Chapter 13 Where There’s Red, There’s White
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHERE THERE’S RED, THERE’S WHITE
Our escape is nearly over when the sound of hounds rends the air. Finlo looks over his shoulder, worry spreading on his beautiful face.
Lewis grinds his teeth. “Oh, no. The Queen’s Hounds.
Prospero isn’t with us, but if she realizes we took him, what price will we pay?
“Where did Prospero go?” I ask them.
We keep walking, hastening only slightly at the sound of the hounds.
“Wherever he goes,” Finlo answers in a riddle.
“It feels strange to have freed a creature who disappeared right after,” I mutter, to which neither of them replies.
The more we walk, the further away the sounds of the hounds get, and I’m thankful.
The trees on the way back to Hatter’s place are close to the road, and I swear I hear one of them moan when I get too close.
Finlo snatches the back of my new yellow dress and puts me in front of him without saying a word.
“Prospero is a creature that cannot be contained, lest it cause damage to Wonderland. The queen knows that and should never have touched him,” a voice says as a hound steps out of the woods to our right, stopping us in our tracks.
“Winston,” Finlo replies, bowing his head. “How are you, old chap?”
Even though Finlo seems to know the hound, I inch closer to Lewis, grabbing his paw in my hand for comfort. Lewis smiles up at me. “He’s one of us,” he whispers.
One of us?
The statement strikes me oddly.
“I’ve been alright. Keeping a low profile in the palace isn’t easy. You would know that, though,” Winston replies.
“I do,” Finlo answers. “Your family is alright?”
“They are.”
“Why have you broken away from the others to come here?” Lewis asks, dropping my hand to walk closer to Winston.
He’s a dark-colored dog with smatterings of brown freckles through his coat. His droopy eyes mark him as a bloodhound, along with his long, droopy ears. “I came to warn you.”
“Warn us?”
“The Red Queen found the missing scroll.”
Finlo straightens, and I wonder what underlying mystery I’ve wandered into. I thought that Wonderland was some world of whimsical mayhem with no rhyme or reason, and I seem to have stumbled into something far more sinister.
“She couldn’t have,” Lewis says.
“She has,” Winston replies quickly.
“She’ll kill Eleanor, Hatter,” Lewis says, and I take a step back before realizing I’m far too close to a tree.
“Yesssss, come closer, love. That’s it, one more step.” The tree moans.
Finlo turns, grasping my wrist and tugging me closer. “She will do no such thing,” he says, returning his attention to Winston.
“She will. She knows what happens before Frabjous Day. The prophecy alone has her in a rage.”
“How did she find the scroll?” Lewis asks.
“Not everyone is a friend,” Winston riddles.
Finlo tightens his grasp on my wrist, keeping me close. “Prospero.”
The bloodhound nods.
“What is Frabjous Day?” I ask.
“You knew keeping her here would only set things back in motion, Hatter. You should’ve returned her like the other times,” Winston says.
Finlo swallows, hanging his head in defeat. “What can we do? How do I hide her?”
The bloodhound only scoffs. “Still so in love that it blinds you.”
“The White Queen. She’ll know what to do,” Lewis says.
“The White Queen is days of travel,” Finlo replies.
“What other option do we have?” Lewis pins him with a no-nonsense glare.
I, who has no idea what’s going on, tug my wrist from Finlo, only to interlace our fingers together for comfort. “I think we should go to the White Queen and ask for help.”
Finlo eyes me, something warm bleeding through his gaze.
“As ignorant as I think this is,” Winston mutters. “I’ll come for you at midnight. Be ready to travel.” With that, the bloodhound turns and breaks into a run, shoving through the woods and howling as he rejoins the race to find Prospero.
Lewis excuses himself, telling Hatter he needs to prepare for the trip and says he’ll return to us at nightfall.
We walk a few more miles before I gain the nerve to speak. “What is Frabjous Day?”
“It’s a day that has been foretold since the dawn of Wonderland.”
Well, that gives me a lot of information.
“And what happens on this day?”
“It’s the celebratory day after you slay the queen’s favorite pet, the Chatterwocky.”
I laugh. “Well, that’s nonsense. I don’t even know what a Chatterwocky is.”
Suddenly, I’m hit with the flashes of images of the queen on the back of some beast, one that resembles a dragon.
I swallow. “I can’t slay a… a monster.”
“Can’t you?”
We reach what I now know as The Bog and Hatter turns on me. “You’re the most magical creature in all of Wonderland, Eleanor. The Red Queen fears your power. You are a threat to her.”
“I don’t have power.” I scoff in disbelief.
“Don’t you? What was this morning?”
“Well, I… that was different. That was only…” I swallow, not knowing how the hell to dig myself out of this rut I’ve gotten myself into.
Finlo steps closer. “You took me to my knees.”
I’m breathless. “I know, but that was... different.”
