Page 67 of The Unseelie War
“I’m not asking you to do anything,” she said, though the words felt hollow even to her. “You'll have your own mission. The tree?—”
“The tree that Valroy will defend with every ounce of his considerable power. Yes, I'm aware.” Serrik's smile was sharp and self-deprecating. “The act of destroying it will tear me apart in the process.”
“We…we have no one else.” She clung to the front of his esoteric, dated suit. “I don’t want it to be you! I want you there with me. I want you to stay with me and help me, not…”
“It would give me nothing but joy to tear him to pieces. But I do not wish to leave you.” His shoulders sagged. “Yet how can I if I refuse? What would you say if I tell you that I would rather watch the worlds burn than lose you to this slow death?”
“Then you'd be lying. Because you won’t let Valroy win. Because I know you well enough to know that you won’t let him destroyeverything,even if it means losing me.” She sighed. “Because you’re an asshole. But he’s a bigger one.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Serrik stood with his back to her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. “If, by some means, I survive this—but your soul is damaged in any way and I—” Rage, pure and unfiltered, flashed across his features. “I will destroy themall.”
She was so exhausted. “I don’t think I’m going to give a fuck. I don’t even know if you’ll have abodyafter this. You’re all dream-constructs. I don’t think we’ve figured out the physics of this.”
Grimacing, he let out a ragged sigh. Pulling her close into an embrace, he held her. “It is not a true concern. I will not survive. I was not designed for a frontal assault in such a manner. Valroy is not likely to allow me to simply walk up to his very heart and destroy it. The moment I reveal myself, he'll throw everything he has at me.”
“We just need to give you enough time…”
Serrik kissed the top of her head. “And do you not worry about facing him when he realizes what you're attempting? Valroy in his fury is not something I would wish upon anyone, least of all?—”
“We’ll manage," she interrupted. “Somehow. We have to.”
“Ava.” His voice carried a note of desperate pleading that she'd never heard from him before. “Promise me you willtry.”
“I promise.” They were hollow words. Gently parting from him, she picked up Book from the table, feeling its weight like a physical manifestation of her fate. “The Morrigan showed me everything. Every possible outcome, every alternative path. This is the only way that doesn't end with universal extinction.”
He snarled. “I am beginning to consider that perhaps we should let themallburn for what they have done to us.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than she'd intended. “Don't you dare. Don't you dare suggest that because we’ve been denied our happiness, everyone in all of existence deserves to get fucked for it.”
Serrik closed his eyes, his carefully constructed composure finally beginning to crack. “I know. I know you're right. I simply…” He opened his eyes again, and she could see the full depth of his anguish there. “I wish I could stay by your side. Protect you. Face whatever comes together instead of sending you into danger alone.”
“I won't be alone.” The words felt like ash in her mouth. “Abigail will be there. And the others?—”
“Abigail will have her own battle to fight. And the others, precious as they are, cannot stand against something like Valroy. Brace yourself for being forced to watch them all die.” Serrik moved closer again, his hands hovering just above her arms as if afraid to touch her. “There will come a time when he will have you alone, attempting to perform a ritual that will tear reality apart and rebuild it. And I will be potentially miles away, unable to help, unable to protect you.”
“You'll be exactly where you need to be,” Ava said firmly. “Giving me the chance to do what needs to be done.”
“And if something goes wrong? If the ritual fails, if Valroy overwhelms you before you can complete it?” His voice was growing more strained with each word. “I will not even know. I will die not knowing. And if I fail, and the realities split, he will still be alive and unstoppable. We have no other plan.”
“You could never fail me,” Ava said, finally reaching out to touch his face. “Even if this all goes to hell, even if we both die tonight—you couldneverfail me. You've given me more in these few days than I ever thought I'd have in an entire lifetime.”
Serrik leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as if memorizing the sensation. “I love you,” he said simply. “I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my entire existence. More than my own life, more than my freedom, more than my revenge…and…I love you enough to do this for you.” He sneered. “Though I hate myself for it.”
“That's what makes you worth loving, you beautiful, impossible spider. That's what makes you my hero instead of the monster you've spent so long believing yourself to be.”
Serrik's composure finally shattered completely. His arms came around her, pulling her against his chest with desperate intensity. She could feel him trembling, could hear the careful control in his breathing as he fought against the grief threatening to overwhelm him.
“I am not ready to say goodbye,” he whispered against her hair.
“Neither am I.” Ava buried her face against his shoulder, breathing in his scent—forest and citrus and that indefinable something that was purelyhim.“I’m not ready for any of this. I'm not ready to watch Abigail fade away or to lose myself piece by piece. I'm not ready to send you into a fight you might not survive.”
“But we shall do it anyway.”
“Yeah. We do it anyway.” She clung to him. They held each other in silence for a long moment, both trying to memorize the feel of being together, whole and safe and loved. Outside, she knew the others were likely whispering and preparing for war, fretting and terrified for what was to come.
But here, in this small room, there was only them. Only this moment of peace before the storm.
“I have something for you,” Serrik said eventually, pulling back slightly. He reached into his coat and withdrew something thatgleamed golden in the dim light—a single thread, braided into a bracelet that caught the light like spun sunlight. She could make out words woven into it, careful details of the First Language.
