Chapter 27 #2
“You don’t understand.” I shout, trying to twist free, but his arms only tighten around me, locking me in place. I kick, struggle, throwing everything I have against him, but he’s a wall, solid and unyielding. “Let me go. She doesn’t deserve this. Let me—”
“Alice,” he growls, his grip like iron. “Stop. Look at her.”
But I can’t. I can’t bear to. My throat closes as I catch Rosie’s face, her broken gaze locked onto mine. Tears blur my vision, but I keep fighting, trying to claw my way free. “She needs me. You don’t understand.”
His hold on me tightens further, his voice a rough whisper against my ear, filled with something that’s almost… pity. “It’s too late, Alice. You’ll only get yourself killed.”
But I’m beyond reason, thrashing like a wild animal in his grip, my fists pounding against his chest. “I don’t care.” I scream, my voice a cracked, desperate sound. “You coward, let me go. Let me go.”
“Stop fighting me, love, or you’ll end up on that block yourself.” His voice is harsh, edged with something cold and unyielding. He holds me tighter, his body a wall against the guards, shielding me as I crumble. “Stop. It’s over.”
“No. No, it’s not.” I twist in his arms, my voice breaking. “She doesn’t deserve this, Hook, she doesn’t—”
But his hands hold me firm, his face close to mine, his eyes burning into me, and for a second, everything goes silent. “Alice,” he murmurs, voice low, “she’s gone.”
And then, the thud. That horrible, final sound, the kind that sticks in your chest and twists.
The whole room seems to go cold. The Queen’s laughter echoes, cruel and triumphant, as Rosie’s small, fragile body slumps forward, lifeless.
Hook’s grip loosens just enough for me to see it, to watch as her light drains, her once-bright, porcelain skin now dull and cracked.
I go limp in Hook’s arms, my strength gone, my voice a whisper. “You should have let me go,” I murmur, hollow and broken.
But he doesn’t release me, his grip steady and sure, as if he knows I’d collapse if he did. He just holds me “And then you’d die too.”
The Queen descends the steps slowly, each clap echoing through the room, a sound that grates against my already frayed nerves.
She stops just a few paces in front of us, her mouth twisted into that triumphant, poisonous smile.
“Well done, Captain,” she purrs. “You’ve saved us all from yet another.
.. disruption.” Her eyes flick to me, gleaming with cruel amusement. “Quite the hero, aren’t you?”
My chest tightens, and I push against Hook’s arm, needing distance from him. Tears blur my vision as I struggle to swallow the bitter taste of betrayal. “You’re no better than her,” I hiss, low enough so only he can hear. “Coward.”
Hook’s expression flickers, but he says nothing.
Instead, he takes a single step back, his gaze unreadable.
The guard shoves me back into line, his grip unforgiving.
I can’t take my eyes off Hook, anger bubbling through my blood, every part of me wanting to scream, to fight.
But I’m trapped, and there’s nowhere left to go.
The Queen steps closer, her gaze lingering on the tears still wet on my cheeks. “What a lovely display of loyalty. Truly touching,” she croons, her tone mocking, delighting in every flicker of anguish I can’t quite hide. “But this is no time for sentiment. The game must go on.”
The guards close ranks around us, their faces blank. The Queen’s lips curve into a smile as she claps her hands again, and everything begins again.
I can feel her gaze, dark and greedy, a hunger that fills the room. She’s savouring every second. Hook isn’[t so far away from her. I hate her. I hate them both. Rosie didn’t have to die.
As we circle again, people steal glances at the queen, watching her movements.
She’s raising her hand, chin tilted as she watches us, a few chairs fewer now, just over ten of us left.
The guards remove another chair, and her lips curl into a satisfied smile.
She twists her fingers, but this time she doesn’t stop the music.
No, she’s noticed them watching, noticed their desperation for a sign, a tell.
Then, a woman—she’s in her thirties, hair neatly tied back, wearing a slender, delicate gown—panics. She makes a sudden dash for a chair, sitting down with a fearful jolt.
The Queen’s eyes flash. She slices her hand through the air. “Stop,” she commands, but it’s not to halt the music. She descends the steps, her movements slow, deliberate. “Did I say the music had stopped?” she asks.
The woman tries to stand, to scramble up, but a guard is already there, gripping her shoulder, pinning her down.
“Did I stop the music?” the Queen repeats.
The woman’s lip trembles as she stammers, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean…”
The Queen leans in. “Did I permit you to speak?”
The woman shakes her head, pressing her lips together, trying to hold back, but the tears and snot mingling on her face betray her fear. The Queen’s grin sharpens. I know exactly what she’s about to do.
“Off with her head,” she orders.
“No. Please, I’m sorry,” the woman begs, scrambling, her desperation clawing at my chest, making it hard not to react.
“Do you have to be so petty?”
Silence drops like a weight, and the Queen’s gaze swings to me, her eyes narrowing. “Alice. Always Alice.” She breathes in slowly. “I could take you to the block, you know, remove your head too,” and for a moment, I think she might actually do it—drag me to the block and be done with it.
“Remove my head, then, if that’s what you want,” I say, forcing myself to meet her gaze, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
Her lips curl into a smile, something dark flashing in her eyes—annoyance, maybe, or curiosity. Instead of punishing me, she pulls back, surveying me with a calculating look. “Let’s make this more interesting,” she announces.
Everyone around us freezes, breaths shallow, eyes darting between me, the Queen, and the guards. But the Queen isn’t looking at them. “Bring him forward.”
Two guards step from the shadows, grabbing Hook by the arms. He doesn’t resist, though he could, easily. Instead, he lets them pull him forward, his swagger in place.
The Queen, lounging on her throne, tilts her head, smiling in a way that makes my stomach twist. “Kneel,” she commands.
Hook hesitates for the briefest second before giving her an exaggerated bow, letting one knee hit the floor. “Your Majesty,” he murmur.
The Queen’s smile widens, cold and biting. “You came to me seeking assistance, didn’t you, Captain? Hoping I’d lend you a fraction of my power to revive that magic-starved wasteland of yours?”
“I did,” he replies. “But I admit, I rather enjoy the company of a powerful woman.” He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he holds her gaze.
The Queen’s eyes narrow. “Flattery might charm others, but I am not so easily swayed.” She leans forward, her voice dropping to a low, icy pitch. “If you want my help, you’ll have to earn it.”
Hook tilts his head, his smile sly. “Then I’ll win this, just for you.”
“Indeed.” She rises slowly, gaze locked on his.
“Play my game of chairs, Captain. Dance to the music with your precious life on the line. Show me what you’re willing to risk.
” She leans close, her voice barely above a whisper.
“If you survive, then we’ll discuss your request. If you lose… well, I think you know what happens.”
Hook doesn’t falter, though something dark flashes in his eyes. “You know me, love,” he says, standing, brushing himself off with a casual confidence. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
The Queen’s smile is pure malice. “Then prove yourself.”