Page 50 of Pirate Witch

Hardly mature, I know. But our relationship has existed in this kind of no-mans-land since that kiss on Safor, and I don’t know what to do about it.

It’s not like my life—tied to a ship since I was a kid—has really left me many opportunities for relationships, let alone dating.

I did my fair share of fucking with the whores Cirio used to bring aboard before I settled into my immortality in my early thirties and the impotence kicked in. That was nothing like this.

They came onto my ship looking to fuck my brains out, and I let them. It was that simple.

Intentionally trying to get to know a woman—while still trying to come to terms with the fact that she’s my fated mate—is comparatively impossible.

Now we’re eating in silence. Both of us are lost in thought.

I should be using this quiet time, when she’s not surrounded by the others, to try to fix all the shit I caused, but instead all I can focus on is how distracted and confused she looks.

“What’s wrong?” I mean it to be a question, but it comes out as a demand.

Nilsa glares at me. “Nothing.”

“You’re staring at the plate like it’s done something to offend you.”

She mutters something that sounds almost like “it shouldn’t be a plate.”

Unless she’s losing control of her magic, that should be impossible. And witches can’t lose control of their magic because—unlike mages—they don’t house their power source inside them. Nilsa draws power directly from the Moon, and the strength of a witch is determined by their connection to their Goddess.

The downcast look on her face is making me uncomfortable in a way I don’t want to examine too closely.

“Elsie did say your energy levels were all over the place,” I mutter. “We’ll get her to check you over when she wakes up.”

Instead of being reassuring, my words seem to have the opposite effect. Nilsa bites her lower lip and lowers her sandwich back to the plate.

“What happened to her and Reva?” she asks.

I frown. How does she know anything happened at all? She couldn’t see.

I open my mouth to question her, think better of it, and then close it again. Floundering once more, I push the sandwich back at her. “Rysen will get cranky if you haven’t eaten.”

She rolls her eyes again but takes the sandwich back, anyway. “I’ll eat if you explain what happened.”

I run another hand through my hair and groan. “I’m not a witch, so I don’t know,” I admit. “But one minute your friends were there, chanting over their bowl, the next I’m waking up and their hair and eyes have changed colour.”

Nilsa blinks slowly, then shakes her head. “Did Reva’s eyes go silver and Elsie’s gold?”

“Yes, and their hair did too. They glow and shit now.”

“That’s not possible,” she whispers.

She’s still not eating.

“I answered a question, so eat.”

Her eyes gleam, but she takes a bite, anyway. “Are you trading answers for food?”

“I’m a pirate. I don’t trade, I take what I want.” I grind my teeth as I realise that approach isn’t going to work here. “But I suppose I can make an exception... for now. Ask your questions and I’ll answer as long as you finish your food.”

She takes a slow bite, deliberating. “That cabin isn’t one I’ve seen before…”

“That isn’t a question.”

“When did you make it, and why?”