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A quiet buzz settles over the Misty Sea tavern as Amara and I walk through the door. Everywhere we go, others have decided their judgment against us.

To pirates, we are betrayers of The Code.

To everyone else, we are pirate scum who only live to take from others.

To all, we are not welcome.

At least in this place, the threat of someone striking us dead in our sleep is much lower. Mostly merchants and traders are gathered around the tables; only a few brave souls are courageous enough to look our way for longer than a few seconds.

Code breaker or not, none of these gentle folk would dream of speaking out against a pirate. Which is exactly why I chose the Misty Sea for our meeting spot with Wells—my first mate.

I signal one of the bar maids to bring us three rounds of ale.

“How much are you paying for us to stay in this castle, Captain?” Amara whispers next to me as we find a table in the far corner of the tavern. Needing three rooms for the night, it pained me to fish out the little coin I had left to pay the inn keep.

The wooden chair is smooth as I slide into it.

When my gaze settles onto the floor, I notice the stark contrast of cleanliness compared to the hell hole we just came from.

I settle into my seat, shifting forward to flick my long black hair over the back of the chair so it doesn’t pull on my head when I lean back.

“We needed a quiet place to speak about this next bounty,” I tell her. “A place without prying eyes or bent ears.” Even if it did cost me a pretty shilling, at least we’d have clean sheets to sleep in tonight. Given what we are about to do, it might very well be the last time we sleep at all.

Amara peels her weapons belt off and lays it on the table next to the wall as the bar maid sets three pints of ale down on the table. The metal of Amara’s pistol gleams in the candlelight. Her marksmanship is one of the reasons I hired her years ago—that, and her unwavering loyalty.

She huffs as she crosses her right foot over her left on top of the empty chair next to her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Blythe has his spies in every tavern across Silvermoon Landing. Even one as nice as this.”

Mindlessly, I take my right dagger from my belt and start cleaning the grime from my nails.

She leans forward, eyes earnest. “If he discovers that we plan to move against him, Rowenya, this venture will be the end of us.”

“The only end for us will be the silver tongue behind your teeth,” I snap, pointing the tip of my dagger toward her. “You cost us half our earnings, Amara. Half! Do you know what we could have done with that coin?”

I dare not think of it. If we’re going to risk our lives for this mission, I’d like to at least be paid a fair wage for it—now, however, we’ve got almost nothing to gain outside of avoiding Red Beard’s vampyric acolyte.

Heavens , this is bad.

We were so close to having everything we needed.

So close to never having to take another bounty again.

We’ve spent years indebted to Red Beard, each one of us saving as much coin as possible from the measly earnings he granted us so we might pay off the debt sooner.

The wages we lost tonight mean more than light pockets.

Amara’s face goes slack, but her golden eyes stay focused on me. “He disrespected you, Captain. I wasn’t going to allow him to do that.” Her voice is quiet, tinged with hurt.

Instantly, I regret the sting of my words. Even if they were true.

“I know.” I shake my head, then look to her again. “We just can’t afford any more missteps or we will never get away from his reach.”

Amara’s gaze flicks down to the table for a moment, then back up to me. “I’m not sure Red Beard will ever let us out of his grasp, Captain. We are far too good at fulfilling his bounties and lining his pockets.”

The tavern door slams open. We both look to the entrance and I groan just as Amara’s face splits into a devilish grin.

“Fellow patrons of the Misty Sea!” Wells yells across the tavern for everyone to hear.

His arms are stretched out wide as he saunters through the space and up to the group of four men at the table closest to the door.

Wells whips his leather coat behind himself, the tailcoats flapping as he moves to stand between two of the men’s chairs.

“Good tidings have been bestowed upon me tonight and I wish to share the joy. The next round is on me!”

The men at the table look at one another.

The rest of the tavern remains silent for a moment, and I hold my breath, wondering why the hells he’s making such a spectacle of himself.

Then the space erupts with cheers, hoots, and hollers as Wells pats one of the men on the back before leaning down to whisper something in his ear.

I roll my eyes and sit back in my seat as I watch Wells head to the bar where he hands over several silver coins. Barmaids start making their rounds and the tavern becomes much louder than it was when Amara and I first walked in.

