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CHAPTER NINETEEN

A va stood at the threshold of Serrik's library, the familiar space materializing around her like watercolors bleeding across canvas.

This time, she'd come deliberately, using the bracelet's power to open the connection rather than being pulled in against her will.

The wood-paneled walls took shape, the massive tree that burst through the floor and ceiling coming into focus, the countless books lining the shelves gaining definition.

She felt the weight of Book against her side. She wasn’t even surprised that her attempt to bring it here had worked, pulling it along with her. She knew that meant something. And she was right on the edge of figuring out what.

But she was doing her best to deal with one thing at a time.

Serrik stood with his back to her, his wild green hair unbound and flowing down his shoulders as he studied something on one of his numerous tables. As always, he cut an imposing figure—tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating a cold power that filled the room like a physical presence.

“I know you are there,” he said without turning. “I felt you seek me out.”

“We need to talk.” Ava’s voice was steadier than she felt .

He turned slowly, his golden eyes finding hers across the room. Something flickered in those luminous depths—surprise, perhaps, at her directness. Or wariness.

“Do we?” he asked, one eyebrow arching elegantly as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Has something changed since our last encounter?”

“Everything's changed.” She took another step forward. “I need answers, Serrik. Real ones. No more deflections, no more half-truths, no more manipulations. Real fucking answers.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “You speak as though I have been deliberately hiding things from you.”

“Oh that’s quaint.” She laughed. Lifting her wrist, she undid the delicate latch of the bracelet. “You’ve been hiding everything from me. Let’s start with this.” Taking it off, she threw it across the room at him. It skidded across the wood floor, ending at the toe of his expensive, polished shoes.

The tattoo reached down to the back of her hand, now. Delicate and thin, it wound to the middle finger of her hand. And she knew, if she looked in a mirror, it would peek out up from under the collar of her shirt onto the side of her neck. She hoped it didn’t go any farther than that.

Serrik’s expression remained unflinching. He simply watched her. “The glamour was intended to help you adjust to the inevitability of what was transpiring.”

“It was a fucking lie!” She couldn’t help but scream at him.

“You knew what you told me was misleading. You told me ‘the tattoo wouldn’t spread.’ You purposefully said those exact words to me, knowing I would misinterpret them to mean that it would stall the spread of the Web, not just the fucking tattoo! ”

He clasped his hands at his back and watched her. “It was for your well-being.”

“Bullshit! It was to keep me easier to manipulate. Wasn’t it?” She clenched her fists.

He studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “ Those are the words of Valroy and Abigail. Not yours. What are they planning? What do they seek to do?”

“They want to live. They want me not to turn into a giant super-weapon that you use to kill them all, that’s what. And don’t take that tone with me, like I’m somehow to blame for all this.” She laughed in disbelief. “And as for what they’re planning? That’s my business. Not yours.”

She still had Bayodan and Cruinn’s possible spell in her back pocket. Killing Serrik seemed more and more on the table, despite everything that had transpired between them.

Something dangerous flashed in Serrik's eyes. “You speak to me of blame? Of lies? What of your clandestine meeting with Bayodan? The old goat was my tutor once, did he mention that? He has ample reason to despise me. Whatever he has promised you?—”

“This isn't about him!” Ava cut him off. She didn’t know how he knew. And right now, she didn’t care. “This is about you and me. About the way you've been manipulating me from the start.”

“I have been nothing but forthright about my intentions,” Serrik replied, his voice cold. “I seek vengeance against those who tortured and imprisoned me. I seek to end their blight of a race and to protect your world and all others from their malignancy. I have never pretended otherwise.”

“But you've hidden everything else!" She was pacing now, unable to contain the storm of emotions. “What I am. What I'm becoming. The fact that I even had a fucking choice in the matter! What you really are.” She stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “Show me.”

Serrik went utterly still. “What?”

“Your true form. Show me what you really look like.”

The temperature in the library seemed to drop several degrees. Serrik's face became a mask of stone, his golden eyes narrowing. “Explain.”

“Because I'm tired of the deception. Because I need to know what I'm dealing with.

