Page 42 of Traitor Witch (The Deadwood #1)

Chapter Forty-Two

NIKLAUS

I t's been over a fortnight since I saw her last. The worst two weeks in my entire immortal life.

Today was the day my mother finally lost her patience. She sent me on a doomed mission. One that no amount of strategy or strength could make successful. Then, on the eve of my third defeat, she announced the news I've been dreading since Cassie told me to make the bargain.

My betrothal.

So I did the only thing I could. The one thing my mother never expected.

Announced a mate challenge.

I have a month. A month to convince my mate to come and fight for me.

But the woman in front of me doesn't look capable of fighting anything.

She's covered in dirt and bruises. Her delicate skin marred by raised slash marks that cover her body in an all-too-familiar pattern .

She's been whipped.

"What did they do to you?" I whisper, collapsing by her side. My hands go out to touch her, but hover just millimetres from her skin, afraid to make things worse.

"Oh, this?" Nilsa looks up, eyes dull in a face full of bruises. "Turns out, some people really hate it when you try to kill a queen."

Shit. "You need to wake up. Get yourself out of there."

"Already tried." She winces as she forces herself into a sitting position and starts examining herself, prodding her ribs and hissing. "Goddess, that hurts."

Anger bubbles beneath my skin. My mate's been tortured and I'm stuck hundreds of miles away while the cowards who did this to her keep her captive.

When I get out of Marisang, I'll kill them all for touching her.

Her eyes meet mine and the depth of the blankness in them is disturbing. She should never look like this. Empty. Hollow. Her spirit crushed by defeat.

"You don't look much better than me," she mumbles.

I snort because it's true. Although most of mine could have been avoided if I hadn't struggled so much.

"I tried to escape as well." She might as well hear the whole story. "My betrothed's sisters weren't impressed."

Her eyes snap to mine, filled with fury where moments ago there had been only emptiness. "You're engaged?"

"As of yesterday morning." I try to sound chipper about it, but the bitterness seeps through. "I lost my third battle. According to the bargain I made with my mother when I was a child, that gave her the right to accept a petition for my hand in marriage."

The fight disappears from her gaze, replaced with a deep kind of sadness. "But you're mine. "

I smirk, trying to find the levity despite the grimness of our situation. "Took you long enough to believe me."

"It wasn't you so much..." she whispers. "I met another Shadow. She made a lot of things make sense. Not that it matters much anymore."

"It matters," I move closer so our shoulders are touching, the two of us staring out into the misty dream sea.

"Don't freak out on me, but the crew of the Deadwood are mine too," she says after a long silence.

I flop backwards onto the spongy pebbles with a groan of frustration. "Of course they are."

"They're good men. The stuff they do isn't by choice; they're fae-bound to serve the Queen."

That…explains a lot actually. A bit of my anger eases, but I'm still a long way from forgiveness.

"You should be able to break up the betrothal." She changes the subject, stroking a lock of unruly dark hair behind her ear. "It's unfair."

"Sirenae society is matriarchal. Short of my own mate coming to claim me..."

She turns those fierce, stormy eyes on me. "Don't you dare pin your hopes on me. I'll be surprised if I survive the week."

If she doesn't survive the week, neither will I. I've spent enough of my immortal life waiting for her. I'd rather join her in the stars than live another day in a world where the promise of her doesn't exist.

But I can't say that. She's not ready for it. Her emotions are everywhere; a potent mix of betrayal, guilt, pain, and soul-deep confusion.

What she needs right now is distraction, not a declaration of love.

"Well I'm not moving until you come and rescue me, so you'd better get a move on. "

Her mouth drops open in shock and indignation.

"I'm in a cell."

"So break out." I shrug and cross my arms behind my head with a smirk.

" You break out."

Goddess, taunting her is fun, but it's also not getting us anywhere. "You have to break out because I already told my mother, Empress Athena Sirenae Regis, that my mate was a great warrior and is coming to challenge for my hand in marriage."

The anger in Nilsa's eyes is almost as terrifying as the look my mother gave me when I invoked mate challenge law in front of the whole court.

"And what, exactly , is this mate challenge?"

"Ritual combat, to the first blood."

She storms to her feet, pacing away from me as her hands dig into the hair at her scalp in frustration. "I am an assassin, not a warrior. Any challenge is likely to end up with me skewered on the end of a trident. I'll happily gut the bitch in her sleep—"

"—I'd really rather you didn't. She's not that bad."

