Chapter 6

The days were crawling by.

Izael was convinced that this "week" that felt like an eternity would drive him more insane than he already was. Because somehow, he had managed to be anxious, depressed, furious, bored, restless, and forlorn. All at the same damn time.

It was like watching a pot, waiting for it to boil. How many times had he napped through a mortal week by accident? Yet this one had the audacity to slow down!

He had spent more time than he would care to admit torturing himself with the glass orb that was connected to Alex. Watching her on Earth. Spending time with Bayodan and Cruinn. Laughing with them. Watching television. Playing board games.

She is mine!

Jealousy ran through his veins like the heretofore mentioned boiling water. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear Bayodan's face off with his fingernails, wanted to hear him scream. Wanted to smash Cruinn a second time. Make the shapeshifter suffer.

The week was only half over. Half. Half! He wailed and shoved the glass orb under a pillow, vowing never to look at it again.

That lasted for precisely the span of two heartbeats before he had it in his hand again.

To Alex's credit, she had not slept with either of the Unseelie courtesans. He appreciated that. He did not think whatever thinly remained of his sanity would survive watching her lie with Bayodan or—andlet's be honest here—Cruinn. He was not above sharing…eventually.

But only once he had thoroughly shown her all the pleasure and suffering he could bring her. Again, and again, and again. In every possible way he could.

So, perhaps in thirty years, he might consider sharing her with others if she wished to sample the wild array of creatures who would eagerly partake in her. Forty. Forty years.

He could extend her mortal life by magic. Her aging would slow. He would keep his songbird for as long as he could. Centuries, perhaps, before she was finally an old woman and he let her go to her final rest, though her soul would still be his.

There would be a very special place on his shelf for the bauble he would keep her soul within forever. Only when he finally met the grave would she be free of him. And, if the Morrigan were merciful, she would still belong to him in the next life.

Alex was his.

And he was going to make sure, the moment she was within his grasp again, she never left it. He rolled onto his back, shuddering at the thoughts and visions that swam through his mind. He was going to make her pay for this—for running from him, for seeking shelter with the Seelie, then stalling the inevitable—and she was going to understand precisely what the cost was for making him wait.

In his mind, she was trapped in his coils, gagged, unable to even beg him for more, as he stuffed her full of both of his cocks. How could she run from him, when she hadn't even experienced his full self yet? It made no sense!

He moaned, his hand traveling down his human self, grasping his stiffening length, wishing it was her. Wishing it was her body clenched around him, not his fist. Wishing to feel her clamp down around all of him as he showed her precisely what it was like to make love to a snake.

She would never think of leaving him again.

"You done up there, or do you want help?"

His arousal fled. Snarling, he sat up to glare over the edge of his boat at the interloper. Puck. "Go away!"

"You want help, then?"

"No!"

The half-breed snorted. "Sorry. Should have let you finish. I know, I'm such a tease." He purred the last word. "I came to see how you were doing. I think I have my answer. Anywhozle, I come with word from Abigail."

Izael sank back against his pillows, pressing the heels of his hands onto his cheekbones, wishing to blot out the existence of the world. With a wavering sigh, he shifted his body into that of his true self and slithered from the bed. Even though he did not serve the Seelie Queen, one did not ignore a message from royalty. "I am in no mood for your games."

"Clearly." Puck shrugged. "Whatever. Like I said. I have a message. She wants to talk to you—in private."

"And how, precisely, does she expect to manage that?" He arched an eyebrow at Puck.

"It is not so very difficult, when one puts one's mind to it." It was Abigail. The Seelie Queen walked out from the tree that was his home, the roots parting and giving way as she emerged. "My husband is asleep, if that is your concern. He will be none the wiser to our visit."

"I don't like working against my kind to parlay with the enemy." Izael grimaced. He also didn't like the idea that Abigail could just waltz right into his home.

"I suppose I do not blame you." Abigail walked to one of his bookcases, perusing his collection. He bristled. She was a threat, yes—but also an insult. This was his home. And a Seelie was waltzing through it like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Cool your dicks, snake." Puck snickered. He was now sitting atop Izael's wardrobe, legs crossed, grinning like this was the most amusing thing he'd seen in years. "Unless you want to get eaten by her vines."

