Author's Note: Since I left you on such a cruel cliffhanger, here's the next chapter without too much of a wait 😊 A few notes of warning – if extra steamy is not your thing, then beware. Also contains some mention of abuse if that could be a trigger for some.

It's an extra long one, too. Don't forget to leave a comment and let me know what you thought… I pretty much poured my heart into this one and I can't wait for you to read it!


Harry's words were a shot of heat straight to her core and Melody bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

"I thought you were cold," she managed, her voice a bit tight.

"Yeh kept me in the dark a hundred feet under the sea. So aye, I was." He smirked. "No thermoregulation, remember? But I'm feelin' better now and I'm sure yeh can warm me the rest o' the way."

A flutter in her chest was her body's answer to Harry Hook's proposition. Oh yes, that cord of tension was coiling again between them, she could feel its uncomfortable pressure mounting, and she was starting to realize how much seeing his body like this was adding to that strain.

Harry spread his shirt out on a rock to dry and dumped the water out of his boots, then stood to shake out his pants, revealing the span of his muscular back and beautiful ivory skin. As he stretched, her eyes caught on something else across the widest plane of his shoulders and when the moon angled just right, she could see the skin was marred by dozens of criss-crossing scars. The ridges were shadowed in the moonlight, the white raised edges seeming so unnatural on his otherwise perfect body.

She brought a hand to her mouth reflexively and she couldn't hide her shocked expression before he turned around again, gaze locking on hers.

His eyes darkened and she wished she could take that moment back.

"Harry," she said, "what -?" But she couldn't finish, not sure she could handle the truth of those scars.

He finished spreading out his clothes, then came to her side, plopping down in the shallows as the waves licked at his feet.

He sighed, deeply. "I was hopin' we could skip yeh seein' that, but I guess it isnae too hard to miss."

"They're not – "

"That bad?" he finished. "Aye, they are."

But she was not going to let him finish her sentences.

"It makes me beyond angry that someone would ever do that to you, but looking at you, well…" She sighed, twisting his ring around her finger, readying herself for what would probably be another embarrassing proclamation. "I was going to say that I think you're beautiful, and your scars are not enough to take away from that."

He seemed shocked by her candor and if she was being honest with herself, she felt a little shocked at how easily it had come out. But it was the truth. It was the reason she liked to steal glances at him, wanted to stare into those eyes as often as possible. It was why she felt heat creeping along her skin when she watched him in R.O.A.R. practice. He was beautiful. And the scars were just a reminder of how much he'd had to endure, and that made him so much more incredible.

"I've been called lots o' things," he said, "But I've never been called that before."

"Well it's true, and those scars are just a reminder of everything you've had to overcome to make you that way."

She hoped Harry knew she was talking about more than his body. That she was learning more of who he was each day and was falling for the stunning soul underneath all of that pirate gear.

"You don't ever have to talk about it if you don't want to," she said, "but if you do, I'm here."

A whole minute went by, maybe longer as they stared out from their small, secluded island towards the lighted bridge far away. The splash of the waves coming in and the frothy hiss as they receded created the rhythm Harry needed to emerge from his brooding silence.

"I wasnae a very fast learner. Or I was stubborn. That's what Da' used to say." His voice was far away and the sound of it terrified her. It was as though he'd traveled someplace so distant, she was scared he wouldn't find his way back.

"And if it wasnae me, it would've been me sisters. Harriet was always his favorite, so he'd probably never lay a finger on her, anyway. But C.J. was the youngest and about as wild as me."

Melody studied every expression he made. The way his lip tightened as he looked out over the ocean at the Isle, the way his eyes seemed glassy, glazed over, and the little twitch in his jaw that meant he was clenching his teeth.

As heart-wrenching as it was for her to hear this, a part of her knew how cathartic it would be for him. So she hoped he'd continue.

"All in all, I wou'dnae change anything about how I handled meself. I did what I had to do." He dug into the sand with his toes, burying and unburying his feet over and over as the waves washed over him. "Besides, it doesnae matter now. Harriet and C.J. are safe and far away on their own adventures."

She reached out to take his hand. His gloves were soaked and his grip was weak around her, but she squeezed him tight anyway, wanting him to know she was listening.

