Page 53 of Liar Witch

Nilsa sighs and puts her bowl on the floor before pushing up so she’s standing. “You’re better now. You said it yourself, our bond helps you.”

She moves closer and closer to the cell and I watch as Rysen tenses a little more with each step she takes. But still, there’s no red in his irises. No fangs. He’s still very much himself.

Perhaps I’m falling into the same naïve, hopeful trap as she has, but even I have to admit that Nilsa might be right.

When she’s within touching distance of the cell, she stops.

“You’re still not attacking the bars,” she notes, her voice soft. “I trust you, Ry. Trust yourself for once.”

I don’t notice the knife until it’s too late. She scores the end of her thumb and her blood permeates the air around us.

Rysen’s eyes flash scarlet, but he doesn’t move. I’m not certain, but it looks like he’s even trying not to breathe.

His fangs drop a second later, but he’s still stationary in the middle of his cell.

I slip around the witch until I’m out of her sight, then drop my glamour. Rysen catches sight of me immediately, and I press my finger to my grinning lips in warning.

If he can take his eyes off her blood, he’s not in bloodlust.

I wait for the realisation to hit him and then, just to drive Nilsa’s point home, I take a small blade from my own belt and dig it into my own palm. Deep enough to draw blood, but shallow enough that the wound will be gone in minutes.

His nostrils flare, but his eyes remain glued to my face before flicking back to Nilsa’s, and then to his own hands, as if checking for the claws which aren’t there.

“I’m not in bloodlust,” he whispers, almost to himself.

“Finally.” Nilsa’s smile has crept into her voice. “Can I please let you out now? I’d rather not have to sleep in here.”

Rysen looks at me, and I nod once, still smiling, before heading for the door. It swings closed behind me just as I hear the click of the key in the lock.

I’m so glad for him that my heart hurts as I make my way out to the deck before letting my wings carry me up to my favourite spot on the ship; the crows nest. After hundreds of years of suffering, Rysen’s mate bond to Nilsa has gifted him the peace he craves.

There’s still a chance that he’ll regress if provoked, but between Nilsa and I, I’m certain we can pull him back from the brink.

Perhaps, if Nilsa can help Rysen, there’s even a chance for the rest of us. That wistful thought plays in my mind as I gaze across the horizon at the rising Moon, wondering what our crew of misfits did to make the Goddess of Death take pity on us.

Chapter Fourteen

Casimir

Val’s shout from above us has me out of my seat and bolting for the deck.

I get there before the others, so I have an uninterrupted view of the five women standing in an arrow formation. All of them glaring at the captain. Their eyes are as stormy as the sea and their left arms are covered in the warrior tattoos that denote their lineages and accomplishments.

Their armour is cut to show the marks to their greatest advantage. Their moulded bronze and steel breastplates are decorated with chains which link them to the armoured skirts across the pierced flesh of their abdomen. Their legs are undefended, their feet bare on the wooden deck, so they can transform whenever they like.

Each of them clutches a wicked trident in one hand, a bronze round shield in the other.

Sirens.

The warrior in the front has dark hair, slicked to her face by the water that still drips from her deep golden skin. Her crown is made of more bronze, carved to look like shark fins.

Her eyes are pure steel as she stares us down.

“I am the Princess Alexandra, daughter of the Great Empress Athena, ruler of the Ice Sea of the North. May the witch who lays mate claim to my brother come forth.”

Nilsa pushes her way through the hatch, followed by an irate Noster.

Rysen hisses under his breath, but says nothing as our Lunar strides forward with all the swagger of the warrior she is. She’s wearing just as little as the sirens are, the two strikingly similar yet completely alien.