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CHAPTER TWELVE

I t was an odd sensation.

Knowing you were dreaming but dreaming of nothing.

Of being in a great emptiness of sleep, but becoming aware of it.

She must have fallen asleep without meaning to.

Ava wondered if that was what those sensory deprivation chambers were like. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t comfortable or uncomfortable. It simply was, and wasn’t, all at once.

But it was in that simple state of being that she felt his presence.

Serrik.

There were no words spoken. Only the impression of emotions. It was as though he were standing on the other side of a door from her. Reaching out—inquiring. But…hesitant.

This was not her doing. Whatever barrier was there was not because she had placed it. This was all him, but why?

An outstretched hand. An offer to join him.

A question.

But there was sadness there. It was too much to call the feeling regret.

Loneliness ?

Every other time she had joined him in dreams, it had just happened. Either by his doing or hers, without realizing it. Why the question now? Why the pause?

She knew she could snap the connection. Sink back into sleep. Turn away from him and leave that silent call unanswered.

But damn it all to hell, she didn’t want to.

Part of her wanted to know why he was…mournful. Why he was suddenly asking permission. And part of her knew they needed some kind of closure—some kind of interaction after how they had left things.

Ignoring him would only prolong the inevitable. It was a coward’s way out. She’d have to face him eventually. Now or later, it didn’t matter. And Ava might be a whole lot of things—useless, profane, kind of an idiot when it came to making life choices—but she wasn’t a chicken.

Steeling herself for what was to come, she…

answered. Opened the door. And all at once, his library came into focus around her.

It spread into reality as though it were filling in like a painting, first the shapes, then the light, all in blacks and whites and blurry shadows, and then the colors—washed out and then slowly more vibrant.

She’d never seen it come to life like that.

She’d always been unaware of it before. Now that she saw it, it gave her more of an appreciation for how different the dreamscape really was from the waking world.

How much more like a watercolor or oil painting it truly was than the tangible space of reality.

Man, if sex with Serrik was that intense in a dream…imagine what it’d be like in ? —

She slammed the door shut on those thoughts. And then opened the door, put the head of those thoughts into the door jamb and slammed the door shut on it a few more times for good measure. Not. Now.

Serrik was standing at the far side of the room from her, on the opposite side of one of his long tables, sorting through papers and items in front of him. His placid expression was stony and stoic, as it always was.

Silence stretched between them. All that filled the space was the crackle of wood in the fireplace and the rustle of leaves in the huge tree that dominated the space, having burst up through the floor and overtaken the ceiling.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “So…who starts?”

“Hello, Ava.”

Two words. That was it? That’s all she got?

Two words. Slowly, unsure of what kind of mood he was in—if he was in any kind of mood at all, she walked up to the table, standing on the opposite side from him.

He was working on a bracelet or similar piece of jewelry, fashioned in gold and emerald gems of every shade, laid out flat on the table.

But the band was odd and asymmetrical, looking almost like sections of woven-together pieces of acanthus leaves from the architecture around them.

It was shockingly delicate and thin for how intricate it was.

“Can I ask you a question?” She placed her hands on the edge of the table. “And I’d like an honest answer. No half-truths.”

“If I am able.” He was writing down strange symbols—the First Language that she remembered from that weird place in the Web—onto a piece of paper with a quill pen. And with each etch of the ink, she watched as a matching symbol appeared on the gold.

Just like all the jewelry he wore.

“When we, um.” She didn’t know how to broach the subject.

“Made love?”

“Sure. That.” She wasn’t sure if she’d describe it like that, but fine.

If he wanted to be a gentleman, she’d go along with it.

“I know I agreed to it. And none of that was your fault. I’m not blaming you, but I’m just wondering—” Shit, this was awkward.

“I mean, I’m just curious—” Fuck. She sighed. “What I’m asking is…”

“If it was truly you who desired me or the entity I have forced upon you?” He didn’t look up from his work. “You find yourself naturally wondering how much of the desire you felt was inspired by your own self versus the corruption I placed within your body.”

Taking in a breath, she held it for a moment before letting it out as a hard rush with one word. “Yeah.”

