Page 39 of The Unseelie Wish
“Did Valroy tell you the rest of the bullshit I’m dealing with?”
“He did.”
After waiting a few seconds for him to say anything else, she shook her head. “Like what? There are layers, and you people like to play games within games.”
“That he must convince you to use your wish to love him before the end of the third day forward, or else his soul will belong to you.” There was no smile on his face that time.
“Ah.” Putting down her glass of booze, she met those all-black eyes of his. It was like sitting across the table from the ghost of Christmas future. The dude was creepy. “That’s why you’re here.”
“I am merely here to judge the odds of such a thing coming to pass.” He didn’t even fidget. Or move, really. He just sat there, perfectly still, and stared.
“And then what?”
“It is not worth discussing. I pose you no danger, if that is your concern.”
“It’d crossed my mind.” She sipped the booze again. Now that she was used to the searing pain, it was actually kind of tasty. “Seeing as everybody here wants to either fuck me, kill me, or both.” She paused. “Mostly both.”
That actually earned her a laugh. “I see what he likes in you. You have a sharp wit.”
And I’m willing to let him shove both his dicks in my— “I appreciate that.” Every now and then she still had to fight the urge to say “thanks,” but she was getting used to it. The last thing she needed was to be stuck in some sort of debtor situation to Izael’s leviathan dad.
“Valroy did not wish to see me, you lying sack of rotten seaweed—” Izael appeared out of a swirl of dark smoke, lips curled back as he bared his teeth at a very unfazed Anfar.
“I desired a moment alone with your human.” Anfar stood, clearly in no rush. He turned his attention back to Alex. “Keep the bottle.”
Lifting her glass in a half-toast to him, she smirked at the monster. “Nice to meet you.”
“And you.”
Izael pointed to the woods. “Go away, Uncle.”
Anfar walked toward the edge of Izael’s home, as an inky black pool of water appeared from nowhere. He stepped into it, disappearing below the ground. The pond disappeared a moment later, as if evaporating into the air.
“He told me the truth.” She sipped the booze.
Slumping down in his chair, Izael’s expression was a mix of frustration and a strange kind of sadness. “My dinner is cold.”
“Can’t you use magic to reheat it?”
“That isn’t the point.” His hands tightened into fists as he clearly struggled to hold back his anger. “My father finally decides he wishes to meddle in my life. Pardon me if I find this exceedingly annoying.”
“I don’t like my parents either, if it makes you feel any better. And the feeling is mutual. At least Anfar wants to know what I’ll do with your soul when I wind up with it.”
When he looked up at her, quizzical at her certainty, she grinned at him. With a huff, he reached out and grabbed the bottle Anfar had left behind and poured himself a drink. “You’re attempting to cheer me up.”
Was she? Huh. She was. She shrugged. “I don’t hate you, Izael.”
“But you don’t love me.”
Shutting her eyes, she felt her mood instantly drop. “I don’t know, Izael. I really don’t know if I do or not.”
“How is that possible? How can you not know?” Izael threw his hands in the air in frustration. “It is all you humans care about! Every story you tell, every myth you hold dear, is all about love.”
“Because it’s not about me! None of this is about me or my feelings. It’s about Valroy and this fucking war he wants to wage, and it’s about you wanting—” She stopped herself. There was no point in being needlessly cruel.
But it was too late. Izael watched her, sea green eyes cool. “Say it.”
“It’s about you wanting to be loved. It isn’t you wanting me to love you. I’m just the one you picked.” Her jaw ticked. Man, that moonshine was strong. She hadn’t wanted to say that. She didn’t even realize that was how she felt until it fell out of her face.