Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Alice
Mine.
I never thought I was worthy to be loved. To be protected. To have someone look at me as if I were the most precious thing in their world.
My throat tightened, an ache spreading through my chest.
Darius had thrown himself in front of me when Grump attacked—wounded, bleeding, barely able to stand—and still he’d fought. Still he’d put his body between me and danger as if there were no other option. As if protecting me was as natural as breathing.
And somehow that was my fault?
Tinker Bell had come close, had been the nearest thing to a mother I’d ever known, but somewhere along the way I’d become more liability than family. Something to manage. Something to worry about.
But Darius... he looked at me like I mattered. Like I was his.
The word echoed through me, foreign and terrifying and wonderful all at once.
Across the cavern, the Uncrowned Seven, Caterpillar, and Chester struggled to contain Grump, whose accusations still rang in my ears—screaming at me for not hunting my mother’s killer. A mother I never knew existed until I crossed into the Elder Dimension.
As if I’d had a choice. As if I’d known.
Darius tracked their movements, his body coiled tight, ready to launch back into the fight.
I braced my hands on his shoulders. “Sit before you fall down.”
His face was a mess—bruised and already swelling toward a black eye, an ugly mark on his chin, his lip cracked and bleeding.
“I’m fine.”
“Darius, please.”
He wobbled, then sat down, his legs stretched out in front of him. He panted hard as if trying to not pass out. His face was flushed.
I snatched a cloth from the nearest chest and knelt beside him, dabbing at the blood dripping down his lip. My fingers trembled. When had my hands started shaking?
“Stop,” he muttered. “It hurts.”
I yanked my hand back. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Where doesn’t it hurt?”
He lifted his palm and pointed to his wrist. “Here.”
I cradled his wrist in my hands, staring at the vulnerable stretch of skin. The veins. The faint bruises. The steady thrum of his pulse.
I shouldn't. This was too soft. Too revealing.
I brought his wrist to my lips anyway, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin where his pulse beat steady and warm. He tensed beneath my touch, a sharp intake of breath escaping him.
Relief washed over me. He was alive, he was here, he was letting me take care of him.
"Where else doesn't it hurt?"
His silver eyes held mine, something raw flickering in their depths. He pointed to his forehead. “This doesn’t hurt too bad.”
I leaned in and kissed his forehead, breathing him in. Smoke and blood and something underneath that was just him.
His eyes fluttered closed. A low sound escaped his throat—not quite a groan, but close.
He wanted this. Wanted me.
The realization sent heat curling through my belly.
He pointed to his other cheek. “Here.”
I kissed his cheek, letting my lips linger. My heart felt too large for my ribs, pressing against bone.
He touched his lips. “This.”
I started to close the distance between us, but something warm and wet smeared against my skin. I pulled back, my stomach dropping. “It’s bleeding.”
“I don’t care.”
Neither did I. Not anymore.
I kissed him on the lips, tasting copper and heat. Not stolen this time. Given freely. His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, and I melted into him—this demon who had fought for me, bled for me, looked at me like I was worth protecting.
Like I was his.
Soft footsteps approached from behind me. I jerked back from Darius, heat flooding my cheeks. I glanced over my shoulder and found Grump standing there, his head bowed.
My heart stuttered. I turned and edged closer to Darius. He clasped my hand immediately, his grip tight, tension coiled through him. He’d launch into another attack if he thought Grump would hurt me again.
“What do you want?” Darius growled.
Hatred rolled off Grump. The way he’d screamed at me, blamed me for not going after Faas. As if I should have hunted down the killer of a mother I never knew I had. As if I owed him vengeance when I was still trying to make sense of my own grief.
But he was the only parent I had left, the father I never had. What if he never wanted me now?
The thought cut deeper than any wound.
Grump raised his head. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face haggard. He looked like a man hollowed out from the inside.
“To apologize.” He gaze fell on me, and his voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, Alice. I was wrecked with grief. To think...” He clenched his jaw as if fighting for control. “How she died. I just wanted revenge. I needed someone to blame.”
He lowered himself to his knees. “But you’re not to blame. It was Faas’ fault, and he’s the only one that needs to pay. Can you forgive me?”
The anger I expected didn’t come. Instead, something else swelled in my chest—something complicated and heavy. He had loved her. However misguided his rage, it came from the same place as my own hollow ache.
My throat burned. I wanted to say yes. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hold on tight, to claim this piece of family I never knew I had. I’d spent my whole life on the outside looking in, aching for someone to want me.
