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“So you'd rather I never know the truth? You'd rather keep me in the dark forever?”

“I would rather you see me as I wish to be seen,” he replied. “As I might have been, had fate been kinder.”

Ava shook her head, frustrated. “That's not how—” She stopped herself. She wanted to say, that’s not how relationships work.

But they weren’t in a relationship. That’s not what this was.

“If you ever want what we have between us, whatever it is, to be real? You can’t just show bits and pieces.

You can’t cherry-pick what to tell me, and what not. ”

“And is that what you want, Ava?” he asked, taking a step toward her. “Something real? With a creature such as I? You know what I want. You know what I desire. And you know what I have done.”

The question hung in the air between them, charged with implications. She hadn't come here for this—hadn't intended to have this conversation. But now that it was happening, she couldn't back away.

“I don't know what I want anymore,” she admitted. “But I know I want honesty. I know I want truth. And if you can't give me that, then what's the point of any of this?”

Serrik's expression darkened. “The point is survival, Ava. Your survival. Mine. The continuation of your world and the revenge I have sought for centuries. The point is power—power that can reshape realities.”

“Is that all this is to you?” That felt like a knife in her ribcage. “Power? Revenge?”

For a moment, something else flickered across his face—something almost human in its vulnerability. Then it was gone, replaced by the cold mask she knew too well. “What else could it be?” he asked.

“You tell me,” she challenged. “When we were together—when you held me, when you kissed me, when you fucked me —was that just another step in your master plan? Just another way to bind me to you?”

His jaw tightened. “You know it was not.”

“Do I? How can I know anything when you hide so much from me? Show me, Serrik. Please.”

“Human hubris truly knows no bounds.” He laughed, but there was still pain etched into his expression. “Or perhaps it is not hubris, but something else. I cannot show you what I am. Not with you looking at me like that."

“Like what?” Ava demanded.

“With hope.” The words sounded as if they'd been torn from him. “With the expectation that what you will see is something you can accept. Something you could…” He trailed off.

“Something I could what?” she pressed.

“Love,” he finished, the word barely audible.

Ava felt as if the floor had dropped out from beneath her. “Serrik?— ”

“Do not,” he cut her off, turning away. “I have endured many things in my long imprisonment, Ava. I have been hated, feared, cursed. I have been the nightmare that haunts the sleep of immortals. But I will not endure your pity.”

“You think that's what this is? Pity?”

“What else could it be?” he asked, his back still to her. “You, a human woman of rare beauty and courage, faced with the reality of what I am. What else could you feel but revulsion, or at best, pity for the monster trapped in this endless suffering?”

Ava wasn't sure how to respond. This was a side of Serrik she'd never seen—a vulnerability she hadn't believed him capable of.

It threw all her assumptions about him into confusion.

She wanted to reach out to him. But she knew it would be met with scorn.

“You don't get to decide how I feel,” she said finally. “That's not your right.”

“No?” He turned back to her, his golden eyes burning.

“Then tell me, Ava Cole. How would you feel, knowing that the creature you've shared such intimacy with is a monstrous amalgamation of spider and fae? That the body you responded to with such passion is merely an illusion hiding a form that has driven even immortal beings mad with terror? And that what it desires to do to your sweet flesh goes beyond all your wildest nightmares?”

“I don't know,” she admitted, her cheeks going warm despite herself. “But I deserve the chance to find out for myself.”

“And if the sight destroys whatever feeling has grown between us?” There was a desperate edge to his voice. “If it taints every memory of our time together? What then, Ava?”

“Then at least it would be honest,” she replied. “At least it would be real.”

“Reality is ill-understood and deeply over-valued.” He laughed bitterly. “Trust me on this, if nothing else. You would flee from this dream and run to Bayodan, begging for his help in finding a way to kill me. I know he has offered help, hasn’t he?”

Ava shrugged. “He has. But I don’t know what the spell is, what it’s toll will be, or even if I want to cast it, Serrik. I need to have options. Because right now, I don’t know if I can trust you. Or if I can even side with you at all. Right now, I’m on no one’s side but my own.”

He looked at her for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. “You've spoken with the Morrigan,” he said finally. “What did she tell you?”

Ava tensed. How did he know about that? But she couldn’t very well be mad at him for withholding information and then turn around and do the same. “Not much. She was pretty cryptic. Stop changing the subject.”