His next words were a whisper, nearly swallowed by the churning sea. "He'd beat me where the crew could see. He only did it when he was drunk and when I'd done summat that didnae satisfy him. Once, it was a torn sail. I was thirteen and as weak as a straw hut in a hurricane. I cou'dnae move the riggin' in time and…"

Now his hand was clenching hers so tight, it was beginning to feel uncomfortable, but she didn't say a word.

"The sail tore straight through when I slipped. I had five lashin's in front of the entire crew. He liked to use me as an example. If he'd punish his own flesh and blood like that, then what would he do to other crew that would dare disobey him?" His throat bobbed in a hard swallow. "When I got older and stronger, he found new ways to punish me."

Harry's breathing was shallow, ragged now and his gaze seemed unfocused, still someplace far away. When he turned his head, the slight change in the angle of the moonlight revealed eyes welling with tears, a bottom lip tight and trembling.

And Melody was finding it difficult to stifle her own rage. He'd been so young, just a child and his father beat him for sport to prove a point. Disgusting. Truly disgusting and Melody was livid.

But she buried all of that down now. He didn't need her angry. Harry needed her to listen.

So, she did. She waited, allowing the pulse of the sea and the touch of her hand to be his comfort.

Harry's next words to her came in one long exhalation, as though it took everything he had to put voice to the feelings beneath. "All I wanted was to please him. For so long, that's all I ever wanted."

Melody's throat tightened with those words, the words of a small boy trapped inside of this grown man's body and she thought her heart would break for him.

He drew his legs close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, letting his head rest on one knee. Melody scooted closer, circling an arm around his waist. And she held him.

She held him so long like that, the tide had begun to rise noticeably. But she could sense he was still thinking and he still needed her beside him to brave those thoughts. So, she stayed quiet and let her warmth be her response where words would only fail.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when Harry stood suddenly. He stripped off his gloves, leather straps, his rings, everything, and he tossed them onto a dry spot in the sand. Then he stomped back up to the rocky ledge where he'd stowed his clothes and weapons, and retrieved his hook.

His expression was a chaotic tangle of pain and fury as he glared down at the weapon in his hand. Seeing him unhinged like this had the tempo of her pulse quickening, reminding her just how much weight he carried around under all of that pirate bravado.

Her eyes tracked him carefully as he rushed back into the water, wading in over his knees, holding the hook in his right hand. And he froze.

Moonlight reflected violently along the sharp curve of the weapon as Harry gripped it tight, twisting it over… and over… and over…

Waves crashed against his thighs as he stood like a statue, peering out over the endless expanse of blackened sea, watching the wave caps shift and shimmer with silver light like broken glass.

Then, in one fluid motion, he drew back his powerful arm, leaning as far back as he could to gain momentum and launched his hook into the air. It flew at least fifty yards before landing in the sea,making hardly a splash. And then it was gone. Lost to the deep as Harry stood there, shoulders heaving, out of breath. She wanted to go to him, to stand with him there, but she had the feeling this was something he needed to do on his own. So, she waited.

Eventually, he turned away from the water, wading slowly back to shore as his face contorted into a hundred different painful expressions. When he splashed back toward more shallow water, she saw the tears streaming down his face catching glints of the moon.

Seas. Throwing away that hook must have been like severing his own hand.

But he didn't say a word. He only sat back down next to her and then, skin on skin, he laced their fingers together again.

They were silent, warm palms pressed together, as they sat in the dark, feeling the ocean waves, listening to each other breathe. She caressed the soft, exposed parts of his hand he normally kept hidden under his gloves, running her soft touch over the lines of his fingers, tracing each angle, every contour until finally, when she looked over at him again, some of the light had returned to his eyes.

He had tilted his head up to gaze at the stars.

Then, slowly, he found his voice. It was shaky but she was so happy to hear it in that moment.

"That one's Pisces," he said, pointing to what looked like a triangle pattern of stars. "The fish."

"It looks like a piece of pizza to me," she said.

"Always thinkin' about food." And it was such a relief to hear him joke.

He scanned the sky, finding another to point out. "That's Delphinus, the Dolphin."

"Looks like a kite," she said, following his finger.

He continued naming constellations for her, pointing them out with a practiced ease. It was something she'd never studied so she followed him intently.

"Smee told me a story once," he said, letting his eyes settle on her for the first time since he'd sat down beside her what seemed like hours ago. "I'm sure yeh've heard it. Peter Pan brought a girl back with him to Neverland. Wendy Darling. She was a girl from someplace far away called London. And do yeh know how he did it?"

