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For a moment, he looked almost surprised by the question. Then that mask of cold control slipped back into place.

“Practicality.” His answer was smooth. Simple. And undoubtedly true. “A single entity consumed by the Web is easier to control and to wield than to have the power spread over multiples.”

It was a half-truth. Something was missing.

She watched him for a moment, and then it hit her.

“You don’t know if it can be done. In fact, you’re pretty sure it can’t be done.

You’re offering me something that you know will fail when you try it.

But by then, it’ll be too late. You just want me back. ”

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes—anger at being caught, perhaps. But beneath it was something else, something almost vulnerable.

“I got you.” She was right. She was right, and he couldn’t deny it.

“I fucking got you.” Laughing quietly, she took another step back.

“No, Serrik. I’m not falling for it. Do you know what Valroy made me promise in exchange for his hospitality?

What contract Valroy made me sign in exchange for his protection in Tir n’Aill? ”

It was cruel, rubbing it in like that. But she couldn’t deny she kind of enjoyed watching the corner of his eye twitch every time she said Valroy’s name. It was clear he was holding on by a—no pun intended—thread.

Serrik. The impassive, stoic Serrik.

Ready to snap.

Something about that was as exciting as it was terrifying to her. She kind of wanted to smack the metaphorical beehive with a broomstick just to see what it would do. But the sane part of her mind took over.

“What?” Serrik ground out the question through gritted teeth.

“Absolutely nothing.” It was hard not to sneer at him.

“He wanted nothing in exchange except the chance to show me why the fae were worthy of continued existence.” She threw her hands up in frustration.

“I know he’s manipulating me, Serrik. I know he’s using me.

And I don’t trust him as far as I can throw his blue, bat-winged ass.

But right now? I have to choose between you two half-related fuck-nuggets, and he’s the one currently not trying to cut me up into tiny pieces so he can rearrange me to his liking.

At this moment in time. Could you possibly, maybe, somewhere in that all-knowing, immensely egotistical head of yours, contemplate the notion that I might also be using him? ”

Serrik stared at her, his hands slowly tightening into fists at his sides, but said nothing.

“I’m turning into—into a thing, Serrik. And it’s your fucking fault.

All of this is your fucking fault.” Tears stung her eyes.

No. She clung to her anger like a life raft keeping her out of a sea of sadness and hopelessness.

“And he’s a thing, too. So if I can learn how to control this, stay somehow myself, and stay out of the hands of asshole fuck-nuggets like you two?

” She looked down at her hands. “Yeah. I’ll stay in Tirb nub’Agg-whatever-the-hell for a while.

See what I can learn. Maybe he’ll tell me what you won’t.

And if he turns on me? I’ll drop the fucking Titanic on his head. ”

He stayed silent through her monologue.

And it felt good, for once, to just let it all go. Especially in a space where it almost felt safe to do so. So, Ava kept ranting. “So, in summary? Let me just say this—I’m not fucking stupid, so stop fucking assuming I am!”

Serrik’s expression shifted. She worried he would be angry. Or have some cold, logical tear-down of her explanation.

What he did was far worse.

He laughed.

An icy, mocking, sound that was far more belittling than any other choice he could have made.

She turned and walked away from him. “Whatever. Fuck you. Show me the door out of h—” Something wrapped around her throat, and yanked her back.

She gagged as her words were cut off. Her hands flew to her neck to try to grab whatever it was—but it felt as thin as a fishing line.

She staggered, desperately trying to keep her balance.

“We are not done here, little Weaver.” The hiss of pure anger in his voice was visceral.

Another yank on the string, and she impacted something hard .

Him.

His left arm clamped around her, pinning her to his chest. It was then that she saw what had wrapped around her throat.

A golden strand of thread that wrapped around his palm was stretched taut between them.

He used it to hold her head back and at an angle so he could look down at her.

“Heed my words—this will quickly exceed all that which you are capable of contending with, Ava. This is not about your intelligence, this is about the will of a creature whose smallest and most paltry of designs has been in play for many, many times longer than you have been alive.”

She could only grasp at the thread, desperately trying to pull it away from her. But it was seemingly useless.

“Valroy has no desire to aid you. No desire to show you compassion or kindness. He will seek to control you, to shape you into a weapon that will allow him to burn not only Earth, but any and all worlds beyond it. You give him the doorway to the destruction of places he had never dreamed were possible.”

The thread around her throat disappeared as though it were never there. She gasped for air, turning her head and coughing as it rushed into her lungs. He turned her around in his arms, but kept her pinned to him.

When he forcefully grasped her chin to turn her head to look up at him, she froze. Something about the touch felt more real—more solid —than it had in the dreams before. “You have endangered now not only your race, but many more beyond it.”

“Convenient you tell me this now, when you’re trying to get me to come back.” She tried to find her anger through the strain and the fear.

Before he could respond, the library around them began to blur, edges softening and colors fading. He growled. “Our time grows short. You must return to me, Ava—you must. Valroy is not to be trusted.”

“Why should I believe you?” She tried not to focus on the feeling of his body against hers. She tried to will the dream to end faster. But damn it if that wasn’t easier said than done.

His hand slid to her throat, but didn’t squeeze. “Because unlike him, I have nothing left to lose.” Those faintly glowing eyes burned into hers. “Except you.”

The rawness in his voice stunned her into silence. This wasn't the careful manipulation she had come to expect from him.

This was something else entirely.

“I don’t…” The dream was already failing, Serrik's form becoming translucent. Everything was slipping into darkness.

His final words reached her as if from a great distance. “We will speak again soon, little Weaver.”

The sensation of his touch lingered on her skin long after the dream had faded to nothing.