Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Alice
Every muscle ached. Too tired to move. Too tired to think.
I lay on a grassy hill. Or maybe a mountain. I couldn’t tell anymore.
Mist floated above me, cold and heavy. So cold. My blood had turned to ice. I couldn’t stop shivering.
Was this dying? Was this what it felt like to fade away?
Find me.
That voice. Those words.
Warmth spread through me like a blanket wrapping around my frozen body. The shivering slowed.
The mist above me began to clear, parting like curtains. Sunlight broke through—bright, so bright I had to squint.
But something was wrong.
There were two suns. Two burning orbs hanging in the sky.
I blinked. The suns shifted. Changed. The fiery orange cooled, dimming, transforming into glowing silver.
Not suns.
Eyes.
Silver eyes, staring down at me.
Come back to me.
My eyes fluttered open.
Someone was kissing me. Soft. Gentle. Like I was something precious.
I breathed him in—pine and something wild. Something that felt like home.
Darius.
I opened my eyes and there he was. Pale. Tired. Beautiful. My heart cracked open at the sight of him.
“Darius.” I reached up and slipped my hand through his hair. “You’re alive.”
“Because of you.”
“I don’t... I don’t know how I’m doing this.”
“Ah.” Caterpillar’s voice drifted over us, slow and measured. “The oldest riddle of all.” A curl of smoke floated past. “What makes the weak strong? What makes the fearful brave? What can stop time, cheat death, and move mountains—yet cannot be held in your hand?”
I blinked at him, too exhausted for riddles.
“The answer, little witch, is the same reason you came back.” His half-lidded eyes glittered. “The same reason he dragged himself across this cavern with an arrow wound in his side.”
My head was still foggy, thoughts swimming like fish through murky water.
He’d done that? Dragged himself across the cavern? For me?
No. I pushed the flutter of hope down before it could take root. He only came to thank me. Maybe out of guilt for me being wounded. That’s all this was. Gratitude. Obligation.
Men like Darius didn’t fall for broken witches who couldn’t control their magic. Men like him didn’t want disasters waiting to happen.
Hell, look at Angelo Santi. The vampire king made witches who couldn’t control their power disappear. No trial. No second chances. Just... gone.
Why would Darius be any different?
Darius’ hand tightened on mine. “I can’t believe you risked your life for me. Don’t do that again.” He searched my eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“Love,” Caterpillar said softly. “The most illogical, irrational, powerful magic of all. It cannot be taught. Cannot be controlled.” A slow exhale. “And apparently... cannot be stopped.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. Love? No. That was ridiculous. I barely knew Darius. I couldn’t—
But my heart was pounding. And I couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
Love wasn't for people like me. People with broken magic and broken pasts. People who destroyed everything they touched. Darius deserved better than a witch who couldn't control her own power. Who'd almost died because she didn't know what she was doing.
Caterpillar was wrong. That’s not why Darius made his way over here. Not for love. Not for me.
He’d come out of obligation. Guilt. And now he was pulling away, just like I knew he would.
I blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall. “Fine. Next time I’ll let you die.”
His face hardened, but he didn’t have a response.
Neither Caterpillar nor Chester came back with a snappy comeback or a riddle.
Doc dabbed my forehead with a rag. “How are you feeling, Alice?”
“Tired.” And heartbroken. But I kept that little tidbit to myself.
Grump and another man carried a cot over toward me. They set it next to mine.
“Don’t plan on carrying your ass across the cavern again, Hatter,” Grump said. “Now crawl back in bed before you pass out. I’ve got enough to worry about without you bleeding all over my floor.”
Darius slid off my cot onto his. His arms were shaking, and he looked like he was about to pass out again.
The minute he hit the cot, he was out.
He'd dragged himself across the cavern with an arrow wound. For me. And now he looked half-dead again. I told myself I didn't care. The lie sat heavy in my throat.
Doc hurried over and pressed his hand to Darius’ forehead. Then listened to his heart. “He’s stable. Just needs rest. That was too much for him—coming all the way across the cavern like that.”
