Page 26 of The Unseelie Wish

“If I give up my magic, I’m defenseless against Izael—I’d just be his mortal puppet.” She grimaced. “At least like this, I can stop Izael from doing anything terrible to me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“What, don’t trust the fae?” Sarcasm dripped from his tone, even if he was smiling beatifically. “I can’t imagine why!”

“But if giving up my magic saves the world, then…” If she had been willing to die for it, this couldn’t be as bad. She’d be alive. She’d be a toy for the fae, but that’s what she got for making a stupid deal with them. At least the sex is gonna be great. She shoved that thought back into the dumpster fire it crawled out of. “Unless I win. If I win the bet, I get to keep my magic, and my soul.”

“Think you can win? Think you really don’t have a single wish? You can’t lie about it, y’know. Not even to yourself.” Puck gave her a wry side-eyed glance. “And you’re very good at lying to yourself.”

“I am not lying to myself about anything.”

“Mm-hmm…” Puck blinked out of existence and reappeared on her other side, making her jump. “And anyway, do you really want to risk it? If you’re wrong and you lose, you end two worlds. Better to just get rid of your magic to be safe. Right?”

Her jaw was twitching again. He was right. He really was. But it felt wrong. I finally have something about me that matters. Something about me that makes me unique. And strong. Not just a failed singer, barista, and shitty witch. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had a place in the world at large that was special.

But logic dictated that it wasn’t worth it. That she wasn’t worth it.

Shutting her eyes, she let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll give up my magic.” At least that would simplify things.

And the last thing she needed right now was for anything to make this more complicated.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Izael was about to make things more complicated.

The sun would set within the hour, and he would return to Earth to reclaim his songbird and slap her in irons. He was almost shaking with excitement. But first, he had to set his plan in motion. And that required speaking to the one person in the world he would rather not disturb.

But there was no way around it.

He had to cut a deal with the Unseelie King.

This time, he did not barge in on the sleeping monarch. He ensured that one of Valroy’s servants went in to announce his arrival. It would not improve Valroy’s mood at being woken early, but it might keep all of Izael’s limbs and scales where he preferred them. Namely, attached to the rest of him.

He walked into Valroy’s chambers on two legs. He felt more protected wearing a suit, even if he knew it would do him little good if Valroy decided to start a brawl. But it felt safer, silly as it was.

Valroy was awake. And in just as foul of a mood as Izael expected. The King was sitting at his table, tapping his long nails on the wood surface in a slow, meticulous pattern.

Izael smiled as he approached, not letting his dread of the conversation show. He was nothing if not a creature of appearance, after all. “My liege.”

“Make it quick, snake.”

“Don’t be cross,” Izael crooned as he leaned against the back of the chair across from Valroy. “I come with a proposition. One I think might brighten your mood.”

It was clear Valroy was not intrigued, judging by the withering stare he was shooting at Izael.

“I have a secret.” Izael smiled, deeply proud of himself for coming up with his scheme on such short notice. “One that will ensure this treaty that vexes us so very much is put to an end.”

That succeeded in capturing the King’s attention. He sat forward. “Tell me.”

“Ah, ah, not so fast.” Izael let his smile turn into a grin. “I need something in exchange.”

“How about this—you tell me this secret of yours, and I will not rip your arms off.” Valroy bared his teeth. “How is that for an exchange?”

“Well, because this secret requires me to be alive to be useful. Alive and intact,” he amended quickly.

“The secret has something to do with this witch of yours, then.” Valroy sat back in his chair again, attempting to work out what it could be for himself. “Something to do with this wish.”

That was half right. “The wish is not important.” Izael waved his hand. “And we cannot rely on that to end the treaty. Alex has proven herself to be a rather stubborn and bullheaded witch. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

The flat stare he received in exchange told Izael that Valroy knew and was not interested in commiserating over the subject.