His hand cups my cheek. “No. It wasn’t. You are the most fascinating creature I’ve ever met, even then. Now, you’re… more. I can’t lose you, and I can’t take you back. You are my weakness, Tiger Lily.”
His lips hover over mine, and I can’t breathe with him in my space. “I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to be so bold. It’s just this burning in me. I can’t take it.”
“I understand.”
Does he?
“The fire in me went out the day I...” He closes his eyes, fighting whatever memory he’s conjured.
“Tell me. Tell me the end of the story.”
“I cannot. You will remember when the time is right.”
I growl. “How am I to continue like this? I don’t have all the pieces to the puzzle, and yet you want me to put it together and save your world or kill some dragony beast?
I’m just Eleanor! Don’t you see that? I’m only Eleanor.
I don’t have magic or power. I’m a mortal girl who fell into your world in a moment of weakness—”
Hatter stops my spiralling with his lips on mine, something I taught him. I’m rather thankful I had, too. The kiss gives me something to channel all the energy spilling through me into.
The kiss deepens, and Hatter lifts me, walking to the tea table and dropping me atop it. Dishes lift and slam back down, causing a clatter.
“You’ve never been just Eleanor. I wish you could see what all of Wonderland sees. I wish you could see you through my eyes.”
His words cause tears to well in my eyes before he kisses me again. This time, he’s in control of it and me. His tongue curls through my mouth, causing me to moan.
Wetness coats my thighs, my undergarments lost to all the growing and shrinking I did today to save Prospero.
Finlo’s hand slides up my dress, and I break our kiss to watch him.
“You said when I was ready, you would make me come,” he says.
I nod frantically, the imagery of his cock in my mouth causing it to water in anticipation.
“What if I want to make you come?”
My breathing stutters.
“Would you allow that?” he asks, and it’s so proper I could laugh, but I don’t want to make any wrong move that could stop his exploration of my body with his hand.
“Yes!” I breathe, barely unable to contain the eagerness in my voice.
“The entire time that your hand cupped your perfect sex, I watched. I studied. I wanted to be the one making you cry out.”
Oh, fuck.
I grow wetter as his hand finally presses my legs wider. “You’re not the Eleanor from before. That Eleanor wasn’t ready for the love I had to give her. This one is.”
This Eleanor is questioning if she’s ready, in all honesty, but I keep my lips sealed shut.
He foregoes pleasantries and wiggles his fingers against my entrance, which is pressed against the tea table too firmly for him to enter me.
Scooting back, I lean back on my elbows, gasping when he shoves two fingers inside. “Fin!”
His grin isn’t lucid. Once again, he’s the Mad Hatter, hosting tea in The Bog with chaos looming. Though this time, I’m the main event. The topic of conversation. The all-consuming tea being drunk.
His pace evens as he watches me lift and writhe against his hand, helping him find the perfect rhythm.
“You’re so wet here,” he says, his eyes watching his fingers sink inside my center.
Something about his innocence is more alluring. It has a fucked-up side of me wanting to teach him everything. To mold him into my perfect little fuck toy.
I shake away from the thought, thinking myself as deranged as some of Wonderland’s residents. When Fin’s hand grinds against my clit like he’d witnessed mine do, I’m a goner.
Lying back, I lift my dress and bare my breasts, playing with one of my nipples to add a bite of pain to the pleasure he’s wringing from me.
“So wet and perfect,” he breathes, still transfixed by my arousal, by the feel of my sex on his hand.
Moaning, I place my hand over his, using the leverage to drive myself higher and higher, riding him harder.
Leaning over me, he captures my lips with his in a spellbinding kiss.
Moans spill from the trees surrounding The Bog, and their mewling has my orgasm prickling to the surface.
“The trees like flesh,” he reminds me.
“Yes!”
“Are you going to come?” he asks, his tone gravelled and so fucking deep.
I nod frantically. “Yes!”
“I wonder what you’d taste like here,” he says, crooking his fingers against my G-spot unknowingly and causing me to erupt around them.
“Fin!” I cry out, coming undone like one of his spools of thread, the orgasm nothing like this morning that I gave myself.
Nothing will ever be the same after the Mad Hatter has made me come. No man will ever compare.
A rapturous moan spills from a tree, and Finlo grins against my lips. “Your head is always beautiful, but I like it when you scream my name from it.”
Shit!
Even when he’s not trying, Finlo undoes me.
“Anyone could’ve seen,” I realize, looking around.
“Best tea party I’ve ever put on,” Fin says, nibbling my ear.
I forget all about the possible audience, especially the man-cat lurking just beyond the trees, and turn my attention back to him.
I open my mouth to ask if he’d like me to reciprocate, but he straightens and helps me off the table and to my feet. “Come. We have to pack our things. Midnight approaches.”
The strange bubble of whatever we were just floating in bursts, and I’m dragged back to the reality of a queen who wants to kill me and another who might hide me.
Pure lunacy.