Because everyone keeps telling me you're hiding something fundamental from me, that you don’t trust me, and I'm starting to think they're right.” She crossed her arms. “Because if you want me to trust you, then it needs to go both ways.”

“Trust,” he repeated, the word falling from his lips like a heavy stone. “Is that a concept you believe applies to creatures such as myself?”

“Don't pull that 'I'm not human' bullshit with me.” Ava stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated. “You want me on your side? You want me to help you destroy the fae? Then show me who you really are.”

“You have seen who I am.” His voice was dangerously soft.

“I’ve seen a mask. A glamour, just like your stupid parlor trick gift.” She gestured to her wrist where the bracelet had been. “I want to see what's underneath. What you’re so ashamed of you won’t show me.”

Serrik turned away from her, moving to the window that looked out over the Web. His silhouette was rigid, tense in a way she'd never seen before.

“You do not know what you ask,” he said finally.

“Then tell me.”

“It is not a simple matter of appearance.” His voice was low, controlled with obvious effort. “What I am…what I truly am…it is dangerous. Unpredictable. Especially to humans.”

“I’m not exactly human anymore, am I?” Ava countered. “Not with this.” She held up her arm, showing the tattoo that now wound down to her hand.

Serrik was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, there was something different in his voice—something she'd never heard from him before.

Real vulnerability. “Is this truly what you wish? To see the creature that has haunted the nightmares of the fae for centuries? The abomination that even the Morrigan could not bear to look upon?”

Ava swallowed hard. “Yes.”

He turned to her then, his eyes burning with an intensity that made her want to step back .

“Why do you wish to hurt me?” The question was almost a plea.

She hadn't expected that—hadn't anticipated that the ever-confident, ever-controlled Serrik would sound so…wounded.

“Because I need to know if I can trust you,” she said, softer now.

“Because if—if I'm going to risk everything—I need to know. Not some illusion, not some crafted image. You. The real you.” She swallowed thickly. “I shouldn’t want to end the fae. And I don’t.

I don’t want genocide, Serrik. I don’t want to kill them all.

I should reject you and everything you stand for.

But I’m still here. Talking to you. And I don’t know why.

I want to believe you. I want to trust you.

And I want you to trust me. I need you to tell me the truth. ”

Serrik studied her face, searching for something.

Revulsion? Fear? Mockery? She didn't know.

But she held his gaze steadily, refusing to look away.

“And if what you see revolts you?” His voice was barely audible.

“If you find yourself unable to even look upon me without horror? If I lash out at you in primal, uncontrollable wrath?”

The question caught her off guard. This wasn't pride or manipulation. This was…even deeper than shame. This was disgust.

“Serrik,” she said, gentler than she'd intended. “After everything I've been through—after all the things I've seen—do you really think I'd be that shallow?”

“It is not a matter of shallowness,” he replied. “It is instinct. Even the fae, creatures of nightmares themselves, recoil from what I am. It is a part of my very being, Ava. Why do you think I hide it behind such trappings?”

“But I'm not them.” She took another step toward him. “I’m the person who's becoming the vessel of the Web. I'm the person who's spent weeks in your company. I'm the person who—” She broke off, not quite willing to put into words what had happened between them.

“The person who what?” Serrik's voice had dropped to a dangerous rumble.

“The person who made love to you,” she finished, refusing to back down. “Or was that just another manipulation? ”

His eyes flashed. “You still question the authenticity of what passed between us?”

“I question everything at this point!” Her anger resurfaced. “How can I not, when no one will tell me the truth? When no one will tell me what’s really going on?”

“You wish to see?” The air around Serrik seemed to vibrate, the shadows in the corners of the library growing deeper, more ominous. “You wish to see the monster beneath the mask? Very well, Ava Cole. Very well.”

He stepped away from the window, into the center of the room. The glamour around him began to flicker, like a television with poor reception. His tall, elegant form wavered, grew indistinct.

And then he stopped.

“No,” he said, the glamour solidifying again. “No, I cannot.”

“Can't or won’t?” Ava challenged, though she felt a strange mixture of disappointment and relief.

“Won’t,” he admitted, his voice strained. “I will not have you look upon me with disgust or fear. I have endured that for too long, from too many.”