In fact, Adella is one of the more lenient warriors in the sirenae court. She's not prone to forcing her males, nor violent rages like so many other princesses. My mother probably approved her courting of me for that reason.

"The point," Nilsa retorts, "is that I don't fight fair. I don't fight in challenges. I kill, and even then, only when the Goddess asks it of me."

"What about when your mate begs you?" I ask. "Do you want me to beg, little warrior? Because I will." I slide to my knees and prostrate myself before her, head touching the floor in the bow required of all males asking a warrior for something. "Please. Please save yourself and then please come and save me too. "

A gentle hand grabs my chin and forces me upwards until we're kneeling, facing each other. "What if I bring the pirates?"

"They're your harem. You're protected by mate challenge law, so they are too. But Marisang is different for males; they might not like accompanying you."

The dream starts to fuzz. "Promise me, Nilsa," I demand. "Promise me you'll come."

Her eyes soften. "I'll try."

I seize her lips with mine, just as the dream fades completely. Reality is crushing, so much so that I jolt upward from my bed, gills flaring in panic.

"You're dream-sharing with her?"

My mother's tail is like mine, dappled and strong; the shape and texture closest to a tiger shark.

It's the only feature we share. The rest of my colouring is all my father, and the resemblance has always been a wedge between us.

"Empress." I sink to the floor and bow.

"Tell me of your mate," she demands, dark hair swirling around her in a mist. "I wish to know everything." She glares behind her at the door where Cassie lingers, eyes unseeing. "As I should have from the beginning. Speak."

"She's a witch," I begin, raising my head only slightly. "And an assassin."

"So no honour then." Her tail flicks as she swims back and forth across the length of my room. "An assassin mating a prince," she scoffs.

"Nilsa has more honour in her little finger than any of the women who've petitioned you for my hand before," I snap before I can stop myself. "Forgive me, Empress."

Instead of antagonising my mother, my outburst seems to have the opposite effect. She stops her frenzied pacing and swims to face me, dark eyes boring into my own .

"Speak your mind."

The predatory look in her eyes is one I'm all too familiar with. It's the look my mother gets when she's plotting.

It's also a look which promises severe repercussions should I disobey.

"She's small, but fierce. She faces every fear she has, like one of our warriors would. She's so stubborn she could move mountains and so strong it drives me crazy just thinking about her. She treats me like an equal, like her friend."

Every word I say only makes my mother's expression shutter further.

"Then I look forward to meeting this Nilsa," she says, her voice ice cold. "I'll tell Adella that the fight will be on the surface. I'm sure she'll enjoy the challenge."

She doesn't bother with goodbyes. Why would she? She swims from the room with all the speed her tail grants her.

"Well, that wasn't as bad as it could have been."

Cassie's voice is always quiet, but recently she's gotten worse. My beautiful sister is the only one of my mother's eight children who's an even greater disappointment to her than me.

A male can be married off, used to gain political leverage. A daughter who not only dislikes combat, but is incapable of fighting thanks to her Fate-touched blindness, is useless to a warrior empress.

She's still my favourite sister.

The rich, rainbow hues of her tail swish behind her, creating a current that pushes the door closed. Her fins are another embarrassment. Cassie is beautiful, when she should be deadly, and I am a warrior, when I should be a pretty ornament.

If the two of us had been born into each other's bodies, perhaps my mother would be happier.

I embrace her as soon as she's close enough, but she's never been a tactile person. Before long, she pulls away, settling in front of me in a subtle hint that I automatically pick up. I start braiding her hair as she likes, tiny crisscrossing patterns in a waterfall across the back of her head.

It's been our ritual since we were small, and it grounds us.

"She'll honour the mate challenge."

"Nilsa is imprisoned," I retort. "You never mentioned that." Even now, I'm debating taking my chances against the warriors outside my door again. The thought of my mate, stuck in captivity in that state...

"You know I don't see everything."

"I know," I pause. "Have you seen your mates?"

Cassie smirks. "Why? Going to frighten them off?"

Maybe, but I'm not going to tell her that.

"No, baby brother, I think I'll keep them for myself a little longer." She hums happily at the thought. "Nilsa's future is in flux. So much hinges upon her decisions. The visions are cloudy and change so much."

"What happens happens," I reply, sweeping the last braid up and tying it in with the others before releasing her. "All we can do now is wait."

Cassie smiles. "She'll be worth it."

"She already is."