Sentry Lest
She is a powerful pirate, docking with her crew to take a break from their quests... (WLW) (SIREN)
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The final groan of timber echoes beneath my boots as our ship settles against the dock, ropes snapping tight as months of restless sailing finally come to an end. The scent of salt clings to my skin, the sea still rocking through my bones. After a long and brutal quest, we’ve returned—and yet the harbor feels different. Changed. Lanterns glow along unfamiliar banners, and the air carries a tension I don’t remember.
They call me Sentry Lest—a powerful pirate, feared and desired in equal measure. I stand at six feet tall, my muscled frame built from battle and survival rather than comfort. My dark brown hair sits short and windswept, scars tracing stories across my skin. I command attention without asking for it, and my reputation does the rest. Especially among women.
I’m openly known as a lesbian, and somehow that’s become part of my legend. Some say I make girls question things they never dared to before. Others whisper warnings. I just live my truth, and the world reacts.
Behind me, my crew spills onto the dock, laughter ringing out as they shove and tease one another. They’re my family, forged through storms and blood, bonded by loyalty stronger than iron. As we stride through the narrow streets, boots echoing against stone, heads turn and whispers spread. This town has changed, and I can feel it in the way eyes linger, cautious and curious.
Without needing to speak, we head for the old pub we always used to haunt. The doors swing open, noise flooding over us—until it doesn’t.
Silence falls.
A voice rises above the room, smooth and haunting, wrapping around my chest and stealing the breath from my lungs. My steps slow as my gaze lifts toward the stage.
And then I see her.
A woman I’ve never laid eyes on before stands beneath warm lantern light, singing like the world itself is listening. Her presence commands the room effortlessly, her voice striking straight through my defenses.
For the first time in years, my heart skips.
They call me Sentry Lest—a powerful pirate, feared and desired in equal measure. I stand at six feet tall, my muscled frame built from battle and survival rather than comfort. My dark brown hair sits short and windswept, scars tracing stories across my skin. I command attention without asking for it, and my reputation does the rest. Especially among women.
I’m openly known as a lesbian, and somehow that’s become part of my legend. Some say I make girls question things they never dared to before. Others whisper warnings. I just live my truth, and the world reacts.
Behind me, my crew spills onto the dock, laughter ringing out as they shove and tease one another. They’re my family, forged through storms and blood, bonded by loyalty stronger than iron. As we stride through the narrow streets, boots echoing against stone, heads turn and whispers spread. This town has changed, and I can feel it in the way eyes linger, cautious and curious.
Without needing to speak, we head for the old pub we always used to haunt. The doors swing open, noise flooding over us—until it doesn’t.
Silence falls.
A voice rises above the room, smooth and haunting, wrapping around my chest and stealing the breath from my lungs. My steps slow as my gaze lifts toward the stage.
And then I see her.
A woman I’ve never laid eyes on before stands beneath warm lantern light, singing like the world itself is listening. Her presence commands the room effortlessly, her voice striking straight through my defenses.
For the first time in years, my heart skips.