"Pixie dust?" She had heard the story.

"Aye. Pan sprinkled the girl with pixie dust and they flew toward the second star to the right, then straight on 'til morning."

He looked up to the sky, and she knew he was trying to figure out which of the billions of tiny winking lights overhead was that star.

Melody wondered if it would work in reverse, if they could find London that way.

"I loved the story and asked Smee to tell it again and again," Harry said. "But me da' forbade stories and such. 'Specially about Pan. And dutiful Smee didnae want to get caught."

"I can see why you liked the story," she said. Of course, he could relate. He was stuck underneath a bubble on the Isle with a father who hated him. He wanted to escape, to fly away. "Second star to the right, huh? Do you think it works in reverse? Could we get to this magical place called London?"

She saw a glimmer of a smile on his lip. "I've always wanted to try. Maybe we can save a sprinkle or two of pixie dust and try it out later?"

"Sounds like another great adventure," she said.

The warmth had returned to his voice, the fire was back in his eyes and it was then that she flicked her fin playfully, splashing him, trying to tease out a bigger smile.

It worked, and that flash of his bright grin in the night filled her with an instant shock of warmth.

"There's summat about yeh mermaid, that gets me to talkin', even if talkin' was the last thing I was plannin' to do with yeh just now."

"Then quit your yappin' and get to touchin'," she teased. "You promised you weren't done with me yet."

And he made good on his promise then, taking the hand he'd been holding and pulling it up behind her head.

She yelped with the sudden movement, falling back onto the beach as a wave rolled over her shoulders and he pinned her into the wet sand.

"So, yeh want me to touch yeh, do yeh?" he drawled.

His damp hair hung over his eyes as he leaned over and kissed her forehead. His lips were warm against her skin and she closed her eyes to savor his delicate touch. "Like that?" he asked.

"Not quite," she said.

He bent his head to kiss her in the sensitive place just below her ear, leaving little tingles where his lips had brushed against her neck.

"Like that?"

"Closer."

Then he had his other hand at her waist, dragging heat down to her hips with his touch and he buried his nose in his most favorite place between her neck and shoulder and kissed her there. When he added a bite and started moving his lips to trail those hot caresses across her skin, her body reacted with an instant rush of desire.

"That's pretty close, now," she breathed into his ear.

She felt him shiver and with hardly any clothes between them, he pressed himself harder against her and it was skin on skin, and scales…

"Are you sure this isn't awkward, I mean, I can change back…"

But his mouth found hers then, stopping any further protests she might have. And he wasted no time with being gentle. It was as though he was starved for her, and maybe he was, because he was already running his hands up and down every part of her and he didn't seem to care if it was skin or scales.

And she wanted to make him feel good, after what he'd been through emotionally tonight, she wanted to help him forget. So, Melody tried to let go of those self-conscious thoughts and lost herself in the feel of him, the weight of him. She buried her fingers into those hard muscles of his back, feeling every dip, every ripple, dragging her fingers over his shoulders, down those powerful arms. And oh, this was so much better than just looking. The warm, hardness of his body was turning her insides to molten fire and soon she found herself whimpering into his ear.

"There are those sounds again, lass. I warned yeh about those." His hot mouth next to her ear sent another shot of that heat straight to the center of her need.

She sucked on his bottom lip in answer, then trailed kisses across his jaw and to his neck, tasting the salt of the ocean on his skin. He hummed his satisfaction, the sound rumbling against her lips still pressed against his throat.

Then he was pushing her bikini top off, skimming light fingers around the sides of her breasts, building an agonizing suspense for more of his touch. She'd had enough of the teasing and she tried to scold him, but when she breathed his name it was more moan than reproach.

Finally, he took her full breast in his palm, kneading and circling, building more of that tension inside of her until she was positively aching for him. She rocked her hips up against him and his hand dragged lower, down toward the center of that insatiable hunger. His fingers were close, exploring the sensitive scales where the liquid heat was pooling, she could feel it, but she was… she was…

"Harry, are you sure this…"

"Yeh said yeh were sick of talkin'," he murmured, his voice a husky rasp. "Did yeh change yer mind?"

"No, I didn't change my mind," she breathed. "It's just - how do you know - I mean, mermaids are built different, I…"

"I can see that with me own eyes."

