Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alice
I woke to strong arms wrapped around me, holding me like I was something precious. Something worth protecting.
I glanced over my shoulder. Darius slept peacefully beside me, his face relaxed in a way I’d never seen when he was awake. Long dark lashes fanned across his cheekbones—the kind any woman would envy. His black hair spread across the pillow, and his breath came slow and steady.
The years seemed to slip off him. Making him softer. Less like a warrior and more like the man he might have been before this world broke him.
I stirred, thinking I should get up. But my body felt stiff and heavy, like someone had filled my bones with lead. Every muscle ached. My head throbbed. Whatever I’d done to save the harpy had drained me down to the marrow. But she was safe—and knowing that settled something deep inside me.
The pain was worth it.
Across the grotto, Grump and the others moved around, their voices low murmurs. The smell of coffee—or maybe tea—drifted through the cavern, warm and inviting.
I tried to sit up.
Darius’ arms tightened around me, pulling me back against his chest.
“Where are you going?” His voice was rough with sleep, but there was something else beneath it. Something fierce.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” His fingers brushed the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The tenderness of it made my throat tight. “Lie still.”
“I thought I should get up.”
“No.” The word was soft but final. “You battled dark magic. You need to rest. Build up your strength.”
I stiffened against him. “I’ve fought dark magic before. At Lumina Glade.” The memory flared hot—proof I wasn’t fragile, no matter who had called me weak.
“I’m not sure where that is, but did you do that alone?” His hand stilled against my hair. “Wasn’t Tinker Bell there?”
“Yes. But—”
“You had others to help you, Alice. To share the burden.” His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. “Queen Alanna’s magic has gotten stronger. She’s delved into things—dark things—that even Caterpillar won’t speak of.”
His words were being dragged from somewhere deep.
“I can’t lose you to her. Ever.”
The raw fear beneath the words stole my breath. I turned in his arms until I faced him, our noses almost touching. His silver eyes were open now, watching me with an intensity that made my heart stumble.
“You won’t,” I whispered.
But even as I said it, doubt coiled in my chest. The queen. Ari. Power that dwarfed anything I’d ever faced. I didn’t know if I was strong enough to stand against that—not yet.
He sat up and looked down at me. A grin spread across his face—slow and warm and so disarmingly boyish that my heart flipped.
“I could get used to waking up to you every day, Fate.”
I cupped his rugged cheek, the stubble rough against my palm. “Me too, Hatter.”
Something flickered in his silver eyes. Something soft and wanting and maybe a little terrified. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to my palm.
“Stay here. I’ll bring you something to drink and eat.”
“No, I should—” I pushed up on my elbows. I wasn’t used to people fetching things for me. “I can get it.”
He pressed his finger to my lips. “Stay. Let me do this for you.”
Before I could argue, he flicked the blanket off and swung his legs over the side of the cot. I immediately missed the warmth of his body next to mine. His muscles rippled with the simple movement—shoulders, back, arms—and my fingers itched to trace every line.
I wanted to reach out. To roam my hands over his bare skin and pull him back to me.
Instead, I curled my hand into a tight fist and buried it under the blanket.
The moment he stepped away, the cold crept in.
A shiver rolled through me—deep, bone-rattling. I wasn’t sure if it was from the chill or something else. Something the dark magic had left behind.
My teeth chattered. I curled tighter under the blankets, pulling my knees to my chest.
I felt hollow. Empty. Like someone had scooped out my insides and left nothing but a thin shell behind. The exhaustion pressed down on me—heavy, suffocating—worse than anything I’d felt after using my magic before.
This was different. This was the cost.
And still, I’d pay it again. The harpy was alive. That mattered.
Darius returned with a steaming cup clutched in his hands. The smell hit me first—something between coffee and tea, rich and earthy with a hint of sweetness.
“Here.” He sat on the edge of the cot and pressed the cup into my trembling hands. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”
I forced myself to sit up, my arms shaking with the effort. “What is it?”
“Dawnbrew. Doc’s secret mixture.” His silver eyes watched me carefully. “Chases away the aftereffects of dark magic.”