“In short?” He paused. “I do not know. And if I did, I am not sure as I would gladly admit it, Ava.” Still, he didn’t look up at her. His voice carried all the emotion of a man reading a microwave instruction manual.

“Well, points for honesty, I guess.” She winced.

“Do you regret our night together?” There was no way of knowing how he felt about the question.

It was her turn to pause. And she supposed it was her turn to be honest. “I don’t know.

If it was really me, if it was really my choice, then…

no. I don’t. But if it was the Web? Then I don’t know.

How much of it was me? How much of it was it pushing me there?

How much of it was just the Web pushing me toward things I wanted to do anyway?

” She shrugged. “I know you fae will fuck anything with legs, and probably anything without legs, so, I don’t feel weird saying it’s obvious that I think you’re attractive.

And have since I met you. That isn’t the issue. ”

There was a small ghost of a smirk upon his lips that vanished as soon as it appeared. “I will remind you that I am half fae.”

“Well, it was clear that half was driving the bus last night, wasn’t it?”

Silence hung in the air for a long moment before he answered. “Yes.”

“So I suppose I’m going to ask you the same question, Serrik. Do you regret our night together?”

Those faintly-glowing golden eyes of his slid closed. “I regret, perhaps, how it came to pass.”

Studying his perfect, expressionless face for a moment, she tried to find something— anything— there that could help her understand what that really meant. The admission, or rather admissions, hung between them. “What do you mean, exactly? ”

Serrik sat down his quill into its holder with careful precision. Finally, he looked up to meet her gaze. There was something in his golden eyes. Not exactly guarded, but masked. As if he were hiding something from her. Something deeper she couldn’t quite identify.

She remembered those emotions she’d felt from him in the dream-state they had shared. Was that it?

“It was not my intent to further complicate matters between us.” His tone was carefully measured.

“Our connection serves a purpose, and your mental state is already strained enough with the amount of stress you are under. What happened was an…indulgence that benefited neither of us in the pursuit of our goals.”

“An indulgence?” She couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. The words stung more than they should have. “Holy fuck, buddy.”

An arch of an eyebrow. “Then, pray tell, what would you call it?”

That caught her off guard. What would she call it? A mistake? A moment of weakness? Or something more? Nothing she was willing to commit to.

Shaking her head, she dodged. “I told you I don’t know. It’s all so tangled up, no pun intended. The Web, this bullshit”—she gestured at the tattoo— “Valroy’s plans, your plans, everyone trying to use me for their own ends. How am I supposed to separate what’s real from what’s manufactured?”

His expression softened, if only slightly. “It is truly doubt that is what troubles you? The authenticity of the act we shared. I assure you, to me…it was quite real.”

Ava found herself momentarily speechless. What was he confessing? Was he saying what she thought he was? No. He couldn’t be. “Why did you hesitate?” She had to change the subject. “Before. You’ve never asked permission before.”

A shadow passed over his features. “Conditions have changed.”

“What conditions?”

“You have changed.” He gestured idly to her arm where the tattoo reached now to her elbow.

“The Web grows stronger within you with each passing encounter we share. And your circumstances have changed as well. Residing within Valroy’s court as you do, surrounded by his influences, I do not know what other offers of protection you may have acquired. ”

Then it hit her. She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Holy shit, you’re jealous.”

“Jealousy is a human emotion.” He turned back down to his work. “I am merely concerned about interference over what is mine.”

“I am not yours.” Her response was automatic.

Golden eyes flicked up to hers, though he didn’t lift his head. “Are you not?”

The question hung in the air between them, charged with meaning. Ava felt her heart rate quicken despite herself. “Whatever I said in a moment of passion—I don’t even really remember anything after you bit me?—”

“I am not referring to any of that.” He waved a hand dismissively.

Oh, now she wanted to fucking slap him. But she couldn’t very well be angry at him for dismissing a thing she’d already dismissed—but oh boy did she want to be. Her hands clenched into fists. “You can’t claim me like I’m something to be possessed. I’m not.”

“I have claimed nothing.” He returned to his work. “But the Web within you bears my mark, all the same. It is a creation of my design and my influence. Our connection exists whether either of us wills it or not.”