cabin he was alone with her. I’m going to heal you, Jocelyn. It will require several bites and you’ll fall asleep."

She’d already closed her eyes, her pain so deep, he felt it to his very bones, and he knew sleep was what she needed most. Foolishly, I thought you were a privateer working for Spain. Instead, you’re a vampire.

I’m not a vampire. Don’t worry and don’t speak, you’ll come to no further harm. Keep your eyes closed. Bending his head to her neck, he scented her pulse and bit until his sharp canines punctured her skin.

For a moment, she wrestled but he held her fast as his essence flowed into her. As it did, her skin grew warmer and her body went lax. Only when he knew she wouldn’t resist did he move from the door and lower her on the bed. When he was done, he gulped in a breath and bent his head to her throat again.

* * * * *

Jocelyn woke to persistent soreness throughout her entire body. Afraid to move too quickly, she opened her eyes, finding herself in a strange cabin, on a strange bed. Sparse light came through salt-stained windows high above the bed. The room smelled of wood and brine.

Carefully, she looked about. This was not the cabin on the Emerald. Although it was in better condition than the captain’s quarters Red Skeleton had commandeered when he captured her ship.

Her ship, she grimaced, knowing it had never really been hers. Recalling all that had happened since she’d taken it upon her shoulders to captain the Emerald from Boston to the Chesapeake Bay, she instinctively sought to cover her eyes with her left arm. Having been impaled and her shoulder dislocated, she tensed, expecting considerable pain.

Weirdly, her arm was sore. Yet, she was able to move it without wanting to cry. Someone must have set it and sutured the wound. While she didn’t understand why she didn’t have a bandage or something to strap her arm in place, her shoulder blade itched. And attempt to reach around and scratch it was forbidden when she realized she was naked, save for a folded rectangle of cloth resting firmly between the apex of her thighs and a stiff muslin bed sheet.

No... she cried out, worried that she would bleed through the cloth.

Protectively, she pressed her hand to her still aching abdomen, finding the discomfort more bearable than ever before. As she pulled her hand away, the cabin door opened and a man walked in.

Average in height, he was incredibly handsome and muscular, his long reddish-blond hair bound neatly at his nape.