William

“A pirate ship is no place for a family,” I roared, shoving the door of my cabin shut behind me and my first mate Jeremiah, even though I knew everyone on board would gather nearby to listen in.

“You’re the only alpha on the seven seas who thinks that right now,” Jeremiah accused.

“I refuse to run my ship according to what other captains think,” I returned. “A pirate ship is a dangerous place, and pregnant omegas are far too delicate to stay aboard.” Not to mention my family’s curse. But I couldn’t tell Jeremiah about that—couldn’t tell him that any pregnant omega who got too close to me was doomed to die.

I had spent far too much time in my years as a sailor watching omegas fall pregnant in the open seas. Even among the ones who weren’t close enough to me to be affected by my curse, too many of them died in childbirth, and too many were lost at sea, leaving their children parentless. I had been one of those orphans myself, and I didn’t believe in allowing any more orphans to be created if I could avoid it.

And the only way I could avoid it was to avoid all pregnant omegas.

Jeremiah was still ranting. “You can’t even tell Andrew is pregnant yet. If I hadn’t said something, you wouldn’t even have known.”

“For once,” I snarled, “I’d like to have a voyage free of any induced heat or unexpected breeding.” Unlike Andrew, the ship’s second mate, and my first mate’s husband, who had finally told me this morning that he was expecting. He wouldn’t have admitted it then, either, except for the fact that I came upon him huddled under the cover of the poop deck, his head in a bucket as he vomited. I knew the man well enough to know he’d never experienced seasickness in his entire life.

We’d cut across the top corner of the Omega Triangle on our way toward our first port of call in the Caribbean. It had been impossible to ignore it as every omega on my ship went into heat. I had laid in a stock of French letters, the sheepskin sheaths the French used over their cocks to avoid sharing the pox and impregnating one another, but all too often, an alpha’s knot burst the sheath, rendering the sheath useless.

And our next stop was the Leeward Islands. To get there, we had to traverse the very center of the Omega Triangle. Before, I had done my best not to notice as all the omegas went into heat, but there was no avoiding that again.

My own needs had called to me the first time, but I’d ignored it—even as I realized most of the alphas on my ship took the Omega Triangle as an excuse to use the omegas on my ship. Most of the time, I simply overlooked their fornication as part of life aboard a pirate ship in the West Indies and locked myself in my cabin until we were past the strongest call of the Triangle.

If I was going to travel this route, though, sail these seas, then I was going to have to accept that travel through the Omega Triangle meant omegas in heat, and that meant omegas falling pregnant.

I did not, however, have to accept those pregnant omegas staying on my ship. I didn’t have to put them at risk.

Not even if my first mate claimed to be in love with one of them.

“Part of the reason we’re stopping at Port of New Hope is to visit your family,” Jeremiah said.

“True,” I acknowledged. My godfather had sent word that he needed to see me, and Jolly was the closest thing I had to true family. But... “Visiting my family doesn’t make me any more amenable to having pregnant omegas working my ship.”

“He didn’t fall pregnant while we were sailing through the Triangle,” Jeremiah said now.

“So you admit he was already pregnant when he came aboard my ship.”

Jeremiah’s lips clamped tight.

“And you brought him aboard the ship even knowing what my stance is about pregnant omegas.”

“Your stance is ridiculous.”

“My stance saves lives. It’s a rule I have in place to keep omegas and children say. I won’t knowingly create orphans aboard my ship if I can help it.”

“So what are you going to do? Put all the omegas ashore?” Jeremiah’s tone was sarcastic, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized what he had done.

I glommed onto the idea the way a shark grabs onto chum.

“Yes. That is exactly what I’m going to do,” I announced.

“We’ve already been through the Omega Triangle once, and we’re going into it again.” I tapped my forefinger on the ship’s log page in front of me, thinking. “Yes. Actually, I will be putting all omegas ashore before we venture into the Triangle a second time on this voyage.”

Jeremiah stared at me, his mouth hanging open.

I spun around to pull the ship’s log down from its place in the cabinet shelf. I slammed it down onto the table and opened it to the latest page. Taking a quill out of the holder and opening a jar of ink, I dipped the feather pen and wrote in a big, looping cursive, “Andrew Dennison, Second Mate, released in the Republic of Piratical Islands, on the Island of Barbadua, in the Port of New Hope Town.”

