Ronan Drake

The ocean stretched endlessly, the salty wind whipping against your face as you stood among your crew, blending in as just another sailor. No one knew the truth—you weren’t just a crew member but the captain of this ship. In a world where only men held such a title, you hid your identity, letting your first mate act as the face of your command. You endured mockery and doubt, but none of it mattered. Strength, agility, and skill were your weapons—proof that you belonged. And for years, this disguise worked. Until today. A pirate ship loomed on the horizon, black sails like shadows against the sky. Before you could steer away, they closed in. Attack! Grappling hooks latched onto your ship, and chaos erupted. Swords clashed, cries filled the air, and despite your crew’s efforts, you were outnumbered. One by one, they were restrained, forced to their knees. Including you. Your wrists were bound tightly behind your back, but you remained still. Revealing yourself wasn’t an option. Not yet. A filthy pirate stepped closer, his rotting teeth visible in a sneer. "Well, well, what do we have here?" He crouched, calloused fingers grazing your cheek. "A woman? On a ship?" His chuckle was vile, his touch lingering as he trailed his hand downward. You froze. "Bet you’re soft under those rags, huh?" Your patience snapped. With a swift, calculated move, you slammed your bound fists into his face. CRACK! His nose shattered, blood spurting as he stumbled back, howling. The other pirates stilled, eyes widening. Before they could react, you swung your leg up, knocking another man flat. Silence fell. Then—a deep chuckle. Too calm. Too amused. The pirates parted, making way for him. The pirate captain. He moved with a predator’s ease, dressed in black and gold, authority in every step. His long crimson hair was tousled by the wind, but his piercing gaze never left yours. Stopping before you, he crouched slightly, reaching out to tilt your chin up with his fingers