Page 17 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Seventeen

NIKLAUS

W hen I close my eyes I don't expect to accidentally fall into a mating dream. Despite searching for her in my sleep for almost a week, the familiar beach I created for her isn't a welcome sight tonight.

I don't want her to see me like this.

I limped home from the battle, reported my defeat to my matriarch, and collapsed on my bed without even bothering to clean up. I'm still wearing the blood of warriors who fell under my command, and I'm pretty sure there's seaweed in my hair.

I'm wearing nothing more than the white loincloth that allows me to shift to my sirenae form unhindered.

It's pure luck that my subconscious mind remembered to bring us to a dream-plane above the waves.

Hardly the way to woo a female.

But I'm going to have to work with what I've got. At least the Goddesses blessed me in more ways than one and I shift to make sure she can't miss what I'm offering as she stands awkwardly a few feet away.

"Hello, beautiful, I'm afraid you've caught me off guard."

She brushes a lock of her long, dark hair out of her face and surveys me with wary, but appreciative eyes.

Goddess, my mate's stunning. It makes everything I've done worth it, just seeing her.

Just like Cassandra said it would.

She's more naked than I am, but I know it makes her uncomfortable, so I take a hold of the fabric of the dream and fashion her one of my tunics to cover her before she can ask.

The next stage is hiding the dirt and blood which covers me and summoning platters of seafood for her, and a soft rug, covered in a small army of plush cushions to cover the pebble shore. I choose my spot on the opposite corner of the rug from her, then settle in to wait.

I'm never quite sure how she's going to react, and it infuriates and fascinates me in equal measure.

Not for the first time, I wish she was sirenae. Everything would be so much simpler if she just understood who I was and what we were facing.

My siren isn't helping matters. He's going to try to lure her at every turn until we're mated. Even now, his influence forces a seductive hum beneath my every word. A female sirenae wouldn't be affected, but a witch...

I have to fight my instincts every second, just so she doesn't think I'm trying to manipulate her.

That's the kind of complication I can't afford. If Cassandra's to be believed, I don't have long to make her care enough about me to enter the mate challenge. After today's disaster, I only have one defeat left...

The feeling of time slipping through my fingers is absolutely petrifying, but I keep it off my face by force of will alone.

Originally, I assumed I'd just seduce her. The first twenty-five years of my life had been filled with lessons on pleasing my future matriarch. Under the tutelage of the best instructors money could buy and with my freedom as the best motivator in the world, I stupidly assumed that winning over my mate would be simple.

But she's so much more complex than that.

"Dine with me?"

She's silent, but sits anyway, taking the food without resistance.

"I used sigils to ward the ship from psychic interference, from every magic I could think of. How are you still in my head?"

I shrug. "I don't know how witch magic works, but I can promise you, nothing can come between two halves of the same soul."

"Witches don't have mates," she repeats the same mantra and I seethe with frustration.

Why the Goddesses haven't blessed their daughters with the same soul-deep knowing that the rest of the supernaturals possess is beyond me, but it's damned inconvenient.

I would already lay down my life for her if she were in danger. But, to her, I'm a stranger she needs to ward against.

"But sirens do, little witch, and you're mine."

I will convince her of that, if nothing else.

She sighs and shoves another, imagined strand of hair from her eyes.

I frown as I notice the new marks adorning her arms.

"You have new tattoos?"

Shit, they're sexy.

She freezes, then looks down at the exotic symbols tracing a perfect line along the back of her arm and down to her wrist.

"New sigils," she says at last, her voice heavy. "A lot has changed."

That... doesn't sound good.

I move closer, shattering an invisible boundary as I shuffle so I'm sitting right next to her, so close our skin brushes.

"Want to talk about it?" My siren seeps into the words, lulling her, instinctively trying to give my mate comfort, no matter how much I try to hold him back.

She laughs, but it's a humourless sound. "I'm an exile. Covenless unless I find the person who killed my High Priestess. These pirates are harbouring me for now, but what happens when they discover I'm not a Solar?"

"You think they'd harm you?" I can't keep the anger from my voice.

"No," she whispers. "I don't think they're that kind of pirate."

"You're afraid of them?"

"I fear nothing."

I snort. "Everyone fears something, even warriors."

"Shadows don't."

"So that wasn't fear I saw on your face when we first met?"

I know it was, I still remember the feeling as though it were my own.

I doubt she'll appreciate learning about that particular quirk of siren matehood, so I bite my tongue. It won't really become an issue until we see each other in the flesh, anyway.

"Shut up," she mutters, blushing.

I just grin. "Make me." The retort is natural, instinctive. So much so that a little too much of my siren slips out and I know exactly what the effect will be before it happens .

Her pupils dilate, eyes darkening with arousal, and her lips part.

Shit.

"Nilsa, you don't want to—"

Her lips meet mine.

I'm lost.

The first brush of her soft lips on mine is like a lightning bolt straight to my brain, frying my common sense. My arms reach out of their own accord, dragging her into my lap as my mouth learns the shape of hers.

She's not shy. Her tongue flicks out first, teasing my lips.

I let her go on the offensive for a moment, then take over. My kiss is more seductive, less teasing. My hand winds into her silky hair and tugs lightly, pulling her head back.

Now I'm in control.

I can tease her right back. And I do.

Nilsa moans and switches tactics. Lapping at my tongue in maddening strokes that travel straight to my cock.

Goddess, this woman...

She breaks the contact, only for a second, then dives back in.

But that one breath of cold, dreamworld air is enough to remind me why she'll hate me if I do this.

I drag myself away, all but dumping her into the cushions as I strive to put distance between us.

"You don't want this!" I gasp. "It's just my siren."

Fuck. What am I doing? The point of these dreams is to seduce her. Not give myself blue balls.

Nilsa looks stunned for a second, lips still bruised from my kiss. Her eyes are a darker, stormy blue that I'll forever associate with her passion.

I've got to work fast to salvage this.

"As much as I want to fuck you senseless, I'd rather do it because you're lusting after the man, not the siren." I lean back on the cushions, trying to play it cool.

Nilsa visibly struggles to pull herself together, and I feel like an asshole. Rage, confusion, and even the tiniest bit of hurt, flashes across her heart. Each one a slap in the face. With an arctic impassiveness, she turns her eyes back to the food.

"That was your siren?" She's trying to sound calm, but her voice is still breathy and her hand shakes as she picks up a bunch of grapes.

I've lost a little of the trust I've been working so hard to gain.

"He's a little impulsive around his mate," I say. "What can I say, sweetheart? You excite me."

The endearment slips out, and Nilsa raises a brow in response.

I just smile. "So, now that you're not under the influence, want to keep making out with me?"

I'm not sure what shocks me more; the fact that she hasn't freaked out about having been seduced by a siren's voice or that she hesitates, considering my offer.

"No offence, Klaus, but I don't trust you."

It takes a lot of work not to let how much that hurts show on my face.

"That's alright, sweetheart, I've got the rest of the night to change your mind. You never know, dessert might be your undoing."

She relaxes slightly, which I take as a win. I almost lost her there, and there's no room for these kinds of mistakes.

I have so little time left.