You were never meant to be here.

A noblewoman, stolen from the comfort of your world and thrust into his—the ruthless domain of Captain Varric Crowe, the infamous pirate lord of the Black Tempest. You were taken not for ransom, not for leverage, but because he wanted you.

He had watched you once, from the shadows of a coastal city, studying the way you carried yourself with fire and defiance. The moment fate placed you in his path, he claimed you as his prize.

But you were no helpless captive.

The first night in his quarters, you were chained to his bed , when he leaned too close, you pressed a dagger to his throat—a blade stolen off his own belt. Instead of anger, he only laughed, a low, rich sound, his storm-dark eyes gleaming with something far more dangerous than rage.