Amara snickers at me when I exhale a loud sigh of frustration. Between Amara costing us half our wages with this new bounty and Wells’s constant antics, I’m surprised we’ve made it this far without the entire crew getting thrown into King Renard’s depthless prison.

My stomach turns as Wells gathers three more pints from the bartender and arrives in front of our table.

“What part of ‘be discrete’ did you not understand when Amara called you here, Wells? The last thing we need is for someone to piece together who we are, or worse yet—to give into the temptation to eavesdrop on our private conversation.”

King Renard pays a pretty coin to anyone who provides him with valuable information. The kind of information I plan on discussing tonight is not only the second highest treason against the king, but a betrayal of the greatest kind against Red Beard as well.

Wells places the pints on the table before slipping into the seat next to me.

His shaggy brown hair dips into his golden eyes despite the dark green sash tied around his forehead.

The ends drape down his back like two bands of silk against his black tunic.

It’s the roguish grin with twin dimples that steals hearts and breaks them.

Classically handsome and an eternal flirt, Wells has been vital to my crew with his .

. . power of influence and enchanting charisma.

Vital—and a pain in my ass.

Turning that smile on me, he says, “All we needed was a little distraction so we could talk freely. And what’s better for a distraction than free ale? None of the bastards in here will pay us any mind when they’re another pint deep.”

Looking around the tavern, relief settles over me as I take note of the patrons.

Before Wells had arrived, there were a few preening eyes stealing glances at Amara and me every time they thought we wouldn’t notice.

Now, everyone is settled into their seats, staring greedily at the bar maids as they walk by with the round of pints Wells procured.

“And how, exactly, can you afford to pay for an entire tavern’s worth of drinks?” I ask, leaning over the table so that he can better hear me. The metal cuffs in my long braids tap against its wooden surface.

A charming dimple appears in the corner of his right cheek as his lips quirk upward. His hand moves to his belt, where he pulls out a large leather coin purse and tosses it twice in the air between us.

Now it makes sense. The show of an entrance. How he leaned down to whisper some nonsense into that merchant’s ear.

“You’re a slithering snake,” Amara hisses with a laugh.

“A resourceful snake.” I smile as Wells hides the purse along his belt strap once more.

“Aye. I’m glad you’re on our side, Wells. Because if you ever stole from me”—Amara grabs her pistol and waves it around before pointing it straight at his face—“I’d hate to have to waste a night cleaning up your blood.”

Wells leans forward until the skin of his forehead is flush against the barrel of Amara’s pistol.

A crazed look takes over his honey-colored eyes, making them glow brighter as he snaps his dagger out of its sheath and spins it around the palm of his hand.

“Amara, darling. You know I’ve been waiting for years to have a tussle with you.

What do you say we settle the matter, right here? Right now.”

He tsks before pressing his forehead into the barrel of her pistol even harder.

A click permeates the air as Amara cocks the hammer of her pistol back before sliding her finger over the trigger.

Wells tilts his head to the side slightly. “Now you’re just making my cock hard, darling.”

Rolling my eyes, I settle back in my chair and start cleaning my nails with my dagger again. “Can you two just fuck already so we can get back to the matter at hand?”

Keeping her arm ramrod straight, Amara slides her dark eyes to me. “Fuck him ? Captain, you insult me.”

Pausing my grooming, I look up at her and arch my brow.

She releases the hammer of her pistol and lays it back on the table.

Wells snickers like he’s won. When I shoot him a warning glare, he snuffs out his laughter and sheaths his dagger.

Amara leans back in her seat, draping her arm along the back of the chair next to her, like Wells didn’t just get under her skin.

I look between them. “We have a lot to discuss and not much time to make plans for this next task.”

“What did Red Beard assign us, Captain?” Wells asks.

I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is listening. Satisfied that Wells’s distraction continues to hold, I lean closer to the edge of the table and speak low so that only Wells and Amara can hear me. “There is talk that Blythe Quint has plans to steal the Serpent’s Key.”

Wells’s eyes grow wide as he reels backward. “That’s a suicide mission. What in the hells is he thinking?”

“That’s the question of the night,” Amara says, her brown eyes flicking to mine.