“Dammit, Captain, we can’t afford to be taking on a new second mate right now.”

“You just mean that you don’t want to have to find a new omega to be your mate,” I accused. Without looking at him, I followed up on the next line, writing, “All omega sailors, released in the Republic of Piratical Islands, on the Island of Barbadua, in the Port of New Hope Town, as follows, viz.”

I left the space following my Latin abbreviation for “namely” blank. I would have Jeremiah bring me a complete list of all the shipboard omegas before we made land in the next few days.

Raising my voice, I said loudly enough for everyone huddled around outside the door to hear me, “This is my ship, and I make the rules. From now on, there will be no more omegas aboard the Neptune’s Jewel.”

I threw open the cabin door. Sticking my head out, I stared around at all the sailors who were watching me, wide-eyed and terrified. “Did everyone hear that? No omega is to remain aboard on any routes that take us through the Omega Triangle. That means when we get to Barbadua, we are leaving behind any omegas of childbearing age.”

A babble of protesting voices went up from the crowd of sailors around the door, some of whom were omegas themselves, and others who had mates aboard the ship.

“Quiet,” I shouted. “Everyone who has worked the crew up to that point will get an appropriate share of the loot when we return. And we will find you berths aboard other ships. But no omegas will be sailing on with us.”

“How will we find enough sailors to crew the ship?” Jeremiah asked, his gaze worried.

“We’ve run the ship on a skeleton crew before. And we can pick up new sailors when we take other ships on the open seas. We’ve all gotten a little soft in the last few years—the Neptune’s Jewel has been run by a fat crew. I think it’s time we take on new alphas and betas, make everyone work a little harder for their keep.”

Jeremiah raised his eyebrows, his expression skeptical. “You think making sure everyone aboard the ship is unhappy will somehow make us into better pirates?”

“Hungrier pirates, maybe. And hungry pirates are better pirates.”

Jeremiah shook his head, a silent glance of communication passing between him and Andrew.

“You’re risking a mutiny, Captain.” I recognize Jeremiah’s reasonable voice, the one he used on me when he was trying to convince me of something against my own better judgment. It wasn’t going to work this time—not when I knew his real motivation was keeping his husband and unborn child aboard.

“We’ll see how the crew feels about that when our take is bigger this season than it’s ever been before. This will be good for the crew, good for the ship. Good for families,” I assured him, clapping my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll be back to Barbadua in no time and everyone will

Jeremiah shook his head and turned his back on me, moving out onto the deck. I had a list of crew members and their orientation in my records. I would use it to make my list of sailors to put ashore in Barbadua. I headed into my cabin to finish my log entry for the day.

This is it. The day everything changes.

As I stood just inside my cabin, I saw Jeremiah working his way through the crew, talking to them quietly, touching his shoulder here, an arm there.

He was good with the crew. And I would never deny that he knew what they wanted.

But his own emotional attachment to Andrew has gotten the better of him, I mused as I pulled my cabin door shut behind me. He and the second mate had been together for six months now, and I had considered moving Andrew off the ship before we went through the triangle. By apparently it wouldn’t have done any good, since the boy was already pregnant by then. Still, the trip through the triangle had cemented their relationship in a way I hadn’t expected. The two of them had been fucking like bunnies for months already, so I assumed they were as bonded as they could be.

I’d been wrong.

I sighed as I began copying over the list, considering whether this new route would be worth it. I had avoided the Omega Triangle for years. Unwilling to risk losing parts of my crew to its ravages, I had circled it, ignored it, avoided it.

Then I’d gotten the message from my godfather. He needed to see me. So we had pushed through on a new route, found our way to that part of the ocean I had avoided for fifteen years.

And look what it had gotten me. A pregnant second mate deeply bonded to my first mate. A first mate who was so angry at me he could barely make eye contact, and a ship full of omegas that I was going to have to put off the ship when we made land.

I blew my breath out in irritation.

Was Jeremiah right? Was it wrong to refuse to allow pregnant omegas aboard?

No. It would be fine. Soon enough, we would put ashore at Port New Hope Town. My godfather would take care of all the omegas I was going to have to leave behind—fully a quarter of my crew. I should never have taken on so many omegas in the first place. Doing so had broken a long-standing personal rule.

And this was what I got for breaking my own rules.

Never again. I didn’t allow pregnant omegas on the Neptune’s Jewel.

Families didn’t belong on a pirate ship.