Page 46 of The Unseelie War
The thought echoed through his mind with wonder that bordered on disbelief. After seeing him in his true form, after experiencing the full extent of his inhuman nature, she had not fled. Had not recoiled. Had welcomed him with a surrender so complete it had nearly shattered what remained of his carefully constructed control.
She yawned, and curled against him, groaning quietly in protest.
“Are you…well?” The question escaped him before he could stop it, though he immediately cursed himself for the vulnerability it revealed. But the venom was fading from her system, and with it might come clarity—and with clarity, regret.
“Mmm.” She pressed her face against his chest, and he felt the warm puff of her breath against his skin. “Better than well.”
Relief flooded through him so intensely it left him momentarily light-headed. His muscles relaxed beneath her touch. One of his spider legs moved of its own accord to brush a strand of hair from her face, the gesture so gentle it surprised even him. “I was afraid that when the venom faded, you might…”
The fear had been eating at him even in the midst of their joining—that she would wake from the chemical haze and see him for the monster he truly was. That horror would replace the wonder in her eyes.
“Regret it?” She lifted her head, and he found himself lost in those gray-green eyes that held no trace of revulsion or fear. “No. Never.”
Never.“You remember everything?” He had to know. Had to be certain that her acceptance was real and not some lingering effect of his poison.
“Everything.” She grunted and put her head back down. But the weight she put behind the word told him she understood what she was acknowledging—not just the physical intimacy, but the complete surrender of control, the trust she had placed in a creature that could have destroyed her without thought. “And I'm glad I do. Well. To be clear. I remember everything up until the end when things got…really intense.But that’s not my fault.”
A shudder ran through his entire form at her words. How was it possible that this small woman could undo him so completely with simple honesty? “You continue to amaze me, little Weaver. After everything I am, everything I've done…”
“You love me.” She shut her eyes. “And I love you. The rest is just details. Sexy, weird, kinky details.”
Details. She called his monstrous nature—the thing that had driven even immortals to madness—details.The laugh that escaped him was incredulous, almost broken with relief he hadn't known he needed.
“Details,” he repeated. “You call my monstrous nature ‘details.’”
“I saidsexy weird kinky details.” Her small hand traced one of his golden tattoos, the touch sending electricity through his nervous system. “It's just…different. Okay, it’s monstrous, but not in a bad way. Not to me.”
Not to me.
In all his centuries of existence, no one had ever said those words to him. No one had looked upon his true form and seen anything but a nightmare. Even the Morrigan, his own creator, had regarded him as a necessary evil at best.
But Ava…Ava saw him as simply himself. Worthy of love despite his nature. Perhaps even because of it.
They lay in comfortable silence. Through his multiple eyes, he watched her with fascination, noting how relaxed she was in his web, how naturally she curved against his inhuman form. Her breathing had steadied, but she showed no inclination to flee his embrace.
“We should probably…” she began, then let the words trail off.
“Yes.” The outside world existed beyond this room, with its complications and demands. But for now, suspended in golden threads with the woman who had seen his darkest nature and chosen love anyway, he was content to let time stand still.
“Will you change back?” she asked, her fingers still tracing patterns on his skin that made him want to purr like some great cat.
The question gave him pause. His human glamour was so automatic, so ingrained, that he rarely considered it a choice anymore. But here, now, with her? “Do you wish me to?”
She was quiet for a long moment, and he found himself holding his breath as she considered. When she finally spoke, her words sent warmth spiraling through his chest. “It’s entirely up to you. It’s whatever makes you more comfortable. Honestly? I think I prefer you like this. I like seeing all of you at once.”
All of you.Not just the palatable human facade, but every monstrous, alien inch of his true self. The golden stump of his missing leg, the predatory arrangement of his eyes, the fur-covered bulk of his spider body—she wanted to remember all of it.
“You are remarkable,” he said, the words barely adequate for what he felt.
“So are you.” Her smile was radiant as she looked up at him. “My beautiful, terrifying, impossible spider.”
The possessive growl that rumbled through his chest was entirely involuntary, drawn from depths of his nature that had little to do with civilization. The sound made her laugh—not with fear, but with delight—and he knew with absolute certainty that he would do anything to hear that sound again.
A distant noise from the hallway beyond finally intruded on theirsanctuary—voices, footsteps, the reminder that they were not alone in the world.
“The circus calls,” Ava murmured with obvious regret.
“Indeed.” His threads began to shift, lowering them gently toward the floor with reluctance that surprised him. For centuries, he had craved freedom from his prison, but now he found himself reluctant to leave this smaller cage of golden silk and shared intimacy. “Though I find myself increasingly reluctant to share you with the rest of the world.”
