Vowed to Hades (Romancing the Seas #4)

7. Captain Stone

CAPTAIN STONE

I t took three weeks for the Duchess to sail from Tortuga to their destination.

When they finally approached the rugged coast of northern England, the winds howled.

Captain Stone stood at the bow, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the landscape before them.

The Lake District stretched out in all its wild, untamed beauty—an expanse of rolling hills, jagged peaks, and mist-covered valleys that seemed untouched by the passage of time. The air was thick with the scent of earth and moss.

They were many miles from the nearest town. The only signs of life were the wood pigeons that cooed in the trees and the occasional flurry of squirrels looking for nuts.

Here, in this ancient place, the world felt older, as if the very ground held memories of long-forgotten legends .

The burial site of King Arthur, a place spoken of in hushed whispers, lay hidden in the heart of this unforgiving land.

Half a dozen men disembarked the Duchess to follow their King, their boots sinking into the damp earth as they began the trek inland.

The path wound through dense woods, the towering trees forming a canopy that blocked out much of the weak sunlight filtering through the overcast sky. The occasional deer darted between the trunks, their white tails flashing like beacons before disappearing into the shadows. The silence was heavy, broken only by the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant rumble of thunder as storm clouds gathered on the horizon.

As they ascended the hills, the landscape grew more rugged, the trees thinning out to reveal stark, craggy rocks that jutted from the earth like the bones of some ancient beast. The air grew colder, the wind whipping through the narrow passes with a mournful wail. It was a place that seemed forgotten by time, a land where the old magic still lingered, hidden just beneath the surface.

“Lovely spot for a burial, don’t you think?” King George quipped, his voice a low rumble as he trudged up the incline, his breath visible in the cold air.

“Perfect place to keep the curious at bay, if nothing else,” Prince Edward replied, his tone light but with an undercurrent of unease. He cast a wary glance at the darkening sky, as if expecting the heavens to unleash their fury at any moment.

Captain Stone remained silent; his thoughts heavy as he considered the task before them.

The legend of King Arthur was steeped in mystery, a tale of a once future king who would rise again in England’s hour of need.

But those were just stories, and Stone had learned long ago that stories were often built on a foundation of truth that had been twisted and reshaped over centuries. Whatever lay ahead, it would not be the romanticized vision of a noble king’s resting place.

As they neared the mouth of the cave hidden in the hills, the ground beneath their feet grew more treacherous, loose rocks threatening to send them tumbling back down the slope. The entrance was almost invisible, a jagged tear in the earth’s surface, partially obscured by overgrown brambles and creeping ivy.

It was clearly a place that did not want to be found.

The men hesitated at the threshold, their breath coming in short, visible puffs. The young naval officers, fresh-faced and wide-eyed with fear, exchanged nervous glances.

Stone could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their hands hovered near the hilts of their swords as if the steel might offer some protection against the unknown.

“Steady, lads,” Captain Stone said, his voice calm and authoritative. “We’ve come this far. No turning back now.”

With a nod from the captain, the men pressed forward into the cave, the darkness swallowing them whole.

The air inside was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else—something ancient and powerful that made the hairs on the back of Stone’s neck stand on end. The walls were slick with moisture, the floor uneven and treacherous underfoot.

They hadn’t gone far when a low, rumbling growl echoed through the chamber, the sound reverberating off the stone walls.

The men froze, their eyes widening in terror as the ground seemed to tremble beneath them.

Captain Stone’s heart skipped a beat, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword even as he knew it would be of little use against what awaited them.

Then it appeared—a monstrous shadow emerging from the depths of the cave, its massive form illuminated by the faint light of the torches.

The dragon was unlike anything Stone had ever seen, its scales black as night, its eyes glowing with a malevolent intelligence that sent a chill down his spine. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and as it opened its maw, a jet of fire shot out, engulfing the nearest officers in a searing inferno.

The screams of the dying men echoed through the cave; their bodies consumed by the flames before they could even draw their swords.

Captain Stone watched in horror as the dragon dispatched them with terrifying efficiency, its claws rending flesh from bone, its tail sweeping the remaining men off their feet and into the jagged rocks.

Stone locked eyes with Prince Edward across the carnage, the same question hanging between them—how in the name of all that was holy were they supposed to get past this beast?

The prince’s face was pale, his usual bravado stripped away in the face of such overwhelming power.

For the first time, Stone saw fear in Edward’s eyes, a fear that mirrored his own.

King George, for his part, seemed more irritated than frightened, though there was a tightness around his mouth that betrayed his true feelings. “Bloody dragons,” he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. “Always getting in the way of progress.”

Prince Edward shot his father a look of incredulity. “Father, with all due respect, this is not the time for flippancy.”

King George shrugged, his gaze fixed on the dragon as it circled the remaining men, its eyes narrowing as it assessed the threat—or lack thereof. “If we survive this, I’ll have a word with whoever’s in charge of maintaining these old myths. They could have at least mentioned the dragon.”

Captain Stone forced himself to think, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a plan. But all he could see was the dragon, its massive form blocking the only way forward. He could feel the heat of its breath from where he stood, the air thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh.

“Suggestions?” Prince Edward asked, his voice tight with barely contained panic as he edged closer to Stone, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded in reality.

Stone shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving the dragon. “I’ve faced many a beast in my time, but this…” He trailed off, the enormity of their situation sinking in. “This is something else entirely.”

The dragon roared, a deafening sound that shook the very walls of the cave, and Stone knew they were out of time. The beast was preparing to strike again, its massive wings unfurling as it prepared to launch itself at them.

“Run,” he muttered, more to himself than to the others. But there was nowhere to run, no escape from the fire and fury that awaited them.

And as the dragon reared back, its jaws opening wide to unleash another torrent of flame, Captain Stone realized that this might very well be the end of the road for them all.