Black Sails Billy Novels & Stories

The ship was tilted at a forty-five-degree angle, and a foot of cold, salty water was sloshing around the floorboards. ​“Silas?” I gasped, coughing up a mouthful of brine. ​“I’m here,” Silas groaned from the navigator’s throne. He was slumped over the console, his remaining hand clutching the Black Box. “The hull held, but the thrusters are flooded. We’re trapped under the waterline, Winnie. And the Clean-Up ships… they’re still up there.”

She was his mate, and instead of loving her, he banished her when she killed the love of his life...

Flashes of red and silver through the trees caught Violet Bellerose's eye. Horse hooves thundered through the forest underbrush. Startled deer and squirrels bounded ahead on either side of the riverbank. The punt kept its lazy course on the water. "Faster!" she commanded the captain. He looked her dead in the eye and pulled the steering pole from the water. The small boat ran aground as horses emerged from the trees. Their riders bore the emblem of Ipsit—the neighboring kingdom to hers, Basharr.

Slowly, the muscles in his jaw tightened, a low, barely audible growl vibrating in the back of his throat. "What is it?" I asked, a sudden, cold prickle of apprehension sliding down my spine. "The western shipping lanes," Silas muttered, handing the parchment to Marcus. "Three merchant vessels carrying the winter grain supplies from the free territories have vanished in the Blackwater Sea. No wreckage, no survivors. The port authority thinks it’s pirates from the outer islands, but the scouts found something else on the shore near the last known coordinates." Marcus looked up from the letter, his expression grim. "They found a fractured hull piece, Alpha. It was scorched with a specialized,

Cassandra’s POV “Holy shit, Dillon. This is…there are no words!” I exclaimed as the salty wind blew through my hair. We were on a luxury sail boat, and the captain had just put up the sails. There was nothing but blue ocean in front of us. Cameron, Stella, Dillon and I were all sitting on the front of the yacht, as the power of the wind propelled us through the water. Right beside us, dolphins jumped. Actual real life dolphins. Dillon was sitting behind me, his legs splayed out. I leaned back into his chest and lifted my head.

Wobbling upward in curling gray fingers. Savage turned and ordered the sails adjusted. Slowing the ship. There was a thunk and a slight jostle before a scraping along the starboard side. “Got a floater!” A sailor called. Leaning over the rail. To watch the greenish bloated figure bobbing in the water. Loose bits of skin peeling free to coat the hazy water. “Savage Jack!” Dimurah shouted. “Are we in the Sea of Souls? You’re not dumping me on Sanctuary Island! You’re not!”

The envelope was unmarked, but the contents sent a chill down her spine. “We need to talk. Midnight. The docks. Come alone. —B.V.” Lydia read the note over Mia’s shoulder, her expression darkening. “Billy Vagaz,” she muttered. “This could be a trap.” “Or it could be an opportunity,” Mimi countered. “If Billy’s willing to talk, it means he’s not entirely loyal to Dylan. We could use that.” Mia’s brow furrowed as she considered their words. She knew Billy by reputation—impulsive, ruthless, and unpredictable. But he was also a valuable asset if his offer of help was genuine.

"We’re going. Now." "No!" Noah fought. He swung his fist, catching the scout in the jaw. The scout spat blood. He raised his sword to strike Noah, but a horn sounded from the palace gates. A high, clear note. The scouts froze. "The Southern Empire," one of them whispered. "The black sails. They've hit the harbor." Noah looked toward the sea. A massive ship was gliding into the bay. Its sails were the color of midnight. On the prow, a giant golden sun was rising.

“Team Two reporting. If there was something in the water, we’d have seen it. Still nothing.” Billy lowered the radio and let out the breath that had been caged in his chest. Beyond the tape line, Scott sat in the sand, knees up, eyes drained to glass. Faith stood beside him, Chris just behind her. Sergeant Elsie paced nearby, arms folded, uniform damp with seawater and sweat. Billy approached, tentative. “Sergeant.” Elsie turned, her face pale with exhaustion. “What is it?” “They’ve swept the whole bay. There’s… nothing. Not a trace.”

I can’t wait to tell them all. I grab Maggie’s hand in mine and gently rub circles on the top of her smooth skin. She slides me a smile and blushes as we close in on the tents. Billy’s enormous figure can be seen stalking towards us in a fury. He stops short when he sees us and darts his eyes to our entwined hands, smirking. “Where are you off to?” I ask him. “Well, I was coming to save you.” “Save me? From what?” I ask, bewildered.