Page 8 of The Unseelie Wish

Or all the above.

It meant there was only one option left to get Alex back. One card he could play. And he loathed doing it, almost as much as he loathed asking Puck for help. It was less embarrassing, sure—but it was far, far more dangerous.

He had to ask Valroy for help.

Shuddering at the notion, he straightened his suitcoat and strolled into Valroy’s home. It was daylight, so the Unseelie King was likely sleeping. Izael knew it was entirely the wrong time to bust in on the fae ruler unannounced, but—there might only be seconds before Alex was murdered by the Seelie.

If she wasn’t already dead.

Or claimed by someone else.

No, she is mine! Mine!

Urgency drove him forward. Urgency and need. And perhaps a broken heart. Damn it, damn this foolish love! It was incredibly inconvenient. Lust, he enjoyed—it could be used and discarded. It rarely lasted. And it rarely caused such agony. But love? Love was painful.

Valroy was, thankfully, not asleep. He was sitting at his table, leaning back in his chair, staring off into the middle distance. One of his long ears twitched at hearing Izael approach.

The King sighed. “Finally, you arrive, snake.”

Wait. What? Izael grimaced. “You were expecting me?”

“I am here, wondering how I can get us both out of this mess you have caused.” Valroy shot him a withering glare. “We had all we needed in my hands?—”

My hands. Not yours. Izael didn’t dare correct his King. He liked having his limbs exactly where they were meant to be.

“—and you have squandered it! You idiotic thing. What did you do?”

Izael fought to keep a wince off his features. “I must have her back.”

Valroy pushed up from the table, anger now clearly winning over his amusement. “The human is with Abigail. My wife is absent this morning, which tells me that is certain. She has the human. A human with a wish due to you—one that I planned to wield for the good of our people. We were on the verge of freedom, you fool!” He bared his teeth as he spoke. “And now I must solve this problem for both of us.”

Izael did his best not to bristle at that, but it was unavoidable. “Alex belongs to me.”

“And you may have her, once she wishes away the treaty.” Valroy sneered. “Until then, she is mine to do with what I wish. That much should be painfully clear to you.”

There was no amount of grandstanding Izael could do that could force the King to back down. He was, after all, nigh unstoppable. Izael could attempt to pray to the Morrigan for favor—or even perhaps approach the Seelie Queen herself.

Both paths were doomed to fail. No, he had to deal with Valroy.

“Your method of convincing her to use her wish to aid us will leave her scarred and shattered—I do not wish to have you break my toy.” Izael could not reveal to the King his real feelings for Alex. Any confession like that would mean that Valroy had leverage over him. And that was deadly.

“And what shall you do, little Duke, to stop me?” The King smirked, staring at him like a wolf. To look away would be to defer. Such was the way of challenges like this in the wild.

Izael grimaced.

Valroy was the Unseelie King.

Valroy was unnatural, even by their standards. The son of the Morrigan and an archdemon, with the soul of the void itself.

There was nothing Izael could do to stop Valroy.

Not directly.

Izael turned away, pacing in his frustration. It was the only thing that legs did better than his tail. Valroy chuckled, a sound that only further served to irritate Izael.

Izael ran through the options in his mind. He could confess his love for the witch—but Valroy would only laugh harder and have a terrible new way to hurt him. Threatening the King would only get Izael turned into a pair of snakeskin boots.

No. He had to be clever about this. “Either way, her presence with the Seelie serves neither of our goals.”