Jeb is wounded . . . but he can be saved. Morpheus will do the right thing.
Morpheus will show no mercy, Red contradicts in my mind. He’ll do anything for Wonderland. That is his priority. That is why I chose him to be our king. That, and the fact that because of his childhood with you, he can father a dream-child. What a profoundly perfect twist of fate that turned out to be.
Another thread snaps loose from my heart, the pain precise and acute. I embrace it, because it reminds me I’m still here. I’m alive. I’m empowered.
Determination boils in my blood, scalding my skin. I concentrate on my fingers, forcing them to squeeze Morpheus’s hand.
His eyes widen. He looks from me to the medallion Hart’s holding. A muscle in his jaw twitches.
“Make a choice,” Hart seethes. “Either the human gives his life, or Wonderland belongs to the denizens of the looking-glass world.”
Morpheus looks at the crowd of deranged guests salivating and brutal, then down at Jeb’s kneeling form. The blood on Jeb’s chin has dribbled to the T-shirt under his tuxedo vest, bright red against the white fabric.
My feet twitch . . . My legs ache . . . My stomach knots. Every part of me slowly wakes, but my vocal cords shrivel under Red’s clutches. I fight for the use of my limbs. Her vines hold me too high; I can’t get my feet on the ground. A grinding sensation shuttles through my bones as punishment for even trying. Red winds my arms within her ivy and pins them to my sides.
A whimper dies in my throat.
Memory nudges beneath the pain. A reminder that I overpowered her once before. I move, ignoring the splitting sensation inside me, and clamp my fingers around a vine. I tug it. Rivulets of blood spurt from where the ivy stretches my skin.
Another one of my heart’s seams snap . . . then another and another. I yelp from the excruciating burn. I can’t tear her out without ripping my own heart in half.
Defeated, I go limp.
“Hurry,” Red says aloud, using me as her mouthpiece, desperate now. “Kill the boy, and she’ll be your queen forever, Morpheus. Simple as that.”
“Give me his life-clock!” Hart shouts to Morpheus. She holds the medallion high, swinging it like a pendulum to tempt him.
Morpheus grips Jeb’s vest and forces him to stand. Jeb wavers, unbalanced by the inability to see. He strains against the cuffs binding his hands. He kicks his legs blindly in self-defense.
Morpheus turns his gaze to me, the black depths filled with so much remorse I know what he’s going to say before he even says it. “Alyssa, forgive me. But I will always do what’s best for Wonderland.”
“No!” I shout, freeing my vocal cords at last.
The crowd surges, provoking the guards and goon birds to strengthen their barricade.
Still holding Jeb’s vest, Morpheus glances over his shoulder at the chaos. “Now!” he shouts.
Chessie and Nikki appear from out of nowhere, hovering over Hart. Nikki distracts the queen as Chessie dips down and snags the medallion, taking off toward the gate. Manti sends the doppelganger after the feline fae. The crowd’s fervor reaches manic intensity as they turn on the royal party and the stage.
Hart screams and Manti drags her toward the castle for safety.
Red screeches in my head. The sound guts my inner ears like a chain saw set loose, sending me in a vertigo tailspin.
The surroundings blur as if I were riding a spinning top. I can make out snippets: Red’s vines whipping out and slapping Morpheus and Jeb off balance; Morpheus tumbling over his wings and hitting his head, his eyes lolling shut; Jeb, tripping over the rock behind him and sending it over the edge.
The chains attached to the rock jerk his body from the stage. He plummets toward the pool. Nikki dives after him, trying to wrangle the chains, then plunges into the water behind him.
My twirling vision comes to a stop as Jeb flails at the surface. The depths suck him down, swallowing him—my best friend, my devoted love, the guy who has given up everything for me, more times than I can count.
The water churns with acidic, red bubbles.
I look away, sobbing, too weak to watch what’s left of him rise to the top. I keep hearing his voice in my head from a year ago, the first time we kissed. We were in Wonderland and I asked him not to break my heart. And his answer was, “I’d cut mine out first.”
He can’t be gone. This can’t be real. This is all a nightmare.
Everything moves around me in slow motion: Morpheus lying unconscious on the stage, the crazed guests closing in, overpowering the guards and goons.
All the good in me dies. All the compassion and mercy sink into the darkest part of my soul. The color of blood replaces them, a swirling, snarling tide I want to swim in forever.
The guests press through to the stage and the guards and goon birds retreat.
Cowards . . .