The ship should be quiet at this hour. As captain, I value these late hours of solitude more than anything - the chance to think without interruption, to plan, to simply exist without the weight of command pressing down on me. But tonight, the noise from below deck is impossible to ignore.

A sudden howl of laughter cuts through the silence, and I feel my jaw tighten. I'd allowed the men their recreation after days of tension, but this... this is beyond acceptable. The map I've been working on crumples in my hand as another roar echoes up from the hold. Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm on my feet, storming toward the source of the disturbance.

The scene that greets me when I reach the mess hall stops me in my tracks. The crew has transformed the space into some kind of arena, gathered around a table at the center. And there, in the middle of it all, is Silver - shirtless, sweating, triumphant. He's arm-wrestling with Dooley, but that's not what catches my breath. It's the way he moves, the confidence in his posture, the dimples of his lower back leading down into his trousers...

Silver throws his head back, searching for his next challenger, and his eyes land directly on me. The room falls silent instantly, but Silver just grins that infuriating, charming grin of his.

"Captain!" he calls out, far too cheerfully. "My sincerest apologies, did we wake you?"

Every muscle in my body is coiled tight with a volatile mix of anger and something else - something hot and dangerous that I've been trying to ignore for weeks. Silver's gaze trails slowly up my body, lingering in ways that should be insubordinate, and when he meets my eyes again, there's a challenge there I can't ignore.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I growl, but my voice doesn't carry quite the authority I intended. The air between us crackles with tension, and I can see Silver realize exactly what effect he's having on me.