"Then how –"

He sighed, obviously frustrated at the interruption. "Pirates talk. 'Specially drunk ones. I overheard a lot o' talk I should nae have, when I was much too young to have heard it. There were mermaids in Neverland and a lot of crewmen who were happy to share the details."

Oh my. Well, she'd asked hadn't she?

And before she could say anymore, he kissed her hard into the sand and spoke roughly against her mouth. "Now haud yer wheesht and let me pleasure yeh." And oh that brogue was out in full force - he was most certainly excited.

And this time, she didn't need a translation.

His fingers went back to work, building that fire and oh, he knew. Somehow he knew exactly where she needed his touch. As he skimmed lower, she let her own hands roam across his body, his hips, his glorious backside through his wet shorts and she felt her breath growing choppy, coming in bursts as she arched her hips to rub herself against him.

She couldn't be close enough, couldn't feel enough of his skin against hers. She gripped him harder, reveling in the feeling of his delicious weight pressed against her.

The waves were reaching higher now as the tide was coming in, dousing her fiery skin and flavoring Harry's deep kisses with ocean salt. One washed over Harry's back, wetting his head and changing the angle of his body pressed against her. She could feel his arousal now against her hip and she brushed her hand against him through his shorts.

He gasped into her ear and she took that as encouragement enough to do it again this time slipping her fingers underneath the soaked fabric of his waistband to find the velvet-soft hardness of him. The rough sound he made when she wrapped her fingers around him fully was reward enough for her boldness, stoking the ache in her core that was now becoming uncomfortable.

It was his turn to move his hips, helping her learn his body as he thrust himself into her hand, releasing hot panting breaths against her ear. He squirmed the rest of the way out of his shorts and she touched and teased him as the waves washed in and out.

His kisses were reckless now, desperate and uncontrolled. His hands were rougher, needier as they stroked her down low, continuing their unrelenting exploration until…

When his fingers brushed close to the center of her desire, pleasure streaked through her and she let out a throaty cry. He kept at it, rubbing and circling those sensitive scales until her slit opened for him and his fingers slid between the swollen folds.

Her breath caught and her hips rocked against him.

"Harry," she breathed his name, begging him for more of what he was giving her.

His voice was thick and hot in her ear. "Aye, lass?"

She heard herself moan, the sound so full of sensual hunger, she couldn't believe it had come from her own throat. He bit down on her shoulder almost reflexively at the sound as he continued to tease her into a frenzy, fingers stroking, hot breath at her neck.

Harry swung his legs over to straddle her then, adding even more pressure with his weight. His fingers sank deeper with the new angle and desire knifed through her trembling body. Her entire being was dominated by this all encompassing heat and it was impossible to think of anything besides his fingers inside of her. Then he was rolling his hips, rubbing himself against her, breathing sweet words into her ear and building that excruciatingly violent sensation of his touch until something snapped. The tension inside of her melted into liquid and she threw her head back, all of that pressure unravelling into spasms of pure release.

She let the pleasure carry her off for a while, convulsing against the slow caress of his hand, until she was left limp and breathless underneath him. Waves lapped over her as she slowly came back into herself, realizing that Harry was gazing reverently down at her.

She reached for him, pulling at his shoulders to bring him closer.

Feeling him resist, she resorted to words. They came more of a whisper, "I want to make you feel the way I just felt."

And he looked at her, searching for any reason to disagree, but she had chosen the words she knew would make him stop and think, and not argue. This was for her, not for him.

Besides that, it was pretty obvious by the look on his face, that her poor pirate was aching for her touch. So, she pulled him down to her for a long, meandering kiss as her fingers wrapped around him again. His sigh, and the way he seemed to melt down onto her made her insides buzz with a giddy kind of warmth.

She had no idea what she was doing, but he didn't seem to care at all. Because he was eager to show her, moving against her hand like he had earlier and this time she had the sense to marvel at each and every expression he made. Waves crashed over them as she kissed her favorite places on his jaw, the hollow on his shoulder, biting and teasing with her mouth as she tried to learn the way he liked to be touched.

It wasn't long until he taught her the rhythm of his body and his breaths came faster, more ragged. He leaned down close and she captured his mouth, kissing him fiercely as he thrust his hips into her hand faster and harder until she felt him tense, his muscles clenching in a whole-body shiver, and he collapsed down onto her.

