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Summary
Captain Arasha of the Dying Rose was feared, and her crew has been talked about in vast stories, although her and her crew's identity has always been unknown. Even if they're one of the biggest names in the sea. On a night that was meant to be a usual trip to the tavern like any other, Arasha falls into the arms of another fellow captain, and unknowingly falls into the middle of a feud, causing her to fall victim to a 'kidnapping'.
The memories came rushing back as she stared at the man that charmed, and imprisoned her. Trevor, a pirate, a known one, just like her. Assuming that he knew that about her, somehow, thus being here and not stranded in the bar, or worse. Mentally, Arasha beat herself up, for letting herself slip so easily, and letting herself fall for whatever he was playing on her. In a surge of adrenaline, she yanked at her chains, tugging at them and getting more and more frustrated as they only made sound instead of coming loose, like a taunting laugh. “Morning, angel.” The heavy voice from the previous night called to her. She glared at the foul man, scrunching her face in annoyance, as she continued to pull at her cuffs. “You know you could just ask?”