Ava stood watching him, saying nothing. She knew he was aware of her presence—he always was. This was his game. Making her wait. Making her come to him.
Nope.
Fuck you, buddy.
Not this time.
She leaned against a bookshelf, arms crossed, and waited. The melody he played was haunting and complex. Something that that she suspected he’d written, seeing as it sounded almost impossible for human hands to execute. A reminder of his otherness.
Finally, he spoke without turning. “You are avoiding me now, little butterfly?”
“Can you blame me?”
His fingers never faltered on the keys. “I suppose not. After the…revelation you were given by the Web.”
So he knew. Ofcoursehe knew. No matter how little power she felt like she ever had in any conversation with him, he always managed to take it away with a snap of his fingers. They were bound—linked, after all. What she knew, he knew.
“Well, is it true?” The question came out harsher than she’d intended. But she was pissed, and honestly, she felt justified. “It’s one thing to turn me into your weapon. It’s another thing to not tell me that doing so willconsume my personality.That I’ll become a walking version of”—she gestured at the space around her—“whatever the fuck you’ve made.”
The music stopped. The silence that followed felt oppressive, charged with tension.
Serrik turned on the bench, his golden eyes meeting hers. “The Web has many facets. Many voices. And it reflects many futures.”
She laughed. Seriously? “That’s not a denial, Serrik.”
A ghost of a smile touched his perfect lips. “No. It is not.”
He rose from the bench, his movements liquid and precise. Every step toward her sent a contradictory wave of fear and anticipation through her body. Her pulse quickened. Stupid, treacherous body.
“What the Web showed you is, as it always is, apossibleoutcome.One of many.”
“A possible outcome that you’re actively working toward.”
Serrik stopped a few feet from her, close enough that she could smell him—that impossible scent of lightning, herbs, and something citrusy and spicy she couldn’t name.
“I seek freedom, Ava. As do you. Our paths align in this.”
“Do they? Because that’s just one thing on your laundry list of other shit you want.” She forced herself to hold his gaze, despite the dizzying effect it had on her. “And from where I’m standing, you’ll get to walk free while I become something that isn’t me anymore. Something you can use.”
“Is that truly what you fear?” He tilted his head, studying her with those unsettling, inhumanly irised, faintly-glowing golden eyes. “The loss of self? Or is it that you fear what you might become—something greater than human?”
Her tattoo pulsed warmly under her skin, as if responding to his proximity. Scratching at it, she tried to put it out of her mind. “I like being human, thanks. Big fan of eating, sleeping, not being used as a cosmic weapon.”
“Yet”—Serrik took a step closer still—“you continue to seek the keys. To unlock the seals. To bind yourself further to the Web.”
“Because I don’t have a choice!”
“Ah, but in that, you are mistaken, Ava.” His voice dropped lower, a growl that was dangerously intimate. “You could have remained with your friends. You could have rejected this path entirely. But here you are. Alone. Moving forward. Why, if you did not desire some part of it?”
Because she was trapped. Because she was afraid. Because she was seeking more power to fight him with. She needed power to defeat him, didn’t she?
But was he telling the truth? Was some part of her—a part she didn’t want to examine too closely—drawn toward whatever this was becoming? Drawn toward him?
She didn’t know. She didn’t want to know.
And like fuck if she was going to say that aloud. “Because I don’t trust them either.”
Serrik smiled then, a real smile that transformed his face from cold perfection to something achingly beautiful. “At least there is honesty between us.”
