Wrapping them in the napkin, Morpheus squashes them and shoves the wadded cloth under the door. “Ear mites. They would’ve recorded anything we said and reported it to the queen.” He leads me to the center of the room. “Now we can talk freely.”
I remind myself not to overreact . . . to give him a chance to explain. “So, this is a wedding dress?”
The smug smirk I expected earlier makes a belated appearance. “Perhaps not what I originally intended you to wear for our union, but it will do in a pinch. Aren’t you glad you had the foresight to put it on?”
I take down the bun at the back of my nape, giving my hands something to do other than punch him. “You made it clear I should wear it,” I say, weaving my red streak back into the rest of my platinum waves.
Morpheus watches my every move, momentarily distracted as I pin up my hair again, piece by piece.
“I thought the dress was meant to be a weapon.” I slip the last bobby pin into place.
“Oh, with the way it fits you, it very well is,” Morpheus says, his voice gruff. The spilled milk on the table has started an annoying drip-drip-drip onto the carpet. He backs me up to a chaise lounge out of the way of the mess.
I sit on the edge of the center cushion, my wings strewn behind me. “Tell me what’s going on, and this had better be good.”
He shakes out a cloth napkin. “Still don’t trust me, aye?”
“I trust that you don’t want to face my wrath.”
He snorts. “I’m game for anything. Will you pelt me with falling hearts in a symbolic rain of our unrequited love? Or perhaps chain me to a wall in lace made of moonlight and have your way with me?” His jeweled markings blink through a rhapsody of colors: flirtatious, taunting, and malicious.
“Would you be serious? You have a lot of explaining to do.”
His jewels coalesce to emerald green. “As do you. Let us start with why you were rolling about with Jebediah half-naked on the sands of a beach whilst I was putting myself in danger for your father’s antidote.”
I resist my jaw’s temptation to drop. He doesn’t get to guilt me. There’s only one way he could know that, and it doesn’t bode well for his own nocturnal activities.
“You’re working with Manti . . .” My vocal cords grate against one another—as if made of sandpaper.
Morpheus sops up milk with the napkin to silence the dripping. “We’ll get to that. But first, you need to be apprised of what took place while you were playing peek-a-boo with our pseudo elf’s crowning attribute. Two of your father’s relatives were captured by the queen’s guards last night. When I was accompanying Nikki to the castle, I saw them being escorted through the gate. I didn’t know who they were, only that they were knights and that one shared your father’s eyes.”
I twine my hands nervously. “Uncle Bernard.”
“He’s all right.”
“I can’t believe we dragged him into this . . .”
Morpheus sits on the arm of the lounge, his wings cascading down behind him. The pulsing chandelier lights shimmer along his black lacy cuff as he picks off some lint. “You have Jebediah to thank for that, actually. Before his scenic transformations confused the wind tunnels, the knights never had a reason to journey across the looking-glass world on foot. Your ex’s interference has endangered the fragile inner workings of this world.”
“But he did it to protect you,” I defend. “You told me yourself that he changed the landscapes to confuse the wildlife.”
Morpheus grips his thigh. “Why are you still so infatuated with that mortal? After how he’s hurt you?”
I glare up at him. “Something that you’ve never done.”
Glancing down at his whitening knuckles, Morpheus grinds his teeth. “I’ve never given up on you.”
The sincere rasp to his voice softens me. “I know.” I lace my fingers through his, and his muscles contract in response. “But Jeb didn’t give up on me, either. He gave up on himself. And you had a hand in that.”
Morpheus rolls his eyes. “We’re straying off track. You’re not embracing the seriousness of the situation. For centuries, Hart has been looking for a way to attack the Wonderland gate, to hijack a wind tunnel and get across the abyss of nothing. Can you imagine the chaos she could wield with access to a knight’s medallion?”
It’s strange, but on some level, I’m relieved at his words. “I was right . . . I knew Wonderland had to be in danger.” The fact that I put my faith in him and he didn’t let me down lifts the weight from my shoulders. I didn’t endanger Jeb and Dad needlessly.
“More than Wonderland, actually,” Morpheus says, interrupting my thoughts. “The Queen of Hearts agreed to keep Red’s spirit alive only because Red convinced her you’d be coming here to rescue me, and Jebediah, had she not thought him dead. It’s why Red captured us and dragged us into AnyElsewhere in the first place. As collateral. The two queens planned to use you to find a way back to Wonderland, where Hart would have access to the portals into the mortal realm and could harvest human life-clocks for her collection.”
“Life-clocks?” I twine the words around on my tongue, tasting the syllables. When she first saw me, the queen said she wanted mine.
Morpheus gestures to the room’s decor. “Her pet name for stolen hearts. Life-clocks.”
Shivering, I dig my fist into my chest to ease the pain. Hart said she sensed mine was special. She must know it’s damaged. Maybe she can tell me what Red has done to it.
“Alyssa. Why are you so pale?” Morpheus slides down the chaise’s arm to settle next to me. He presses the back of his hand to my cheek, checking my temperature. “You’re positively glacial.”
His hand scorches my skin and I push it away. “I’m just worried.” About more than I can say. How can my body be so cold, while a line of lit gasoline burns down the back of my sternum? I clench the edge of the cushions, determined to hold myself together. “We have to get the medallions back . . . and get my uncle and the other knight out of here.”
Pursing his lips, Morpheus catches my wrist and peels off a glove to rest his thumb on my pulse. He frowns, but seems satisfied enough to smooth the glove into place and settle my palm in my lap. “It’s already been handled. Due to my swift thinking, and no thanks to you and your faithlessness.”
