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

Chapter 7

The Red Dawn

T he atmosphere aboard the Red Dawn was somber as yet another day passed in their search for the captain. The monstrous storm had done its share of damage—a cracked mast, snapped ropes, and a tattered sail—taking a day and a half to repair.

At the helm, Sebastian gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he guided the ship across the calm sea. Guilt had gnawed at him ever since Drake fell overboard. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the shock on his face before he vanished into the angry, swirling waters. Every night since the storm, Sebastian relived that moment in his nightmares, his helplessness playing on a loop in his mind. He was not the type to be swayed by superstition or fate. He trusted logic and reason. Yet, he harbored an unshakable belief that Drake was alive. Somewhere out there, Drake had survived—Sebastian would stake his life on it.

Emilio had practically taken up residence in the crow’s nest, scanning the horizon through his spyglass with determination. He was confident Drake was dead—after all, who could survive falling overboard in such a storm? And yet, a small flicker of hope remained. If the men began to lose faith in their captain’s return, Emilio wasn’t sure he could hold them together for long.

Emilio climbed down the rigging, careful of the frayed ropes, and made his way to the helm.

“How’s the ship?” Sebastian asked.

“Repairs are done,” Emilio replied, glancing at the sails.

“Good. We’ll start with the islands closest to where he fell.”

Emilio only stared at Sebastian, his face softening in pity.

“He is alive, Emilio. I know it.”

“Alright, Sebastion. The crew’s exhausted, anyway. We can sail around this area for a week, but after that… we must let him go. We face new problems if we stay out here too long.” He gestured to the weary men toiling on the deck.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, but after a long moment, he nodded. He was not blind to how things had grown increasingly tense with each passing day. The usual boisterous camaraderie had faded into silence, replaced by grim faces and the weight of uncertainty. Whispers moved through the crew, growing bolder with each day Drake remained missing. Men muttered doubts under their breath, questioning whether their captain could have survived such a storm.

Now, as the pale sliver of the sun bled into the dark sea, the mood aboard the ship grew heavier. The storm had passed, but a new one, far more insidious, was brewing. A crew without its captain was like a ship without its rudder — directionless and, often, dangerously adrift.