Page 113 of Liar Witch
Casimir’s wolf-whistle cuts through the moment, shattering whatever moment they’re sharing.
Nilsa looks up, cheeks flushed with a combination of lust, embarrassment and alcohol.
He’s embarrassed her. I glare at the shifter and his unrepentant grin; but I know he was right to stop them.
Neither is ready for whatever might have happened were they to continue. Nilsa is drunk and making decisions like that now will only upset her in the morning.
The mating bond has got to be riding Valorean hard. Weeks of suppressed lust combined with alcohol is a lethal combination; one which Nilsa shouldn’t trigger while she’s off guard like this.
I stride forward, lifting her into my arms and away from the Captain in a smooth move, using the physical touch to brace myself for the pain which will follow.
“Bed.”
Agony races outwards from my mouth and throat, nearly driving me down to my knees. I grind my teeth and feel my muscles tense, but I refuse to let my hands tighten on her.
“Bring back our witch,” Casimir whoops, only to be elbowed for his trouble by Rysen.
“I’m not tired,” Nilsa objects, squirming.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I shake my head.
She might not be tired, but shehashad enough.
All of us saw the toll her trip to Fior had on her. Though we’ve never been beyond the front door, we all knew what we’ve been ferrying for decades. It isn’t hard to imagine how horrific such an operation would be.
Casimir’s idea has chased the worst of the nightmares in her eyes away, but now she needs to rest.
Not to mention, if she actually does manage to hex Valorean, I’d rather she were sober and prepared for whatever revenge will inevitably follow. I still can’t believe she got away with turning his hair pink so easily.
I kick open the hatch and pull the squirming witch down into the bowels of the ship. When we’re out of sight of the others and away from the music, she calms, snuggling into me with a tiny smile.
“You’re so bossy,” she complains.
I smirk. If only she knew. I’m practically reformed compared to how I was when I first left Faerie.
This close to her, the air around us drops to a semi-permanent chill. My power is freer around her. Slipping the constant leash I’ve kept it on for centuries at every opportunity. I feel like a child all over again, trying to control my errant powers for the first time, but it’s a small price to pay for meeting her.
It takes some doing, but I manage to get her door open without jostling her. I try my best to keep my strides even as I cross the room, heading straight for her bed.
I almost drop her when I feel the softest of butterfly touches across the bottom of my jaw.
“I wish you could talk,” she whispers, her words slurring together. “I spend so much time wondering what you’re thinking.”
I grind my teeth, resisting the urge to answer her.
“Would you trust you, if you were in my place? Would you take that leap?” The urge to nod is overwhelming, but I can’t do it.
I shake my head instead.
It’s not my choice. It’s certainly not something she should do because she’s drunk too much to understand the consequences.
A look of unfathomable sadness crosses her face as I gently deposit her on the bed. Our breath mists around us, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, she draws closer, eyes caught on my lips.
“My name—” she begins, but cuts off. Her eyes widen just the tiniest fraction.
Before I can figure out what she’s doing, her knife is whizzing past me.
I hear it thud into someone behind me and I whirl, drawing my sword.
