Page 119 of Traitor Witch

I nod.

"How has she gotten away with this? Someone has to know about it. The sirens must know. What is she even doing with them?"

"It is what it is," I whisper. "We cannot change the past."

Nilsa gives an angry huff, but she doesn't push me.

"We're nearly at Idos." I'm no good at changing topics, but my mate doesn't mind. "What will you do when you get there?"

"I have my duty." The sound of her voice drifts further away from me, until I think she must be directly in front of my bookshelves. "Avenge my High Priestess and then maybe they'll let me return home."

Goddess, the longing in that single word.

"You could find a new home."

She chuckles, but there's no humour in the sound. "Nos, don't pretend you don't know what I am. Places an assassin can call home are few and far between."

"Maybe a ship full of pirates is one of those places," I argue, pushing out of my seat. "You fit here."

She sighs, long and sad, but it's all the sound I need to pinpoint where she is. "No one else even knows who I really am."

"Then tell them. Most of them have guessed something is up. Goddess, I think Val would be relieved to know you're hiding something and he's not going mad."

"He'll hate me for it."

"Maybe at first," I acknowledge. "But Val only really hates mages, so he'll come around, eventually. He'll never admit it, but he likes arguing with you. Rysen will just be relieved that he doesn't have to be so terrified of hurting you anymore."

"It won't go down well."

"If you're so sure, tell them as you leave," I shrug. "If they hate you, you'll never have to come back, and if not, you'll know you're still welcome."

"Maybe I will."

"Before you go, I wanted to ask you something."

She instantly stiffens, her scent turning curious, but still wary.

"What is it?"

"Would you want to stay, if you could? If your duty and our secrets weren't an issue, would you choose to stay here? With us?"

Goddesses, what I wouldn't give to be able to read her facial expressions right now.

"Maybe." She draws the word out.

My hands hover awkwardly between us. I want to touch her so badly, but at the same time, I'm scared to do so.

But I can't live my life letting her think that I don't want her. Letting her believe that I want her any less than the others.

So I lift my hands, find her arms, and trace them up to her shoulders.

From there, it's pretty easy to lower my lips to meet hers.

It's not a sweet kiss; I need her too much.

I've wanted this for too long to go gently. Years of anticipation are unleashed on her at once. But Nilsa doesn't seem to mind. No. She gives as good as she takes. Hands finding my shoulders and holding on as she moans against me.

My tongue sweeps out, tasting her.