The Gle'Golun. The dreaded red flowers that would devour anything that wandered too close. Abigail had sacrificed herself to them as a mortal in hopes that her death would put a halt to Valroy's plans to ascend to the throne of the Unseelie. It had, in truth, deeply complicated things. The Gle'Golun had become one with the mortal human and turned her into the Seelie creature before him, those vicious flowers still peppering her hair like playful adornments, doing nothing to belie their bloodthirsty nature.

Izael wanted nothing to do with them.

And he wanted even less to do with Abigail. "Go away. Both of you." If Valroy discovered what was happening, Izael would be dead in an instant.

"We three are the only ones who know of Alex's…grander predicament. Her powers must not fall into the hands of the king." Abigail sighed, shaking her head. "The simplest solution would be to end her life. But I loathe the idea."

"Why?" Izael arched an eyebrow in disbelief. Neither the Seelie, nor their Queen, were particularly known for their mercy. Especially when it came to the enemy. They were just as murderous as their darker counterparts, but far more…insidious about it. The Seelie were liars. At least the Unseelie had the dignity not to hide their true nature. "If it solves all your problems, why return her to Earth unscathed?" And without me. He couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice.

Abigail picked up a bauble from his shelf and studied it. It was a figure of a snake, cast out of brass. Likely of human origins, as were most of his belongings. He honestly couldn't remember where he got it or why. Maybe he'd eaten its original owner. It didn't matter. "Do you truly love her? Or is she merely another item for your collection?"

Izael hesitated to answer. To be truthful would be to give her power over the situation—threaten to kill Alex for his fealty. To lie might be pointless. He suspected she very much already knew the answer. "Is that what this is, then? Blackmail?" He grimaced. Seelie scum. "Use my weakness against me?"

"Love is not a weakness." She replaced the statue on his shelf. "But that is not to say that is not a weapon. Which way it is pointed, inward or outward, remains up to you."

"If you've come here to lecture me, I'd rather go back to bed." Izael rolled his eyes but turned his back to Abigail before he did. It was never a good idea to insult a Queen directly to her face. Especially one who was just as capable of eating things as he was.

"And no. This is not blackmail." Abigail sighed. "Merely an attempt to give you a chance to win her heart in return. Before Valroy chains her to his machines of war."

He did not relish the idea of what Valroy would do to Alex, that much was true. As for Alex's heart? He would rather win that on his own without Abigail's help. Although he seemed not to have done a very good job of it thus far.

"Can we jump to the end? I'm getting a migraine." Izael rubbed his temples. "Just tell me what you are proposing."

"If I had a solution, Duke, I would have pursued it already without your assistance." Abigail walked over to one of his sofas and sat. Izael despised watching the woman make herself at home in his home, but there was nothing he could do about it except fume. "The only permanent solution I can see is her death. As neither of us particularly desires that outcome, I am here to say that we may wish to seek a temporary one, instead."

"But with no solution in mind, we would simply be delaying the inevitable." Izael poured himself a drink from his bar cart. He did not offer his "guests" anything. While having Alex by his side for as long as possible, he honestly didn't see the point in living in limbo with her. "And there's a second solution."

"Yes, there is." Abigail hummed. "But I did not bother to recommend it. I know better than to attempt to pry from your fingers that which you think is rightfully yours." She smirked.

He wanted to hurl his glass of alcohol straight at her head. He did not think Alex belonged to him; he knew it. "I will not cancel my contract with her. Her soul will be mine. Nor will I support any attempt on her life—though I know I couldn't prevent it if you set your mind to it." He grimaced at the idea.

"Then, while we search for a third permanent solution, I think a temporary…containment of her gifts may be in order." The Queen shook her head. "As imperfect as that is."

"Valroy will want her gifts under his control. Using a mortal to end the treaty is his only way to break it, after all. Her magic will not fall under the same restrictions as ours." Izael downed his drink and poured himself a second. "And ripping her gift from her might kill her."

