Page 40 of The Unseelie Wish

“Do you honestly believe that is true?”

Did she? Did she really? Or was she using it as an excuse? Putting her head in her hand, she let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know, Izael. I just don’t. I haven’t had the chance to breathe.”

“You wouldn’t have said it if some part of you didn’t believe it.” Pulling her hand away from her face, Izael stood and tugged her up to her feet in front of him. Before she could react, he had her face cradled in his hands. “You think my love for you isn’t real.”

“I—” I think you believe you love me. But you’re also insane. And lonely.

“If you say I don’t know, I’ll slap you.” He narrowed his eyes. “I get to choose where.”

That made her laugh. Taking his hands, she lowered them but didn’t let go. It was one thing to have sex with him. It was another thing to…let him in. She’d spent so long keeping people out to protect herself. “Can we…look, I know the rules, Tir n’Aill by night, Earth by day, but can we go there to talk? The trees have ears.”

“Only if you order more Chinese food.”

Laughing, she rested her forehead against his chest. He reached up to stroke her hair. “Deal.”

Alex managed to find the one place in town that was still open at one in the morning, and she apologized over the phone for all the work she was giving them at the last possible second. But she tipped them a few hundred dollars—which felt wild, given her recent money issues—and they seemed more than happy to oblige.

It should’ve fed an entire basketball team. Instead, it fed one ravenous fae, herself, and a few bits of pork spareribs to Pumpkin, because he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.

Sitting on the sofa, legs folded in front of her, she watched as Izael ate the chicken wings, bones and all. Where it’d horrified her the first time she saw it, now it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. She’d seen much worse in the past week or so.

The human mind was weirdly adaptable when it came down to it.

They ate in silence. Izael was clearly loving the food, but there was a crease between his brows that revealed he was troubled. She felt like an asshole for running her mouth, but here they were. And she really didn’t want to talk about it. But she knew she didn’t have a choice.

The bastard snake was going to wait for her to start. She fidgeted with the cuff of her oversized hoodie, picking at a loose piece of thread. She didn’t care if the hoodie made her look like a shlub. It was comfortable, and right now that was all that mattered.

“Have you ever been in love before?” It was a good place for her to start.

“No.” His answer came fast and unflinching. “Not once in my many hundreds of years. Not fae nor human.” Fishing into the container of one of the many pu pu platters she had ordered, he pulled out another chicken wing and pulled it apart at the hinge.

“Why do you think that is?”

With a contemplative tilt of his head, he took a moment to answer. “Honestly? Nobody was worth my time.”

Ego. Of course. She stabbed her fork into the container of fried rice she had been nursing before putting it down on the coffee table. “Nobody. Ever.”

“Ever,” he repeated. “Though there have been plenty who have told me they loved me over the years, if you think it comes from some soul-crushing loneliness.” He wiggled his fingers in the air. “I had the opportunity.”

She supposed that tracked. “And what happened to them?”

“The fae in question gave up and wandered off, heartbroken, and found another. Or didn’t and either died lonely or still are. The humans?” With a faint, devious smile, he added, “I have a collection.”

“A collection you want to add me to. Of souls trapped in baubles on your shelf, waiting for you to die before they can move on.” Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she decided she was done with the food. More grease wasn’t going to make the night any better. “And you’re wondering why I don’t want to let that happen.”

“But if you loved me, you wouldn’t care—and besides, it’s not like they’re aware of themselves.” He huffed. “Do you think I have a bunch of silently screaming minds trapped in glass paperweights?”

“Frankly? Yeah. I do.” Shooting him a look, she reached for her can of seltzer. She had opted for no more booze. The moonshine that Anfar had brought her was still keeping her well and truly buzzed. “You’re Unseelie. That’s exactly what you freaks do.”

He opened his mouth to argue, paused, shut it, and hummed. “Fair.”

“So, what it’s like for them?”

“Don’t know.”

“You just said—” Slapping a hand over her eyes, she fought the urge to scream. “Izael.”

“A soul isn’t a mind. I assume they…feel like they’re dreaming. Maybe they have snippets of awareness now and then, but perhaps like in a fever. They have no body, no biological rhythms to give them a sense of time. They’re dead.”