I took a tentative sip, expecting something bitter and medicinal. Instead, warmth spread across my tongue—soothing, sweet, like honey and spice and something floral I couldn’t name. The heat slid down my throat and into my chest, pushing back against the hollow emptiness.
“This actually tastes good,” I said.
A small smile tugged at his lips. He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “I’m glad you like it.” The smile faded. “Today you rest, Alice. Dark magic always takes a toll.”
I looked up at him—at the tension in his jaw, the shadows in his eyes. I hadn’t wanted to stay still, but his fear was louder than my pride. “You’re worried about me facing the queen, aren’t you?”
He didn’t answer right away. His hand dropped from my face, and he stared at the far wall of the cavern.
“I can’t lose you, Alice. You’ve opened something in me. Light. Hope. Things I forgot existed.” He turned back to me, and the vulnerability in his expression made my chest ache. “Alanna kept me in darkness and turmoil for so long. She’s strong. Evil. Jealous.”
“And she wants you.”
He still looked worn, but the tremor in his hands had stopped. Stronger, even if not fully himself. “She wants my hat.”
“Joy said she wanted you.” She wasn’t wrong—the queen wanted him. The hat was just the leash.
“Well.” His silver eyes locked onto mine, fierce and unwavering. “She can’t have me. I belong to you.”
I choked on the dawnbrew, sputtering. “What?”
He clasped my hand, his grip warm and steady. “You heard me.”
My heart slammed against my ribs. No one had ever wanted me. Not like this. Not with this intensity, this certainty. I’d spent my whole life on the outside—unwanted by my coven, abandoned by a family I couldn’t remember, always the problem, never the prize.
And here was this man—this impossible, infuriating, beautiful man—looking at me like I was the only thing in any dimension that mattered.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against my lips. “You’ll be mine, Alice.” His mouth brushed over mine—soft, slow, a promise. “Always.”
He clasped my hand. My throat tightened, and I had to look away. His certainty made something inside me ache. If I spoke right now—if I let myself feel how much his certainty meant—I’d crack open. And I didn’t have the luxury of breaking.
He gave me a moment. Then his thumb brushed across my knuckles.
“Alice, I need to know…” His voice was gentler now, but serious. “We all do. Why was it so important to save that harpy? They’re dangerous. Evil creatures. Not to be trusted.”
I blinked, dragging up the memory of Lumina Glade—the queen and Ari closing in, the harpies fighting at our side. Without them, we would have lost. “You’re wrong. That’s not true.”
“Alice—”
“We have harpies in my world that fight for us.” His brow ticked up, doubt sharpening in his eyes. I willed him to believe me. “Keir Rankin—the Unseelie mafia king—has a pair of harpies. Nyx trained them. Earned their loyalty through patience and trust.”
Nyx’s face flashed in my mind, and my chest ached. I remembered how he died in battle, trying to protect Keir, his king. The harpies had never been the same after that.
Darius scowled. “I don’t know who this Nyx is, but that’s impossible.”
“You said to believe in the impossible.” I squeezed his hand. “Trust me on this. The harpy will be loyal to us. I felt it when she gave me her feather.” My hand drifted down to where the feather rested against my heart. “It’s a sign of trust.”
“How do you know this?”
I shrugged, wishing I had a better answer. “I don’t know. I just do.”
I held my breath, wondering if he would believe me or doubt me like everyone else did. If he didn’t, I’d lose my one shot at proving I knew more than they thought.
He kissed the back of my wrist. “I trust you. I’ll always trust you.”
I stared at him, stunned. My coven never said things like that. They watched my magic spark and sputter and whispered about kicking me out. And a witch without a coven wasn’t a witch for long—not with the vampire mafia cleaning up strays.
So when he believed me, really believed me, it felt like being handed a future I hadn’t been sure I’d get.
The tears slipped free. I let them.
He wiped them away with his thumbs, his touch impossibly gentle. “Fate, you’re just what I’ve always needed.”
I opened my mouth to respond but—
A low rumble echoed through the cavern, deep enough to vibrate in my chest.
I turned toward the sound. Across the chamber, the door to the grotto was grinding open, stone scraping against stone. The noise set my teeth on edge.
My heart leaped into my throat. Ari—he’d found us.
