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Chapter 40 - Smallclothes (Flynn's POV)
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2025-08-08 20:57:44
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Lost Between the Tides Reader Update
Hey, all you beautiful readers!Just a little update and an apology for my lack of updates of recent. I'm actually in hospital at the moment, hence the delay, so things might be a little slow while I focus on rest and recovery.Thank you so much for your patience and understanding—I really appreciate all of you. Updates will resume once I’m back home and in the swing of things again.Much love, Christina
Lost Between the Tides Chapter 40 - Smallclothes (Flynn's POV)
(Flynn's POV)"Get back to work, ye leering bastard!" Declan's voice rang out across the deck.I'd been hesitant to leave him in charge. Hell, Declan was the kind of man ye could barely trust to leave alone and unconscious, let alone wide awake and in charge of a crew of men. But Jasper was on shore leave, Owen was off negotiating a fair price for our food resupply, and Declan was an officer... He should be capable. And he'd assured me that he'd be on his best behavior. But I came back a little early, just to make sure he hadn't set up a cockfight or a bloody whorehouse on my deck.No amount of pessimism could have prepared me for what I saw upon my return...There, strung up at the stern like the ship was a washerwoman’s yard, hung her clothes. Her shirt, her breeches, and some tiny black scraps of fabric I’d seen tied around her neck, peeking out from beneath her shirt. Now they were flapping in the breeze for all the crew and neighboring ships to gawk at.And there was Declan—loun
Lost Between the Tides Chapter 39 - Declan (Morgan's POV)
(Morgan's POV)I'd seen him before, but I couldn't recall where. Probably that day I'd spent dying on the deck, drifting in and out of consciousness while everyone just worked around me like I wasn't even there.He was leaning against the railing, back to the sea, idly picking at his nails with a knife. But when he saw me, a mischievous smirk crept onto his face."Well, would ye look at that," he drawled, slipping the knife back into a worn leather sheath on his belt with an easy, practiced motion.Oh, great... Another cocky fucking Irishman. Was there a factory churning them out below deck or something?I took a step back, retreating deeper into Flynn's cabin as I clutched the linen sheet around me more tightly. God forbid this crusty bastard saw my bare shoulders as some sort of invitation."I'm looking for Oliver," I said, keeping my tone neutral but firm. I was aiming for polite disinterest, but I think I landed somewhere between rude waiter and irritated parent of a toddler.But
Lost Between the Tides Chapter 38 - Bathtime (Morgan's POV)
(Morgan's POV)The surgeon had returned again on our second day in port, where he reapplied what I was now coining "corpse oil" to my burned skin. It helped a little, I'll admit, limiting the itching and the stinging sensation I was now dealing with—but the smell alone made it unbearable. And after Flynn's comment the day before, I was now feeling even more self-conscious about it.I needed a fucking bath.Oliver spent the day hovering around again. Probably because Flynn had told him to "keep an eye" on me, but I had a feeling he'd find a way to come and torment me with his incessant questions even if Flynn hadn't ordered it.That evening, while Flynn and Owen sat around the desk, drinking and plotting out courses on a chart while Flynn complained about the smell that was me, I figured I'd take the opportunity to do something about it. I mean, it was probably the perfect time. At least Owen looked like he knew what soap was.The conversation went reasonably well. Flynn seemed glad th
Lost Between the Tides Chapter 37 - The Salve (Morgan's POV)
(Morgan's POV)Being at port was much the same as being at sea. But there was less movement, less noise... most of the time, at least, and a whole lot of me being confined to Flynn's quarters.He and Owen had definitely been up to something before they had headed ashore. I lay there on my bed, pretending to be asleep, while Flynn and Owen grumbled things in hushed voices, like, "We'll say she wasn't flyin' a flag", and "They fired the first cannon" while Owen scribbled it all down.The surgeon, Old Mr Finch, as Oliver called him, came to visit me before leaving the ship too, and he seemed pleased with my recovery. He inspected my stitches, asked me what color my urine was, which was mildly mortifying, but I guess he had medical reason to know, and then he proceeded to smear some revolting Hogwarts potion over my burned skin that he said was a mixture of beeswax and olive oil. The shit smelled like fucking months-old pan drippings, and it took everything I had not to rub it off of my s
Lost Between the Tides Chapter 36 - The Box (Morgan's POV)
(Morgan's POV)The horrors of the night before loomed over me as the wooden box behind the curtain began to quietly call my name.I'd been fighting it for hours, but the desperation only grew with each passing minute, and I knew... I knew it in the deepest darkest depths of my heart, that at some point, I was going to have to sit there on that stupid wooden box and pee.The entire awkward situation had only been made worse with the realization that I was sharing a room with Flynn.I'd known it all along. I mean, he'd yelled at me to get off of his bed, and he was always in and out of the room. But I think that on some level, my brain had prevented the pieces from fitting together, either out of sheer denial or some lingering concussion-induced brain damage.So it was only when he began stripping off clothes that it really sank in for me.I tried not to watch, immediately turning my back as soon as it clicked into place what he was doing. But I could hear the clothes rustling and falli
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