Page 22 of The Unseelie Wish

He ignored Puck slapping his hand over his eyes.

“What do we do about the King?” Izael wrinkled his nose. “Containing her is one thing. Ensuring that Valroy does not meddle and torture her the moment she is back in my grasp is another matter.”

“I will ensure that he stays away from you both.” Abigail’s expression was stern. “Your contract with Alex is yours to complete, undisturbed by him. I will remind him of this forcefully if need be.”

Good. So Valroy would not be a problem. At least in the short term. “And what of her wish, Seelie Queen?”

“As long as the treaty remains intact, I care not for what she wishes. Nor is it my place to have any say in the matter. Of all the differences between our kinds, Unseelie Duke, I think there is one topic where I find the rift between us the most notable.” Abigail stood, brushing her hand down her shirt, smoothing the simple linen fabric.

“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow. It was hard to focus on the conversation now, he had to admit—he was too busy picturing Alex shackled to his tree.

“We Seelie would never seek to weave the pattern of a wish. To us, it is a sacred thing. To your kind…they are to be spun and used to your whimsy. Remade into whatever violent tapestry suits you.” Abigail walked toward the woods. The roots of the forest were already moving to greet her. “And I think that breaks my heart the most for you.”

Izael went to retort. Not like he had anything clever lined up, but he was certain he would come up with something—but the Queen was already gone. And, thankfully, Puck had exited as well without a parting remark.

Wishes were sacred to all the fae. But it was not wrong to seek to recolor them to suit his needs! That was tradition. And far more importantly, Alex had no wishes of her own. So, what did anyone care if he simply gave her one?

Letting out a hrmf, he grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the bar cart and slithered back up his tree. He planned to drink heavily and dream of how he would earn Alex’s trust.

And how beautiful she would look in iron chains.

Begging for him.

Loving him.

Then, he knew. All at once, there it was. He opened his eyes, staring up at the branches overhead. There it was. Just a spark. But a spark like the flash of lighting in a storm, a single thought seared through him like a blinding bolt.

You do not love me, Alex.

The Unseelie King be damned.

The treaty be damned.

A plan was forming in his mind, the pieces falling together in succession. He howled in laughter. Positively cackled in joy. It was all too wonderful!

You do not love me, Alex.

But very soon…you’ll wish you did.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Ihave a question.”

To be fair, Alex had a lot of questions lately.

Bayodan hummed, not looking up from his book. It was clear he could read and carry on a conversation without missing a beat from either, so she didn’t take it personally. It turned out that watching HBO wasn’t his thing—but it was very much Cruinn’s.

The shapeshifter was sitting on the floor, absent-mindedly petting Pumpkin who was curled up in their lap.

But that wasn’t to say that Bayodan was bored. Hardly. He had found the stack of hysterically boring finance and law books that had belonged to the previous owner of the condo. Bayodan seemed intent on devouring them all, seemingly finding them perfectly fascinating.

There was one day left of her week-long stay of execution. Come nightfall, she’d be back in Tir n’Aill, getting tortured. By Izael. But at least it won’t be Valroy? She didn’t know which would be worse. No that wasn’t true. She did. Valroy. Valroy would be much worse.

Or, no, maybe it’d be Izael. Simply because the betrayal involved would hurt her more than the physical pain.

She sighed. She had to ask the question carefully. Why am I a threat to the peace between the fae? Why is my magic so dangerous? She knew she was powerful, but she wasn’t that powerful. Not like Valroy. Or hell, probably a slew of other fae. But she couldn’t ask that. Neither of her Unseelie babysitters knew anything about her magic. And she had to keep it that way.

“What does the treaty actually say?”