The Tides of Loss and Longing (Love from the Deep #1)

Chapter 1

Drake

1682, The Caribbean Sea

T he sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow on the ship's wooden planks. As evening drew near, the crew aboard the Red Dawn gathered on the main deck, their eyes fixed on the dark clouds looming in the distance. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as the men murmured amongst themselves, exchanging worried glances. Storms at sea were nothing new, but the threat of a massive tempest was enough to send chills down even the most seasoned seafarer's spine.

The wind howled, carrying the scent of salt, seaweed, and something slightly metallic—hinting at the coming lightning. Captain Drake Hawthorne stood at the helm, eyes fixed on the horizon, watching the clouds, black and rolling, swallow the sky. He could feel the tension crackling in the air, the pressure shifting. He turned to address his crew, silencing the whispers.

“Men, tonight we shall face a storm of immense magnitude,” he began, his voice firm as he surveyed the anxious faces of those assembled before him. “We must fortify the ship, secure our supplies, and ready ourselves for the battle ahead. Our lives may depend on it.”

A resounding chorus of “aye” echoed through the night, the intensity of their voices reverberating across the ship like a battle cry. As the crew dispersed, each man knew his role in the preparations, for Drake only invited the very best to join his crew. It was not hard to attract good men, for his status among pirates had grown in recent years, earning him respect. Drake’s first mate, Sebastian, once told him that his unyielding spirit and fierce determination made him a force to be reckoned with. His men admired him, and his enemies feared him—just the way Drake preferred it.

Entering the captain's quarters, Drake spotted Emilio, his navigator, poring over a map at the large ornate desk in the center of the room. Sebastian lounged in a high-backed leather chair, his arms tucked behind his head, feet propped up the desk.

“How are things progressing here?” Drake asked.

“Good, Captain,” Emilio replied. “Come look at this map and tell me your thoughts. I believe I have found Mermaid's Grotto. We’re close.”

“Finally!” Sebastian exclaimed. “We have been sailing this godforsaken archipelago for weeks. I’m ready to dock at the nearest port, find a warm bed, and a willing woman.”

“Aren't we all, my friend,” Drake replied with a wry grin. “But alas, we can not pass up this chance. The riches this island is rumored to hold are too vast.”

Emilio glanced warily at his captain. “Yes, but the island is small and unassuming. Few are certain they’ve even found the correct one.”

“And let’s not forget, no one’s ever found the entrance to this so-called secret grotto. They say only a mermaid can find it,” Sebastian added. “Superstitious drivel if you ask me.”

In the flickering lantern light, Drake scanned the intricate lines on the map, tracing them with his fingers, trying to absorb every detail. “Fortune favors the bold,” he declared. “And there is none so bold as I.”

Emilio’s dark eyes met his captain's gaze. “Aye.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at Drake’s boast, but a grin tugged at his lips all the same.

Drake had spent years chasing myths and half-truths, but the legend of Mermaid’s Grotto had always tugged at him more than the others. It wasn’t just the allure of the treasure said to be hidden within—gold, jewels, and priceless relics beyond imagining—it was the challenge. No pirate had ever managed to find the entrance, making it irresistible.

Suddenly, the boatswain, Thomas, burst through the door. “Cap’n, the ship’s ready fer the storm. She be fast approachin!”

“Excellent. Our first trial begins, lads. Let’s hope the storm doesn’t send us too far off course,” Drake said.

“Or send us to our watery graves,” Sebastian mumbled.

◆◆◆

The wind whistled through the rigging, carrying with it the salty sting of the sea. Rain pelted the crew relentlessly, drenching them to the bone. Drake’s voice cut through the storm’s fury as he barked orders from the helm, each word carrying the weight of survival. “Batten down the hatches! Reef the sails! Brace for impact!” The crew moved with precision, their well-practiced actions a testament to their experience.

The ship creaked and groaned as it rode the colossal swells, climbing towering walls of water before plunging into the abyss below. The crew clung to the slippery deck, their bodies tossed about like rag dolls. Hands gripped ropes, sails flapped wildly, and seawater surged over the bow, drenching everything in its path.

Amid the chaos, a sudden creaking sound cut through the storm's roar, signaling trouble. Noticing the strain on the mainmast, Drake shouted, “Brace the mast! Tie off those lines!” His voice, barely audible over the howling wind, spurred the crew into swift action.

They quickly reinforced the mast, lashing it with extra ropes to stabilize it against the storm's relentless force. Despite the torrential rain and howling winds, their efforts held the mast steady, preventing a catastrophe. Their chance of surviving this storm was minimal without the main mast.

Drake noticed the helmsman struggling to keep the ship on course against the storm’s fury, the wheel spinning violently in his grasp. Fighting against the wind’s ferocious pull, Drake wiped away the rain and sweat clouding his vision and moved to assist him with steely determination. But Sebastian was there before he could reach him, taking hold of the wheel alongside the struggling man.

A deafening crack of thunder split the sky as lightning streaked across the horizon. A rope snapped, whipping through the air and striking Drake in the temple. Pain exploded in his skull, causing him to stagger back, colliding with the ship's railing. The momentum pushed him overboard. As he fell, the last image burned into Drake's mind before everything went dark was Sebastian, one hand braced on the wheel, the other outstretched towards him, his eyes filled with terror.