I stand and rub my arms, chilled by the direction the conversation’s taking. “Jeb, that kiss wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t mean for it to.”
“Yet when I got back today, you were in his room. Your clothes were wrinkled, your face flushed.”
My cheeks burn. So he did notice. “I’m so sorry.” And I’m so tired of lame apologies. “I can’t seem to balance this. My two sides . . . they’re always at war. I’m not trying to lead you on. Or him, either.”
Jeb’s frown deepens. “I know you’re not playing games. I also know you’re not the kind of girl who kisses a guy for no reason.”
“You’re right. The first time was to get my wish back. And the second . . . it was supposed to be a peck on the cheek. He changed it to something more.”
“Oh, come on!” Jeb shouts, causing me to flinch. “This is what makes me crazy. That you can’t admit it to me or yourself. You kissed him because you have feelings for him.”
Feelings . . . such a simple word, except to a half-blood netherling queen whose life is not only unraveling, but her heart, too. I tighten my lips.
My silence triggers an unsettling expression across Jeb’s face . . . like a storm slowly building.
The boat behind him starts to rattle, a physical manifestation of his emotional turmoil. I jump as a loud pop splits the wood’s seams. The panels snap open so it’s nothing but an emaciated skeleton.
“I tried to tell you,” he says in an unsettling monotone. “I can’t trust myself.”
I square my shoulders. “The anger wasn’t directed at me. And it never will be.”
“Doesn’t matter. Because we’re over.”
“I don’t believe you.” From beneath my shirt, I drag out the ring he painted in the willow room. “I saw all the beautiful dreams you have for us.”
Clenching his jaw, he takes my shoulders—carefully, as if I’m made of glass—and maneuvers me so I’m a few inches from the boat, close enough to the ocean for the warm tide to lick my toes.
“Had,” he corrects. “Past tense.”
Gaze turned to the ground, he waves his palm above the sand. Each grain sparks with red light and two holes open, sucking me down to my ankles. They close over my feet. I try to move, but I’m stuck.
Confusion creeps through me. “Jeb?”
“Another thing your moth prince doesn’t know. I’ve learned how to separate the two strains of magic. I put your dad into his dream trance earlier. Morpheus was just a prop. Too bad I didn’t control his powers on prom night. Maybe you would’ve chosen me instead. Then I could’ve given you all the things I wanted to, instead of only dreaming about them.” He slips the necklace with his ring off my head and dips it in the water until the beautiful band of diamonds and silver disintegrates to a puddle of paint. Only the diary’s key remains.
Rooted like an unwanted weed, I can’t do anything but watch.
He drops the necklace back into place over my head and returns the boat to its former glory with a flourish of his hands.
I recover my voice. “I did choose you!”
Back turned, he clears off the seat. A breeze scrambles his hair, making the tangles even messier.
I thrust out a hand and snag his back jeans pocket. “Jeb, don’t do this.”
He pries my fingers free and moves out of reach. “Do what? Help you get what you wanted?” He coils the rope in the hull. “When your fae boyfriend had his wings around you in your room, you told him all you were asking for was a little while. You said forever was worth that.”
A breath shunts out of me.
I had no idea he was listening in the hallway before the kiss. I had touched my lips to Morpheus’s cheek, keeping it innocent. Jeb didn’t see that, because Morpheus’s wings dropped only when he made that kiss into something more. Jeb saw what Morpheus wanted him to see. But worse than what Jeb saw, was what he heard. What came out of my own mouth.
Sometimes words are louder than actions.
Understanding ticks through my mind, as vicious and cutting as a razor-sharp second hand on a clock.
“You needed time to break up with me,” Jeb says. “After I’d just asked you to marry me. I was hoping for forever, but you were already planning it with him.” Jeb heaves the boat into the water and quickly steps inside the hull to keep his clothes dry. He sits, facing me, oars in hand.
The foamy tide laps at my ankles, melting my leggings until my shins are exposed. I tense my thigh muscles, twist my calves. But I might as well be standing in cement. He’s about to end his life, give up everything, all for the sake of what he thinks I want.
The diary at my chest glows, yet I can’t slow my racing thoughts enough to use it. My mind is as useless as my body.
“Wait!” I grapple for the bow, but it slips under my fingertips as the tide pulls the boat into the ocean. “It’s all out of context, okay? I didn’t say I wanted to break up with you!”
Jeb drifts out of my reach. “What else would you have been asking time for, if not to let me down easy? I get it. I tried to choke you. I’m not worthy of trust.” He drags the oars through the water until he’s several feet away.
No. I can’t let him believe that. The only arsenal I have is the truth. My vow to Ivory stated I wouldn’t tell anyone about the vision of my and Morpheus’s child. But the prospect of my immortality is fair game.
“I can have two futures. One with you in the mortal realm. Then, later, as a netherling queen. What you heard on prom night was me asking Morpheus to give me and you space. To wait for my human life to end.”
Jeb pauses rowing. Water sloshes around the hull, towing the boat out further. The lighthouse flashes across him and his labret sparkles as he watches me. “How is that even possible?”
I attempt to explain it, that I’ll age in the mortal realm, but won’t die. That when I’m old and frail, I can fake my death and go to Wonderland. That once my crown is placed on my head, I’ll return to the age I was when I first became queen.
What I don’t say is how much it hurts to consider outliving the people I love, to leave my human family behind. I can’t say it, because Jeb’s pain concerns me more.
“So, after everyone dies, you’ll go to Wonderland and be perpetually sixteen?” The bitter bite in his voice punctures like thorns. “I’ll be gone. And you’ll spend forever with him. What am I supposed to do with that, Al?”
