Page 58 of Traitor Witch
She grazes my side as she soars, landing behind me.
When I turn around, she’s grown from the size of a house-cat to a tiger. Her claws and teeth are buried in the chest of the scum who was creeping up behind us. She lifts her red-stained muzzle and roars her satisfaction in the kill.
There were over a dozen mercs in all, and now their corpses litter the ground.
Why send so many for one Solar witch? Who is our mate to warrant such caution?
A wisp of uncertainty tugs at my mind, Val’s words from earlier coming back to haunt me. I ignore them, shifting her weight in my arms.
It doesn’t matter who she was. Not when she’s mine now.
Our fight has drawn spectators, but another roar from the tiger-cat ensures the onlookers disappear as swiftly as they arrived. I check they really are gone before turning my attention to Kier, who’s wiping his blade down on his sleeve. The cat shrinks in on herself, going from tiger to tabby in five seconds, and leaps onto Kier’s shoulders the moment she’s returned to her normal size.
“We need to get our mate back to the ship,” I say, stroking a lock of hair away from her face. “She needs rest.”
Kier nods, his thin eyes tracing the motion of Nilsa’s chest. I can’t blame him, not when my ears are pricked for any sign of her heartbeat slowing or faltering.
She stirs in my arms as we get closer to the ship, her lashes fluttering against her too-pale cheekbones.
“Ry?” she whispers.
“I’m here.” Is it foolish that my new heartbeat skips at the nickname?
Probably.
Does it matter?
No.
“What are you doing here?”
“We came after you.” I see no reason to lie to her.
Her mouth parts prettily in shock. “Why?”
Everything in me wants to tell her she’s mine. Only Nos’s warning holds me back.
I glance back at Kier, but the fae just shrugs.
Oh right, fae can’t lie.
Nilsa’s brows are forming a cute little crease on her forehead, and the longer I take to answer her, the deeper it becomes.
“I want you on theDeadwood.” It’s the truth, if heavily edited.
That doesn’t stop her frowning, but it does stop her questions long enough for us to emerge onto the docks. This early in the morning, they’re already packed with activity, fishermen leaving to get their boats out on the open ocean. We draw plenty of stares as I lift my mate through the throng towards the pink-sailed nightmare that is theDeadwood.
Her petty revenge made me laugh when I first saw it, but seeing it now is sobering.
Valorean will still be mad and now is not the time for his pettiness.
The gangplank disappears the instant we get close.
“Let her on board,” I roar at the ship, knowing that Val is listening.
The figurehead, a skeleton with its arms shackled turns to regard us. The wooden cutlass clenched in its jaw disappears and the mouth opens.
“No.”
