Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Darius
Alice clung to me, and I held on tight to her. Her whole body trembled against mine, small and fragile in a way she’d never let herself be before.
No one should have to endure such a nightmare. When she'd first told me about the dream, I'd assumed it was just that—a dream. Fragments of memory, maybe. Twisted by time and trauma. Not literal. Not true. But based on Grump's revelations, they were only too real.
Every horrific detail.
King Cormac was ruthless. A half-breed child—part witch, part Unseelie—would have been a threat to his throne. Of course he’d sent someone to destroy her. To destroy them both.
I thought about what Alice said. The man’s voice. Cold. Commanding.
A face formed in my mind. A face I had buried deep, locked away where it couldn’t touch me.
Someone I should never have forgotten.
My blood ran cold.
Grump dragged his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know anyone in the Elder Dimension that has the power to wield fire.”
“Corina wasn’t murdered in the Elder Dimension,” I said. “And since you destroyed the portal, none of Cormac’s men could get through.”
Alice sniffed and pulled away from me. Her red-rimmed eyes searched my face. “But it was in our world.”
“I know.” Her tear-filled face fueled an anger I didn’t even know I had. “I should have realized when you first told me about your nightmare. But I had forgotten him.”
Alice went still. “Him? You know who killed my mother?”
The name sat like poison on my tongue.
“I think I do. Faas. He’s a Dark Demon. He was one of King Ryder’s key commanders when Ryder and Cormac were trying to conquer Alice’s world.”
“You mean like Ari?” Grump asked.
“Yes, but he’s not a shape shifter like Ari. His power is fire. He can throw fireballs.”
Alice’s face went pale. “I know of him. We fought him in the last battle in New Orleans when we tried to rescue Joy from the Elder Dimension.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of him.”
“Because you were three when your mother died,” I said. “You heard a voice. You didn’t see a face.”
Grump’s hands curled into fists. A vein pulsed at his temple. He looked ready to tear the cavern apart with his bare hands. “Tell me he died in that battle.”
Alice shook her head. “No, like Ari, he escaped.”
My fists clenched. Another monster who slipped through the cracks. Another debt left unpaid.
Grump narrowed his eyes. “Where is he now?”
Alice folded her arms, her shoulders sagging. “I don’t know. After the battle, we lost track of him.”
“How could you lose track of him?” Grump demanded, his voice rising. “He murdered your mother.”
Caterpillar exhaled a slow stream of smoke.
“How... can one lose... what one never knew to find?” His ancient eyes settled on Grump.
“The girl did not know her mother was murdered. Did not know her father lived. Did not know... anything.” Another curl of smoke drifted upward.
“You cannot blame her for not chasing ghosts... she did not know existed.”
Grump cracked his neck as if readying for a fight. But something in Caterpillar’s words caught him. He stilled, then turned back to Alice, still seething.
I felt Alice flinch. Something hot and protective surged through my chest.
I stepped in front of her, putting my body between her and her father’s rage. I didn’t care how weak I was. Didn’t care that my side screamed in protest or that my legs threatened to buckle. No one. But no one. Disrespected her like that.
“She didn’t know anything, Grump, until she came here.”
“I don’t care,” Grump said. “She was my mate. She would have been queen.”
“Would have been. Could have been. Should have been.” Chester’s voice cut through the tension, soft and sharp all at once. His grin was gone, his luminous eyes unblinking. “So many ways to live in the past, Grump. So few ways to hold what’s standing right in front of you.”
He tilted his head, that unnerving owl-like twist. “You lost a mate. Tragic. Terrible. True. But here stands your daughter—alive, breathing, here—and you’re too busy mourning the dead to see her.” His voice dropped. “How very mad of you. And not the good kind.”
“Shut up, Chester,” Grump snapped.
Alice murmured behind me, her voice small. “I didn’t have any dreams of her until I came here. Had a little problem with my magic.”
Grump’s eyes blazed with anger. He looked like he wanted to murder someone. Anyone. “That’s more important than finding your mother’s killer? She was fucking burned alive.”
Alice edged away from me. I glanced over my shoulder, and her crestfallen face broke something in me.
No one talked to her that way.
I shoved Grump hard. He stumbled backward, surprise flickering in his eyes. No one ever stood up to him like this.
“Back off, Grump.” My wings flapped out. I’d carry Alice away from here, and he’d never see his daughter again.