“I assure you, I am not.” Serrik took another step closer to her. “You returned with questions. With suspicions.” His eyes narrowed. “These thoughts are their work. What did Valroy say to you?”

“This isn't about Valroy.”

“Isn't it? He seeks to turn you against me. To use you as his weapon rather than mine.” Serrik took another step closer. She refused to back down. He was only a foot away now. “What lies has he filled your head with?”

“The only lies in my head are yours,” she retorted. “Tell me the truth, Serrik. Tell me what all of you are hiding from me. What's the secret about the Web? About what I'm becoming? Because I know there's something major that none of you will tell me.”

Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of panic quickly masked. "It is not something easily explained."

“Try me.”

“It is not something you are ready to hear.”

“That's not your decision to make.”

“Is it not?” His voice rose in volume slightly. “I have shepherded this process from the beginning. I know better than any what you face, what you are becoming.”

“Just fucking tell me!"

“No.” The word was final, absolute.

“Last ditch effort. You told me that I needed the shards to become the Web. But in Tir n’Aill, the transformation is happening anyway. How is that possible?”

He stared at her in silence, his jaw ticking.

Ava stared at him, disbelief giving way to bitter disappointment. “So that's it? You just refuse? You won't show me what you really look like, you won’t explain the shards, and you won't tell me what I'm becoming?”

“I cannot.” There was genuine regret in his voice. “Not yet.”

“When, then? When I'm completely transformed? When it's too late for me to make any real choice? When you’re the only person who gets to fill my head with opinions on how to feel about it?” She shook her head. “That's not good enough, Serrik.”

“It must be,” he said firmly. “For now. Return to me, Ava. Come back to the Web. You are safer here. We can discuss this in our own time.”

They stood facing each other across the library, at an impasse. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and suppressed emotions.

Finally, Ava spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “I don't think I can do this anymore.”

Serrik's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes did—a flash of what might have been panic. “What do you mean?”

“This. Us. Whatever game we're playing.” She gestured between them. “I can't keep going in circles. I’m only ever getting half the story.”

“You would abandon everything we have experienced?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice now. “You would throw away what we could achieve together?”

“What have we experienced, Serrik? A sea of half-truths and manipulation?” She laughed bitterly. “That's not something worth saving.”

“You do not mean that.” He reached out to touch her, his hand hesitating over her cheek. “You cannot. ”

“Why not? Because it doesn't fit your plans?” She didn’t pull away from him. “I’m done being a pawn in your game.”

“You are not a pawn,” he growled. “You have never been merely a pawn to me.”

“Then what am I, Serrik? What am I to you? Or can you not even fucking tell me that without lying or dodging?” The question burst from her before she could stop it.

For a moment, he looked genuinely taken aback. Then something in his expression shifted, hardened. “You know what you are to me.”

“A weapon. A chance at revenge. After that? No, I don't. That's the whole problem.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I don't know anything! Not what you are, not what I'm becoming, not what this is between us.”

“You wish to know what you are to me?” His voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You wish to understand what this is?”

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them. His hand caught her chin, tilting her face up to his with surprising gentleness, given the fury in his eyes.

“You are my salvation,” he said, each word precise and deliberate.

“You are my vengeance. You are my future and my past colliding in one impossible, exquisite moment.” His other hand moved to her waist, drawing her closer.

“You are the first creature in centuries to look at me with something other than fear or hatred. The first to challenge me, to defy me, to match me.”

Ava's heart was hammering in her chest. She should step away. She should push him back. But she couldn't move, caught in the gravity of his words, of his presence.

“You will be my undoing, Ava Cole.” His voice was barely audible now. “And I find I do not care.”

Before she could process his words, his lips crashed against hers with bruising intensity. There was nothing controlled about this kiss. It was raw, desperate, almost violent in its need.

She should stop this. She knew she should. But as his arms enveloped her, as the familiar heat of his body pressed against hers, she found herself responding with equal fervor. Her hands tangled in his wild green hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers. His golden eyes, usually so cold and calculating, burned with an emotion she'd never seen in them before.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words sounding as if they'd been torn from the depths of his soul. “Against all reason, against all wisdom, I love you.”

The confession hung in the air between them, as shocking and unexpected as a thunderclap in a clear sky. Ava stared at him, speechless, her world tilting on its axis.

Serrik loved her.

The monster. The prisoner. The exile.

Loved her.

And she had no idea what to do.

Or whether or not she even believed him.