He was my father. And I couldn’t bear to lose him.
My mother’s screams echoed in my mind, and I took a sobering breath. “I forgive you.” I clasped his hand. “I want Faas to pay too.”
His fingers tightened around mine, and something in his face broke open—relief, gratitude, grief all tangled together. He bowed his head over our joined hands, his shoulders shaking.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
I didn't know what to do with this. Minutes ago he'd been screaming at me. Now he was breaking apart in my hands. My throat tightened.
Darius’ grip on my other hand loosened. When I glanced at him, the hard edge in his expression had softened. He gave me the slightest nod—not approval exactly, but something like understanding. He knew what this meant to me.
I exhaled, something in me settling. I hadn't realized how much I needed him to be okay with this.
Grump’s eyes clouded. “I don’t want to lose you to our enemies like I did your mother. We can’t always protect you. You need to learn how to protect yourself from them.”
I looked between him and Darius. Grump's tear-streaked face. Darius' bruised jaw. The blood. The tension still crackling in the air.
It seemed impossible. But so had everything else since I fell through that mirror. “How?”
“You need to learn not only how to control your magic, but wield a weapon,” he said.
My stomach dropped. A weapon? My magic wasn’t enough? Tinker Bell had never needed a weapon. She’d always told me my power would be more than enough—once I learned to control it. Had she been wrong? Or had she just been kind?
Grump released my hand. “Darius, take her to the armory.”
Darius slowly stood, and my heart lurched. He was unsteady on his feet, his face still too pale, his jaw tight with the effort of staying upright. He had almost died. He should be resting, not escorting me anywhere.
“What are you doing?” I clasped his arm, half to steady him, half to stop him. “You can barely stand.”
“Here in the Elder Dimension, the weapon chooses you. I’m taking you to find yours.” His voice was soft, but certain. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and before I could argue, his golden wings flapped out and we launched toward the cavern wall.
Stone rushed toward us. Solid. Unmoving.
“Darius, we’re going to crash!”
“Trust me, Fate.”
I squeezed my eyes shut—and felt nothing. No impact. No pain. Just a whisper of cool air against my skin.
When I opened my eyes, we were somewhere else entirely.
Darius and I landed in a cave, and my breath caught.
Weapons lined every wall—swords, daggers, axes, maces, bows, spears—more than I could count, more than I could name.
Some gleamed like they’d been forged yesterday.
Others looked ancient, their hilts wrapped in cracked leather, their blades etched with symbols I didn’t recognize.
The air smelled of iron and dust and something older. Something waiting.
No guns, though. Bullets were useless against certain supernaturals like vampires.
Darius lowered himself onto a rock, and I didn’t miss the way his hand trembled, the way he exhaled like even that small movement cost him. He was pushing too hard.
And it was my fault.
“Hold out your hand.” He motioned toward the weapons. “Listen for yours to speak to you.”
I stared at him. “Speak to me?”
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite his exhaustion. “Listen for the words ‘find me.’”
My breath caught. The same words that had pulled me through the mirror. The same voice that had called me here—to him.
“Seriously?” I looked at the hundreds of weapons surrounding us. “What is it about those words?”
“It’s about you finding yourself. The weapon that calls to you reflects who you are. Who you’re becoming.”
Something in my chest tightened.
“Have you found yourself?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Darius’ smile faded. He looked down at his hands—hands that had held me, protected me, fought for me. “No.” His voice was quieter now. Rougher. “But I’m remembering more ever since I met you.”
The words hung between us, fragile and heavy all at once.
I wanted to ask what he meant. What he was remembering. But the look on his face—the vulnerability he so rarely let show—made me hesitate. Whatever he was finding, it wasn’t easy.
“Maybe we’ll figure it out together,” I said softly.
He looked up at me, and something shifted in his eyes. “Maybe we will.”
He clasped my hand and drew me closer. I went willingly, my heart pounding as he pulled me down to him. His lips brushed over mine—gentle at first, questioning. Like he was giving me the chance to pull away.
I didn’t.
I dragged my fingers through his hair, and he made a sound low in his throat that sent heat flooding through me. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to the small of my back, pressing me closer until I could feel his heartbeat against mine.
This kiss was different. Not desperate. Not interrupted. No battle waiting. No soldiers. No harpies. Just us.
Just us.
And I wanted more. More of him. More of this feeling—like I was falling and flying all at once.