"Unless she surrenders it willingly, which she will not do if she feels in danger," the Queen retorted.

"Which she is." From both myself and Valroy.

"Which is my point." Those nearly-glowing green eyes met his. Her tone, friendly until that moment, turned cold. "She must learn to trust you again, Duke. You have the best chance at convincing her to surrender her gifts willingly."

Puck snorted.

Izael really wanted to drink his alcohol, otherwise the glass would already be airborne. That said, Puck was right, though Izael loathed to admit it. He had better odds of eating the moon than he had of earning Alex's trust in the short time they had until their contract ran out. "And how do you propose I contain her magic in the—" Then it hit him. He laughed. And he laughed hard. "Oh, you are a wicked thing, Seelie Queen." A grin split his features. Oh, this was quite wonderful indeed.

There was one surefire way to contain the magic of the fae. And while Alex was mortal, her magic was of Tir n'Aill.

He would have his songbird in a cage of iron. Of sorts. The raw metal could contain any magic, and hers would be no different.

"It is only temporary." Abigail shut her eyes. "And I do not relish the idea of surrendering her to you and yours, Izael. Mark me, I do this for her sake, not yours."

The Queen of the Seelie was telling him to put his wonderful, beautiful, deadly songbird on an iron leash. And to what end? To gain her trust and strip her of her power? Unlikely. There would have to be another permanent solution, other than that. There had to be. He simply hadn't thought of it yet.

His thoughts snapped back to the present. If Abigail would let Alex live if she believed that Izael was working to remove Alex's magic, he would be happy to lie and play the part.

What a glorious joke. What a cosmic farce. It was absolutely beyond perfect. Suddenly, he was quite pleased that they had come to visit. "When this week's respite has ended, I will make her my pet on a chain until I can convince her to surrender her power." Oh, that was a delicious thought indeed. Bowing low at the waist, he purred out, "As you command."

He ignored Puck slapping his hand over his eyes.

"What do we do about the King?" Izael wrinkled his nose. "Containing her is one thing. Ensuring that Valroy does not meddle and torture her the moment she is back in my grasp is another matter."

"I will ensure that he stays away from you both." Abigail's expression was stern. "Your contract with Alex is yours to complete, undisturbed by him. I will remind him of this forcefully if need be."

Good. So Valroy would not be a problem. At least in the short term. "And what of her wish, Seelie Queen?"

"As long as the treaty remains intact, I care not for what she wishes. Nor is it my place to have any say in the matter. Of all the differences between our kinds, Unseelie Duke, I think there is one topic where I find the rift between us the most notable." Abigail stood, brushing her hand down her shirt, smoothing the simple linen fabric.

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow. It was hard to focus on the conversation now, he had to admit—he was too busy picturing Alex shackled to his tree.

"We Seelie would never seek to weave the pattern of a wish. To us, it is a sacred thing. To your kind…they are to be spun and used to your whimsy. Remade into whatever violent tapestry suits you." Abigail walked toward the woods. The roots of the forest were already moving to greet her. "And I think that breaks my heart the most for you."

Izael went to retort. Not like he had anything clever lined up, but he was certain he would come up with something—but the Queen was already gone. And, thankfully, Puck had exited as well without a parting remark.

Wishes were sacred to all the fae. But it was not wrong to seek to recolor them to suit his needs! That was tradition. And far more importantly, Alex had no wishes of her own. So, what did anyone care if he simply gave her one?

Letting out a hrmf, he grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the bar cart and slithered back up his tree. He planned to drink heavily and dream of how he would earn Alex's trust.

And how beautiful she would look in iron chains.

Begging for him.

Loving him.

Then, he knew. All at once, there it was. He opened his eyes, staring up at the branches overhead. There it was. Just a spark. But a spark like the flash of lighting in a storm, a single thought seared through him like a blinding bolt.

You do not love me, Alex.

The Unseelie King be damned.

The treaty be damned.

A plan was forming in his mind, the pieces falling together in succession. He howled in laughter. Positively cackled in joy. It was all too wonderful!

You do not love me, Alex.

But very soon…you'll wish you did.