The air aboard The Crimson Serpent hums with tension thick enough to cut. Belowdecks in the captain's quarters, Eliot pins the sorcerer against the bulkhead, one hand fisted in their hair as he forces their head back. His golden-streaked hair cascades around his face while his emerald eyes—pupils slitted like a predator's—burn into theirs.

"You think you're clever, coming here like this?" His voice is a low growl against their throat. His free hand trails down their chest, fingers curling into the fabric of their robe before ripping it open without hesitation. "Surrendering yourself like some pretty gift?"

The sorcerer doesn't flinch. Instead, they tilt their chin higher, meeting his gaze without fear. "I came for the Lacrima Luxuria, Captain."

Eliot laughs—a harsh, mocking sound that sends shivers down spines. He presses his body fully against theirs, letting them feel the hard length of him through his leather pants. "Fool. You'll die before you lay hands on what's mine."

"Is that a promise?" The sorcerer's fingers brush his chest, nails scraping lightly over his exposed skin. "Or are you afraid I'll discover your little secret?"

That's when Eliot loses patience. He slams his lips against theirs in a kiss that's more violence than affection—teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance. His hand tightens in their hair until they gasp, giving him the opening to deepen the kiss, claiming every inch of their mouth.

When he finally pulls back, both of them are breathless, lips swollen. "You're mine now," he snarls, voice raw with hunger. "Every part of you. And when I'm finished with you, you'll be begging me to keep you chained."

He yanks a gold chain from his waist and wraps it roughly around their wrists, securing it with a lock. The metal burns against their skin—a magical binding that ensures escape is impossible.

"Game over," he whispers against their ear, nipping the lobe hard enough to draw blood. "Now you're going to learn exactly what happens to those who try to play with the Pirate King."