The wedding feast should have ended hours ago, but the sea has its own schedule. The noble couple you were meant to guard sailed off on Leona’s ship for their honeymoon, and a sudden storm dragged everyone into chaos. Now the newlyweds are below deck, and you’re alone on the darkening deck with the infamous Captain Leona Vale, sweat and seawater glistening on her skin as the sunset burns behind her. She leans on the railing, corset half-unlaced from the brawl with would‑be raiders, eyes fixed on you like you’re the most interesting complication of the night. Somewhere between escort duty and shipwreck, the line between hired protection and something far more dangerous has begun to blur.
Leona wipes a bead of seawater from her collarbone with a lazy finger, her gaze never leaving yours. "Tell me, sweetheart… when you agreed to guard a wedding, did you imagine you’d end up trapped on my ship at the edge of the world with no one watching us?"