His smothering weight pressing down on her and the thump of his heart pounding against her own chest was something she did not expect to feel so good. The other sensations he'd brought her were incredible, but this, this was a new kind of belonging. She'ddone this to him. She'd made him feel this way, made his heart thunder like this. And with that knowledge, she felt alive.

She wrapped her arms around him and lifted her gaze to the heavens, searching for that second star to the right, the one Harry reached for when he dreamed. And there, between two dimmer pinpricks of light, second to the right, she saw one shining down brighter than the others. As she stared at that star, its light filling all of the dark, lonely places inside of her, she finally appreciated just how much she had been missing before. How much more of everything she felt when she was with Harry.

"Is that it?" she asked, pointing up at the sky, at his star.

When Harry rolled his weight off of her, she whined a little bit, missing the protective comfort of his body over her.

"Whattya mean 'is that it'?" he asked, sounding absolutely appalled by her question.

Oh seas, of course he couldn't see that she'd been pointing. He had no idea what she'd been thinking about as she lay underneath him and that she'd been talking about his star.

"Oh no," she said, unable to keep the amusement from her voice. "I didn't mean…"

She laughed then, the sound bubbling from inside of her. When he stiffened, she tried to stop the giggles long enough to explain. "Harry, that was incredible. You were incredible and I've never felt like this before."

He was stark naked, lying beside her, brows twisted as he tried to reconcile this new information with what she'd just said earlier.

"I was looking up at the sky," she explained. "Just thinking about how amazing that was and how good you make me feel, and I thought I saw the star. The second star to the right. I was asking you if that was the one," she said, now pointing up at the sky where he could see. "I asked you, 'Is that it'?"

He buried his face in a hand. "Och, lass. I thought yeh were disappointed with…"

Then he laughed, too, sliding his arm underneath her to gather her into his arms and draw her close again. He followed her finger to where she pointed now, at the star shimmering down at them from far above. And as they fixed their eyes on that star, its light even seemed to flicker a bit, acknowledging their attention.

"Could be," he said. "It sure is winkin' for us, eh? Like it's got some kind of secret."

She brought her eyes from their star, down to Harry, covered in sand, wet hair stuck to his face and skin starting to look water-logged, and she buried her smiling face in the crook of his neck. A tingling warmth now radiated from her chest down to her fingers and toes. Her heart actually seemed to ache from how much affection she felt for him in this moment.

He brushed a kiss against her wet hair. "Fancy a swim?" he said. "Got yeh little messy there, let me rinse yeh off."

And he was so matter of fact about it all, acting like this was all just so natural that she was surprised to find she felt no embarrassment at all. About any of it.

He pushed himself up and waded deeper, then turned back to face her, raising the corner of his lip into a smirk before tugging playfully on her fin to drag her deeper into the water.

She squealed and flipped him away. They splashed around a bit before finally making their way into the deeper water.

Once the ocean was up to his chest, he pulled her close with her back to him and rinsed her off, cupping the water and letting it run over her skin until she was clean. Then he helped her slip on her bikini top again, his fingers gentle and deft with the tie at her back.

She let her eyes close as he continued holding her there, half submerged, resting with her back against his bare chest.

"I never imagined just touching you could be so much fun," she said, turning her head over her shoulder to try to see his expression.

"That's the most fun I've ever had meself, so I think it's all to do with the right person." He bit down on her neck playfully before spinning her to face him.

"Do me a favor?" she asked.

"Anything."

"Lift me up, I want my feet back but I don't want to get my clothes wet when I change."

He laughed at that. "Yeh just knifed a man tonight, then rolled around in the sand with me, but you dinnae want to get yer pants wet?" He shook his head, his smile lighting up the night. "Still a princess in there somewhere, eh lass?"

"Somewhere," she agreed.

But he obeyed, lifting her up out of the water and carrying her out of the sea. And she clung to his neck, just because it felt good to let him hold her, to let him take care of her.

And only when the locket's magic had brought the return of her own two legs, did Harry set her down gently on the dry sand. She was now fully clothed, staring at a very wet and very naked Harry Hook.

"Now, what say we pop open that pixie dust and see what it can do," Harry said, completely unconcerned about the imbalance in their current state of dress.

It was only when he glimpsed the little smile pulling at her cheek that he looked down at himself. "Though, maybe yeh can help me find me knickers first, eh?"