I sighed heavily. “I don’t know why he did it just to tell me not to do it again.”
Caterpillar exhaled a lazy curl of smoke.
“Curious, isn’t it? A man who cannot walk.
.. walks. A man who cannot stand... stands.
A man bleeding from a poisoned wound drags himself across a cavern.
” His half-lidded eyes found mine. “All to tell you not to risk yourself for him.” A slow blink.
“What kind of man does such a foolish thing, I wonder?”
“A stubborn one,” I muttered.
“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Or perhaps... a man who cannot bear the thought of losing you. Even if he doesn’t have the words to say it.”
I looked over at Darius. His dark hair was damp with sweat, curling against his forehead. His face was pale—too pale—the sharp angles of his cheekbones more pronounced than before. Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes. Bandages wrapped his torso, spots of crimson seeping through.
He looked broken. Exhausted. Half dead.
And he’d dragged himself across a cavern just to see me.
Caterpillar’s words settled into my chest like a seed taking root. But what if Caterpillar was wrong?
What if I let myself believe—let myself hope—and Darius pushed me away? I'd survived a lot, but I wasn't sure I could survive that.
Doc stood up. “Alice, you need to eat to build up your strength. I’ll return with some stew.”
I wanted to argue. What I needed was silence. Space to sort through the tangled mess in my head—Caterpillar's words, Darius' raw voice, the terrifying possibility that I might actually feel something for the man lying unconscious beside me. But my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.
Chester materialized beside my cot, his grin floating ahead of him. “Eating while lying down. A curious challenge. Food goes in, food comes out—but not always in the direction one hopes.” His golden eyes glittered. “Unless you’d prefer to sit up? Or shall we see how stew looks on a blanket?”
“I’ll sit up,” I said. Chester slid an arm behind my back while Caterpillar steadied me by the elbow, easing me upright.
My dress was soaked through with sweat, clinging to my skin like a second layer. Cold and clammy. Every time I shifted, the damp fabric pulled and twisted, sticking to places it shouldn’t. My hair was matted against my neck and forehead.
No wonder Darius had turned away. I probably looked—and smelled—like something dragged out of a sewer.
Caterpillar could spin all the riddles about love he wanted. One look at me like this and any man would run the other direction.
“Is there any way I can change out of this dress?” I looked between Chester and Caterpillar. “I feel like a drowned rat.”
I'd noticed it earlier—the camp was all men. Soldiers, rebels, outlaws. Not a woman in sight. Still, I'd hoped someone might have something.
Chester’s grin widened. “Dresses, dresses, dresses. Such lovely things. Flowing and feminine and...” He tilted his head. “Completely absent from our humble hideaway.”
I blinked. “What?”
“No women here, little witch. Just us rough, grumpy men playing at rebellion.” His golden eyes glittered with amusement. “We have tunics. Trousers. Shirts that smell faintly of sweat and campfire.” A pause. “Lovely options, really.”
“So no dress.”
Thank god. Dresses and I had never gotten along—and after wrestling with that corset, I was happy to never wear one again.
“No dress.” His grin stretched impossibly wider. “But look on the bright side—trousers are much better for running. And in this place, running happens rather often.”
Caterpillar exhaled slowly. “I believe Archer is closest to her size. His spare clothes would drown her less than the others.”
“That would be perfect.” Relief flooded through me. Anything was better than this cold, clingy mess. “Thank you.”
Chester’s body began to fade, leaving only his grin. “Gratitude. How refreshing. Most people just demand.” The grin winked out. “I’ll return before you miss me. Which, of course, you will.”
“Water,” Caterpillar said, the word curling out like smoke. “A bowl. A cloth. Small comforts in an uncomfortable world.” He tilted his head. “Washing won’t restore what you’ve lost. But it may remind you that you’re still alive.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you. Really.”
At least Caterpillar and Chester weren’t rejecting me. They’d watched over me while I was unconscious. Offered me clothes and water without question. Treated me like I mattered.
With them, I didn’t feel like a liability. Didn’t feel like I was one mistake away from being cast out.
Only Darius made me feel broken.
And somehow, that hurt worst of all.