Page 55 of The Unseelie War
Valroy dropped to the roof like a fallen angel, landing hard with athud.His wings spread wide, his eyes blazed with malevolent joy as they settled on his wife. “Hello, my beautiful Abigail, I have been looking everywhere for you…”
Why was it everything in her life seemed to keep going frombadtoworse?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Ava watched as Valroy settled onto the rooftop with all the grace of a hunting jungle cat, his massive wings folding behind him as he straightened to his full imposing height. Despite the chaos he'd been orchestrating across the city, despite the blood that still stained his clothes, his expression was almost…peaceful.
She wasn’t buying it for a motherfuckingsecond.
“Abigail,” he said, his voice carrying genuine affection. “I am truly happy to find you. I was worried about you.”
Ava felt Serrik tense behind her, could practically feel the spider’s rage. Around them, the others had gone still with the particular kind of alertness that came from being faced with a apex predator.
But Valroy made no aggressive moves. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and smiled—not the cruel, manic grin Ava had expected, but something almost…sad.
“I have not come here for a fight.” He shrugged. “Contrary to what you might think, I am not a fool. Even I cannot defeat you all at once. Not here, not now.” His blue eyes swept over their assembled group, cataloging threats with the efficiency of a military strategist. “The spider, the Weaver, my lovely Queen, and the Weaver’s bizarre collection of dreams. No, a direct assault would be utterly pointless.”
“Then why the fuck are you even here?” Ava demanded, though she had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.
“To make an offer,” Valroy replied, his attention shifting to his wife. “To speak with the woman I love. To ask her, once more, to stand at my side.”
Abigail's expression remained carefully neutral, but Ava could see the pain that flickered in her green eyes. “You know I cannot.”
“Cannot? Or will not?” Valroy took a step closer, and for a moment, the mask of casual indifference slipped. Raw, desperate need showed through—the hunger of someone who had spent centuries loving something they couldn't possess. “I offer you everything, Abigail. A chance to reshape these worlds according toourvision. No more hiding, no more careful political maneuvering, no more pretending that coexistence is possible.”
“Your vision,” Abigail corrected softly. “Not ours. It has never been ours. You would leave me a Queen in chains, ruling over a world of burnt ash you have left for me.”
The words visibly struck him. He winced, his shoulders sagged, and suddenly he looked every one of his years of age. “Yes. I would.” He was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the transformed cityscape. “You know, I told myself that when this moment came—when I finally had the freedom to act—you would understand.”
“I do understand. But that does not mean I agree. Killing innocents is not something I can be a party to.” She reached out and placed her hand on his arm tenderly. “And you know why.”
“Innocents.” He laughed, the sound bitter. “Still, you side with them. Is that what you call them? The species that has systematically destroyed every sacred grove, every place of power, every trace of magic they could find?”
“Not all of them?—”
“Enough of them.” Valroy's voice hardened. “And the rest? They would do the same, given the chance. They cannot help themselves,Abigail. It is their nature to destroy what they do not understand. You know this.”
Bitty, who had been hovering near the edge of the group, suddenly spoke up. “But you're destroying them for the same reason! Because you don't understand that some of them are good!”
Valroy's attention shifted to the tiny Seelie, and his expression, remarkably, softened. “Ah, the little powerless dream-creature. No, little one. I understand perfectly well that some humans are ‘good.’ But what you do not understand is that I simply do notcare.Their goodness is meaningless to me. They are nothing but meat to be devoured. Wood to be reduced to cinders.”
“You killed Izael.” Abigail said quietly. “For questioning the totality of your destruction. For questioning what would follow in your wake.”
“I killed Izael for betraying his oath. For choosing sentiment over duty. For caring more about some abstract future than the reality of what we face now.” His expression grew cold. “He questioned whether the Unseelie would have anything left to rule over when my war concluded. As if that mattered. As if our purpose was to build something rather than to tear down what should never have been allowed to exist.”
“And what about the Unseelie who served him?” Nos asked, his mismatched expression withdrawn drawn and careful. “What about those who might have agreed with his concerns?”
“They will learn to adapt.” Valroy shrugged idly. “Or they will join him in oblivion. I am not particularly concerned with which they choose.”
The casual dismissal of his own people's lives sent a chill through Ava. She’d been warned. But now she understood. “You really don't care, do you?” Lysander’s voice reflected Ava’s horrified realization. “About what happens after. About whether any of us survive this.”
“And why should I?” Valroy tilted his head, genuinely curious. “I was created for a purpose, cat. To be the void that swallows excess life, to be the entropy that erases cosmic mistakes. That purposedoesn't include ensuring anyone's happiness or survival.” His gaze fell pointedly on Abigail. “Not even my own. Or my Queen’s.”
Oh.Fuck.
Did heknow?
How could he?