Darius was on his feet so fast I barely saw him move.
He grabbed his sword from where it leaned against his cot, the blade singing as it cleared the sheath.
Across the grotto, the Uncrowned drew their weapons.
Caterpillar rose slowly, smoke curling from his lips.
Even Chester had gone still, his usual grin replaced by something sharp and dangerous.
Darius stepped in front of my cot, his body a wall between me and whatever was coming.
“Don’t move.”
I wasn’t listening.
I slid my legs off the cot, ignoring the way my muscles screamed in protest. My bow and arrows were within arm’s reach. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything but the rasp of my own breathing.
I might be weak. But I still had magic left.
I reached over and grabbed my bow. The gold hummed warm against my palm—awake, ready, eager. I slung the quiver of arrows over my shoulder, ignoring the way my arms trembled.
And I wasn’t going to let them fight without me.
I nocked an arrow and drew back the string. This was it. Do or die.
If Ari stepped into the cavern, I’d fire.
Golden eyes appeared on the other side of our cots, glowing in the dim light. My breath caught—but then the rest of Chester materialized out of nothing. His usual grin was gone, replaced by something feral. All teeth, no warmth. He held a sword in his hand, the blade catching the faint torchlight.
Even Chester was ready to kill.
Caterpillar and the rest of the Uncrowned fanned out across the cavern, their weapons raised. The scrape of boots on stone filled the silence. The tension was so thick I could taste it—metallic, like blood already spilled.
A long shadow fell across the stone, stretching toward us like a dark hand.
I narrowed my eyes. Ari. The queen. The soldiers.
Show yourself.
But then a tall, thin man stepped through the doorway. Long white hair spilled over his shoulders, and pale gray eyes swept the cavern. He wore a long blue tunic over matching striped tights, a gold belt cinched at his waist. A pocket watch dangled from it, swaying gently with each step.
Grump stepped forward. “Rabbit, what are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come until tomorrow. Is something wrong?”
The tension in my chest loosened by a fraction.
Only then did I lower my bow.
Rabbit bowed slightly. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness, but I have news.”
Highness? No one else had called Grump that. I kept forgetting he was the rightful king.
Grump lowered his sword. “What is the news?”
Rabbit wrung his hands. “I slipped away from the queen’s caravan. They were looking for a missing harpy. The harpy was supposed to return with news of your hideout.”
I stiffened. The harpy I’d saved. If I hadn’t intervened…
“And they have prisoners.”
Darius blurted, “Flint and Steel.”
I remembered them. They’d restrained me at first, but Darius cared about them. Flint and Steel were part of his family.
My hands curled into fists. I was done watching from the sidelines. I would help them get Flint and Steel back.
“Yes.” Rabbit’s pale eyes darted to Grump. “Along with your sister, Brynn.”
The cavern went deathly silent.
Grump’s jaw tightened. “And?”
“They plan a public execution. A message to anyone who defies the queen.” Rabbit swallowed hard. “The Whispering Hollow. Dawn tomorrow.”
Dawn. That was hours away.
“I can stop it.” I pushed myself to my feet—and my legs immediately buckled.
Darius caught me before I hit the ground, his arm wrapping around my waist. “No, you can’t.” His voice was firm. Final. “You’re too weak. You need to heal.”
“But they’ll die.” I looked past him to Grump—saw the way his hands had curled into fists, the muscle ticking in his jaw.
His sister. And Flint and Steel meant something to Darius.
I could see it in the tension radiating through his body.
“I can’t just lie here while the people you love are executed. ”
“You can and you will.” His grip tightened, not harsh but unyielding. “I won’t let you anywhere near the queen. You’re not ready.”
“Darius, I have saved you three times. I can do this. Just let me prove it.”
“Alice.” He turned me to face him, his silver eyes blazing. “You nearly died saving one harpy. What do you think will happen if you face Alanna herself? She’ll destroy you. Or worse—she’ll take you.”
“I’m not helpless, Darius. I’ve proven myself.” I pulled away from his grip and forced myself to stand on my own. I wasn’t as broken as my body insisted I was.
But my legs trembled beneath me. My hands shook. Even my magic felt distant—a faint flicker where there should have been a flame.