Chapter 10 #3
“I know you're scared," she continued softly. "I know the idea of facing Valroy terrifies you, not because you might lose, but because you might win. Because winning means becoming everything you've tried so hard not to be. Because winning might mean you have to choose to forgive.”
“You don't understand—”
“I understand perfectly." She looked up into his golden eyes, seeing the centuries of pain reflected there. "You're afraid that if you let yourself become the weapon you were designed to be, you'll never find your way back. You're afraid that the monster will consume the man.”
Serrik was quiet for a long moment, his gaze searching her face. “It will.”
“And I’ll still be here with you if it does.” She met his gaze unflinchingly. “Because you’d be right there with me if I was lost to the Web. Wouldn’t you?”
Serrik raised his hand to cover hers, his touch gentle despite the sharpness of his nails. “You ask too much of me,” he whispered.
“I ask everything of you,” Ava replied. “Because you're everything to me.”
“Ava...?”
“I love you.” Her words came out in a rush. “I know it's complicated, I know the circumstances are fucked up beyond belief, I know we haven't known each other very long in the grand scheme of things. But I love you, Serrik. Not despite what you are, but because of it. All of it.”
Serrik stared at her, his expression cycling through disbelief, hope, and something that might have been terror. “You do not know what you are saying. If this is a ploy—”
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid seven-legged spider. I know exactly what I'm saying.” She stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “I’m saying that I choose you. Monster, spider, bastard, exile, everything, or something in between. I love you.”
“Even if I lose myself? Even if I become something you can't recognize?”
“Then I'll love whatever you become, and I'll fight to bring back whatever remains of who you are now.” Her voice was steady, certain. “That's what love means, isn't it? Staying even when things get impossible?”
Serrik's carefully constructed composure finally cracked completely. His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked every one of his nearly two thousand years. “You ask me to risk your love. And that love is all that matters to me.”
“I ask you to trust me. To trust us.” Ava reached up to cup his face in her hands. “I know the odds are terrible. I know we might all die anyway. But if we don't try, if we run away and let Valroy slaughter everyone? Everything? Not just innocent people? There won’t be a world for us.”
“I know.” His voice was barely audible. “I know what the ‘right’ choice is. I have always known. I simply do not care.”
“Then why won't you make it?”
“Because you matter more to me.” He cringed. “Because for the first time in millennia, I have something to lose. Something worth protecting. And the thought of losing that, of losing you…”
“You won't lose me. Whatever happens, however bad it gets, you won't lose me. I promise.”
“You cannot promise that.”
“Watch me.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him, pouring all of her love and determination into the contact. When she pulled back, her voice was steady. “I promise you, Serrik. Whatever you become, whoever you have to be to stop this—I will love you. All of you.”
Serrik stared at her for a long moment, his golden eyes bright with unshed tears. Then, slowly, he nodded. “As you wish…however. If I go too far…”
“You won’t.”
“But if I do,” he continued firmly, “you must take actions to stop me. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to protect those worth protecting.”
The implication was clear. If he lost himself to his so-called impulses, she'd have to be the one to destroy him.
Ava felt her heart clench, but she nodded. “I understand.”
“Good.” Serrik took her hands in his, his touch gentle despite the sharpness of his claws.
And if they were going to face the end of everything, she'd rather do it with him by her side than watch him run away from the only chance they had to save everyone they cared about.
Including themselves.
Even if it destroyed them both in the process.
It would be double or nothing, it seemed.
“Tell me if you mean your words, Weaver.” Serrik’s hand settled at the base of her throat, his fingers resting on one side, his thumb on the other. “I will follow you regardless—lie or not—but I must know. Tell me if they are the truth.”
“Which ones?” The warmth of his touch—the strength in it—immediately made her cheeks go warm.
He took a step into her, forcing her to retreat. And another. “Your words of love. Your insistence that you wish to see me…feel me…have me…endure me…as my monstrous self.”
Her stomach dropped into a pit.
God, yes.
Fuck, yes.
What had she done?
The warring excitement and fear coiled together into a ball in her like a pit of snakes. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I meant every word...”
“Then I intend to test your honesty.” His golden eyes bored into her—through her. And slowly, like the waning of a dream, his glamor began to fade, and more golden eyes appeared as his form began to shift. “And we shall see come the dawn if you change your mind about a great many things, indeed.”
Oh, fucknuggets.
Ava was in for it now.