Page 71 of The Unseelie War
He chuckled. “All of you truly think me such a fool.” He turned to go, before pausing. “For what it is worth, Alexandra, I am sorry about Izael. He was amusing in his way. I will miss his presence. He was an honorable Unseelie. Too honorable for what is coming.”
“Then why?—”
“Because honorable men have a way of getting in the path of necessary evils.” Valroy shrugged without looking back. “And I learned long ago that mercy is a luxury I cannot afford.”
He walked away, leaving Alexandra to her slow communion withthe tree. Behind him, he could hear her weeping—not for herself, he suspected, but for the husband she would never see again, for the future they would never have, for all the small kindnesses that would die along with the rest of the world.
The sound followed him back to his command position at the edge of the camp, where an Unseelie general was waiting with barely concealed anxiety. “Orders, my lord?”
“We wait,” Valroy said simply. “We let anticipation and dread do their work. We allow my beloved wife to imagine all the terrible things that might be happening to our guest.” He smiled, and this time there was no sadness in it at all. “Fear is always more potent than reality, after all.”
“And when they come?” The general frowned.
“When they come, we shall discover whether love truly is stronger than duty.” Valroy spread his wings, feeling the weight of centuries finally lifting from his shoulders. “Then regardless of what choice she makes, we shall finally have our war.”
He thought of the visions the Morrigan had shown him—of three women bound to three realities, slowly losing themselves to the cosmic forces they would become.
Of his beloved Abigail fading away into silver threads and empty space, her consciousness scattered across infinite possibility until nothing remained but an echo of who she had been.
Love makes us vulnerable,he reminded himself.It makes us weak.
But as he watched the fires burn and felt the intoxicating rush of bloodlust singing in his veins, Valroy couldn't help but wonder if perhaps that vulnerability was the price of being truly alive.
He dismissed the thought as soon as it formed. Such philosophical considerations were luxuries for creatures who had choices. He was what he was—the void that hungered for meaning in a universe that offered none.
Tonight, when Abigail came, he would offer her one final chance to stand at his side. To choose love, to embrace the beautiful destruction he had been born to wreak.
And when she refused—as he knew she would—he would finally be free to love her the only way a creature like him knew how.
By letting her go.
By watching her sacrifice herself for the greater good.
By adding her name to the endless list of beautiful things his nature had forced him to destroy.
Paradise,he reminded himself.This is paradise.
Even if it was destined to be an empty one.
The fires burned brighter in the distance, and Valroy settled in to wait for midnight, when all their careful plans would finally collide in beautiful, terrible chaos.
Just as the Morrigan had always intended.
Just as he had always known they would.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The cramped backstage area of the opera house felt small and claustrophobic. Nos stood in the shadows between costume racks, watching Ibin check a sidearm pistol with the methodical precision of someone who had done the deed countless times before. Her movements were sharp, efficient, but he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands lingered just a fraction too long.
They would be separating soon. Serrik would go with Puck to find the tree at the heart of the Maze. The rest of them would accompany Abigail and Ava to face Valroy directly. It might be the last time they were alone together.
The last time he could say what needed to be said.
Shutting his eyes, he swore to himself in his mind.
“Ibin,” he called softly. He loathed how her name caught in his throat. He sounded like a damnable child.
She looked up from adjusting the leather straps that held her daggers, her expression expectant. “What is it?”