“She sacrificed everything for you.” Grump growled. “Everything.” He glared at Alice. “And you just—let him go.”
“You walked away too, Grump, and look what fucking happened.”
Something snapped in him. Grump lunged at me, his fist connecting with my jaw. Pain cracked through my skull, and I staggered sideways.
I tasted blood. Spat it out.
I should have walked away. Should have been the rational one. But rationality had left the moment I saw Alice’s face crumble.
I swung back.
My fist slammed into his ribs and he grunted, doubling over. But he recovered fast—faster than I expected—and tackled me to the ground. My injured side screamed in agony. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision.
But all I could think about was Alice and how he hurt her. That thought sent adrenaline pumping through me. The pain forgotten.
We rolled across the stone floor, fists and elbows and rage. Somewhere behind us, Alice was crying. I could hear her—small, broken sounds that cut deeper than any blow Grump could land.
He pinned me down, his hands around my throat.
“She was everything to me,” he snarled, his face inches from mine. “Everything.”
“And Alice was everything to her.” I choked out the words. “Corina died to save her. Is this how you honor that?”
He shook his head—the truth hitting him. Or grief finding a new target.
I used the moment to shove him off. We both lay there, panting, bleeding.
“Darius!” Alice’s voice cut through the haze.
I turned my head. She stood frozen, tears streaming down her face, her whole body trembling. Chester hovered near her, his grin absent, his luminous eyes watchful.
Get up.
I forced myself to my feet. My side screamed. My jaw throbbed. My legs felt like they might give out at any moment.
But Alice was still crying.
I crossed to her, each step harder than the last. “We’re leaving.”
“Darius, you’re hurt—”
“Hold on to me.”
I didn’t give her time to argue. I grabbed her and swept her into my arms.
Pain exploded through my body—white-hot, blinding. I heard someone shouting behind us. Caterpillar’s slow voice. The Uncrowned Seven moving to restrain Grump.
None of it mattered.
I launched us into the air, wings beating hard, and flew to the far end of the cavern. The landing was rough. My legs buckled and I nearly dropped her, catching myself against the stone wall at the last moment.
“Darius.” Alice’s hands found my shoulders, steadying me. “Sit down. Please.”
I lowered myself onto a rocky outcrop, my breathing ragged. Alice knelt beside me, her fingers ghosting over the bruise already forming on my jaw.
“You fought him,” she whispered. “For me.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. I didn’t know why I’d done it. Didn’t know why seeing her hurt had driven every rational thought from my head.
That wasn’t like me. I was the Hatter—calculated, strategic, always three moves ahead.
But when Grump had turned on her, I hadn’t thought at all. I’d just... acted. I’d never felt like that about any woman before.
“You shouldn’t have,” she said softly. “You’re already injured. You could have—”
“He was wrong.” I didn’t even hesitate. “What he said to you. How he treated you. It was wrong.”
Alice’s eyes searched my face. Looking for something. I didn’t know if she found it.
“Why do you care so much?”
The question was like a cannon going off in my head. Loud. Dangerous.
I looked away. What I wanted to say was you matter to me. What came out was safer. “You’re one of us now. The hat accepted you. That means something.”
It was a deflection. Something a coward would say. But she didn’t push. Just nodded slowly and turned her attention to the blood on my chin.
She opened the linen chest and pulled out a clean cloth. “Let me clean this up.”
I let her. And tried not to think about why her hands on my face made my chest ache in ways that had nothing to do with my injuries.
“I’ll get some water to clean you up.”
“There’s a pitcher by the bed,” I said. No need for her to go anywhere.
I clasped her wrist and pulled her against my chest. “No.”
She lifted a slender brow. “You don’t want to be cleaned up?”
“It’s not because you’re one of us, Alice, that I fought for you. It’s not because the hat branded you.”
Confusion flared in her eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“Because you’re mine, Fate. And no one hurts what’s mine.”
The confession landed between us like a stone dropped into calm water. Alice went still. I went still.
What the hell did I just say?
I avoided her gaze. I hadn’t meant to say that. Hadn’t even known I felt it until the words were already out, hanging in the air where I couldn’t take them back.
Alice didn’t speak. Her fingers trembled against my jaw.
“Darius...”
“Don’t.” I swallowed hard. “Just... Don’t.”
She didn’t push. Just nodded slowly and turned her attention to the blood on my chin.
But something had shifted between us. Something I wasn’t ready to name.