“Yet when I got back today, you were in his room. Your clothes were wrinkled, your face flushed.”
My cheeks burn. So he did notice. “I’m so sorry.” And I’m so tired of lame apologies. “I can’t seem to balance this. My two sides . . . they’re always at war. I’m not trying to lead you on. Or him, either.”
Jeb’s frown deepens. “I know you’re not playing games. I also know you’re not the kind of girl who kisses a guy for no reason.”
“You’re right. The first time was to get my wish back. And the second . . . it was supposed to be a peck on the cheek. He changed it to something more.”
“Oh, come on!” Jeb shouts, causing me to flinch. “This is what makes me crazy. That you can’t admit it to me or yourself. You kissed him because you have feelings for him.”
Feelings . . . such a simple word, except to a half-blood netherling queen whose life is not only unraveling, but her heart, too. I tighten my lips.
My silence triggers an unsettling expression across Jeb’s face . . . like a storm slowly building.
The boat behind him starts to rattle, a physical manifestation of his emotional turmoil. I jump as a loud pop splits the wood’s seams. The panels snap open so it’s nothing but an emaciated skeleton.
“I tried to tell you,” he says in an unsettling monotone. “I can’t trust myself.”
I square my shoulders. “The anger wasn’t directed at me. And it never will be.”
“Doesn’t matter. Because we’re over.”
“I don’t believe you.” From beneath my shirt, I drag out the ring he painted in the willow room. “I saw all the beautiful dreams you have for us.”
Clenching his jaw, he takes my shoulders—carefully, as if I’m made of glass—and maneuvers me so I’m a few inches from the boat, close enough to the ocean for the warm tide to lick my toes.
“Had,” he corrects. “Past tense.”
Gaze turned to the ground, he waves his palm above the sand. Each grain sparks with red light and two holes open, sucking me down to my ankles. They close over my feet. I try to move, but I’m stuck.
Confusion creeps through me. “Jeb?”
“Another thing your moth prince doesn’t know. I’ve learned how to separate the two strains of magic. I put your dad into his dream trance earlier. Morpheus was just a prop. Too bad I didn’t control his powers on prom night. Maybe you would’ve chosen me instead. Then I could’ve given you all the things I wanted to, instead of only dreaming about them.” He slips the necklace with his ring off my head and dips it in the water until the beautiful band of diamonds and silver disintegrates to a puddle of paint. Only the diary’s key remains.
Rooted like an unwanted weed, I can’t do anything but watch.
He drops the necklace back into place over my head and returns the boat to its former glory with a flourish of his hands.
I recover my voice. “I did choose you!”
Back turned, he clears off the seat. A breeze scrambles his hair, making the tangles even messier.
I thrust out a hand and snag his back jeans pocket. “Jeb, don’t do this.”
He pries my fingers free and moves out of reach. “Do what? Help you get what you wanted?” He coils the rope in the hull. “When your fae boyfriend had his wings around you in your room, you told him all you were asking for was a little while. You said forever was worth that.”
A breath shunts out of me.
I had no idea he was listening in the hallway before the kiss. I had touched my lips to Morpheus’s cheek, keeping it innocent. Jeb didn’t see that, because Morpheus’s wings dropped only when he made that kiss into something more. Jeb saw what Morpheus wanted him to see. But worse than what Jeb saw, was what he heard. What came out of my own mouth.
Sometimes words are louder than actions.
Understanding ticks through my mind, as vicious and cutting as a razor-sharp second hand on a clock.
“You needed time to break up with me,” Jeb says. “After I’d just asked you to marry me. I was hoping for forever, but you were already planning it with him.” Jeb heaves the boat into the water and quickly steps inside the hull to keep his clothes dry. He sits, facing me, oars in hand.
The foamy tide laps at my ankles, melting my leggings until my shins are exposed. I tense my thigh muscles, twist my calves. But I might as well be standing in cement. He’s about to end his life, give up everything, all for the sake of what he thinks I want.
The diary at my chest glows, yet I can’t slow my racing thoughts enough to use it. My mind is as useless as my body.
“Wait!” I grapple for the bow, but it slips under my fingertips as the tide pulls the boat into the ocean. “It’s all out of context, okay? I didn’t say I wanted to break up with you!”
Jeb drifts out of my reach. “What else would you have been asking time for, if not to let me down easy? I get it. I tried to choke you. I’m not worthy of trust.” He drags the oars through the water until he’s several feet away.
No. I can’t let him believe that. The only arsenal I have is the truth. My vow to Ivory stated I wouldn’t tell anyone about the vision of my and Morpheus’s child. But the prospect of my immortality is fair game.
“I can have two futures. One with you in the mortal realm. Then, later, as a netherling queen. What you heard on prom night was me asking Morpheus to give me and you space. To wait for my human life to end.”
Jeb pauses rowing. Water sloshes around the hull, towing the boat out further. The lighthouse flashes across him and his labret sparkles as he watches me. “How is that even possible?”
I attempt to explain it, that I’ll age in the mortal realm, but won’t die. That when I’m old and frail, I can fake my death and go to Wonderland. That once my crown is placed on my head, I’ll return to the age I was when I first became queen.
What I don’t say is how much it hurts to consider outliving the people I love, to leave my human family behind. I can’t say it, because Jeb’s pain concerns me more.
“So, after everyone dies, you’ll go to Wonderland and be perpetually sixteen?” The bitter bite in his voice punctures like thorns. “I’ll be gone. And you’ll spend forever with him. What am I supposed to do with that, Al?”
