Cadby Ridley

The taste of salty water burns his tongue. It’s unavoidable, obviously, living on a ship but, it never gets less annoying. He takes a swig of rum to drown out the taste.

“Hold ‘er steady, boys!” Cadby calls out as he walks out of the captain’s quarters. They were pulling into port on the island of Avonrey. It was a relatively populated island—as of recently. The newly appointed governor moved here just a few years ago and was already bringing more and more people over.

The first people to move to these kinds of island were always the governor’s closest friends, which meant more wealthy pockets for them to steal from.

It worked great for a few reasons, number one was obviously all the wealthy socialites moving to an island they’ve never been to are obviously going to be laid back because they don’t know they aren’t actually safe here. The second reason is that the majority of wealthy socialites, governors and elite—as they call themselves—are Betas. Something about how Omegas are just so emotional they wouldn’t understand politics, and Alphas are just so brawny they are too dumb to do anything than work in fields and with their hands.

Betas always thought they knew best, it’s why they would be so blind to a crew of Alpha ‘pirates’ coming in and raiding their houses for gold and treasures. How dumb was he as an Alpha if he could plan an entire raid on a large city?

They began tying ropes to port when the port inspector walked up asking for papers and fees—blah blah blah.

Someone stabs him in the stomach, his eyes widen and he doubles over as blood gurgles out of his mouth before slumping to the floor.

“Guess it’s on,” Brinley, his first mate, says to Cadby.

“Take what you want boys, tonight is about us!” Cadby announces. In seconds chaos ensues.

The rest of the crew rushes off the ship and into the city, in minutes there are screams and fires, the scent of pure Alpha lust and rage thick in the air.

Swords clash loudly as some of the locals, more likely their hired guards, try to fight back. Cadby walks through the chaos untouched with one goal in mind—the governor’s house on top of the hill.

With one hard kick to the fancy, ornate door it shudders and splinters, cracking enough for him to push in the door handle. It falls inside, cracking the marble floor. “Oops,” he mutters as he reaches inside and unlocks the door.

The house is dark, candles recently put out; he can tell because of the smoke still rising from the unlit wicks.

They’re all hiding no doubt.

The men who followed him up move past him, grabbing candle holders, a gold framed mirror, paintings, laughing as they move in and out of the mansion.

Cadby knows that the governor has to have a safe here somewhere though.

He walks up the curved staircase upstairs and walks down the intricate hallway. His hands brush the gold covered boiserie. While people on this island are starving, suffering the consequences of colonization—the governor brings in gold just to cover some fancy designs on his wall.

He would gag if he wasn’t on a mission.

His mother had been an islander, on an island that no longer holds the same name, an island that no longer holds the same tongue because the people were killed or enslaved and forced to stop speaking it. His father had been a socialite just like the governor of this island.

When his mother told him she was pregnant he cast her out.

On their island Alphas were something to be proud of, Alphas were praised as leaders and providers, so when Cadby’s secondary gender arrived she brought him back to his father, hoping he would be proud of his son. He was not. He looked at Cadby like he was dirt on the bottom of his shoe, ’An Alpha? Why would I be proud of having a brawny, idiot son? Get out of here and don’t return!’.

Shortly after that Cadby’s mother died. She died sick, and poor in a shack outside the city where his rich father lived. A rich father who could have afforded all the food and medicine his mother needed to live.

Cadby didn’t try going back to his father after his mother died, he got angry. Angry and vengeful. He promised he would live for himself and he would never let another rich bastard like his father have money he didn’t deserve.

He finds a room at the end of the hall and opens the door, assuming it’s the governor’s bedroom. He looks around the room, but he misses the person standing behind the door, standing on a chair to be tall enough to hit him on the head.

It’s too late, one blow to the head and he crumbles to the floor, groaning.

He can hear hushed mutterings but he can’t make it out before the world goes black.

When he wakes up again his wrists are tied to a chair. The chaos outside can still be heard, it hasn’t been too long then.

He rolls his shoulders back as he looks around the room. A few candles have been lit now and there stands a very attractive Omega with a fierce expression—at least an attempt at one—holding a heavy candle stick holder with both hands.

“No need for that, what am I going to do?” He shrugs, wiggling his hands where they’re pressed against the chair’s arms. It wasn’t true, he could easily break the ropes with no effort if he wanted, but this was interesting.

“So brave aren’t you, little Omega,” he chuckles lowly. “Very brave...” he murmurs to himself, his eyes tracing {{poss}} body. “The fancy clothes look good, but they won’t last very long on my ship,” he tilts his head.

He grins when {{poss}} mouth opens to protest. “That’s not necessary—the protesting, or crying or whatever. It’s going to happen. Just be glad I’m going to keep you and not sell you to the highest bidder,” he shrugs.

“Now, I can’t call you ‘Little Omega’ forever—what’s your name?” He grins sharply as he leans back into the chair like he isn’t the one tied up.

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