I remind myself not to overreact . . . to give him a chance to explain. “So, this is a wedding dress?”
The smug smirk I expected earlier makes a belated appearance. “Perhaps not what I originally intended you to wear for our union, but it will do in a pinch. Aren’t you glad you had the foresight to put it on?”
I take down the bun at the back of my nape, giving my hands something to do other than punch him. “You made it clear I should wear it,” I say, weaving my red streak back into the rest of my platinum waves.
Morpheus watches my every move, momentarily distracted as I pin up my hair again, piece by piece.
“I thought the dress was meant to be a weapon.” I slip the last bobby pin into place.
“Oh, with the way it fits you, it very well is,” Morpheus says, his voice gruff. The spilled milk on the table has started an annoying drip-drip-drip onto the carpet. He backs me up to a chaise lounge out of the way of the mess.
I sit on the edge of the center cushion, my wings strewn behind me. “Tell me what’s going on, and this had better be good.”
He shakes out a cloth napkin. “Still don’t trust me, aye?”
“I trust that you don’t want to face my wrath.”
He snorts. “I’m game for anything. Will you pelt me with falling hearts in a symbolic rain of our unrequited love? Or perhaps chain me to a wall in lace made of moonlight and have your way with me?” His jeweled markings blink through a rhapsody of colors: flirtatious, taunting, and malicious.
“Would you be serious? You have a lot of explaining to do.”
His jewels coalesce to emerald green. “As do you. Let us start with why you were rolling about with Jebediah half-naked on the sands of a beach whilst I was putting myself in danger for your father’s antidote.”
I resist my jaw’s temptation to drop. He doesn’t get to guilt me. There’s only one way he could know that, and it doesn’t bode well for his own nocturnal activities.
“You’re working with Manti . . .” My vocal cords grate against one another—as if made of sandpaper.
Morpheus sops up milk with the napkin to silence the dripping. “We’ll get to that. But first, you need to be apprised of what took place while you were playing peek-a-boo with our pseudo elf’s crowning attribute. Two of your father’s relatives were captured by the queen’s guards last night. When I was accompanying Nikki to the castle, I saw them being escorted through the gate. I didn’t know who they were, only that they were knights and that one shared your father’s eyes.”
I twine my hands nervously. “Uncle Bernard.”
“He’s all right.”
“I can’t believe we dragged him into this . . .”
Morpheus sits on the arm of the lounge, his wings cascading down behind him. The pulsing chandelier lights shimmer along his black lacy cuff as he picks off some lint. “You have Jebediah to thank for that, actually. Before his scenic transformations confused the wind tunnels, the knights never had a reason to journey across the looking-glass world on foot. Your ex’s interference has endangered the fragile inner workings of this world.”
“But he did it to protect you,” I defend. “You told me yourself that he changed the landscapes to confuse the wildlife.”
Morpheus grips his thigh. “Why are you still so infatuated with that mortal? After how he’s hurt you?”
I glare up at him. “Something that you’ve never done.”
Glancing down at his whitening knuckles, Morpheus grinds his teeth. “I’ve never given up on you.”
The sincere rasp to his voice softens me. “I know.” I lace my fingers through his, and his muscles contract in response. “But Jeb didn’t give up on me, either. He gave up on himself. And you had a hand in that.”
Morpheus rolls his eyes. “We’re straying off track. You’re not embracing the seriousness of the situation. For centuries, Hart has been looking for a way to attack the Wonderland gate, to hijack a wind tunnel and get across the abyss of nothing. Can you imagine the chaos she could wield with access to a knight’s medallion?”
It’s strange, but on some level, I’m relieved at his words. “I was right . . . I knew Wonderland had to be in danger.” The fact that I put my faith in him and he didn’t let me down lifts the weight from my shoulders. I didn’t endanger Jeb and Dad needlessly.
“More than Wonderland, actually,” Morpheus says, interrupting my thoughts. “The Queen of Hearts agreed to keep Red’s spirit alive only because Red convinced her you’d be coming here to rescue me, and Jebediah, had she not thought him dead. It’s why Red captured us and dragged us into AnyElsewhere in the first place. As collateral. The two queens planned to use you to find a way back to Wonderland, where Hart would have access to the portals into the mortal realm and could harvest human life-clocks for her collection.”
“Life-clocks?” I twine the words around on my tongue, tasting the syllables. When she first saw me, the queen said she wanted mine.
Morpheus gestures to the room’s decor. “Her pet name for stolen hearts. Life-clocks.”
Shivering, I dig my fist into my chest to ease the pain. Hart said she sensed mine was special. She must know it’s damaged. Maybe she can tell me what Red has done to it.
“Alyssa. Why are you so pale?” Morpheus slides down the chaise’s arm to settle next to me. He presses the back of his hand to my cheek, checking my temperature. “You’re positively glacial.”
His hand scorches my skin and I push it away. “I’m just worried.” About more than I can say. How can my body be so cold, while a line of lit gasoline burns down the back of my sternum? I clench the edge of the cushions, determined to hold myself together. “We have to get the medallions back . . . and get my uncle and the other knight out of here.”
Pursing his lips, Morpheus catches my wrist and peels off a glove to rest his thumb on my pulse. He frowns, but seems satisfied enough to smooth the glove into place and settle my palm in my lap. “It’s already been handled. Due to my swift thinking, and no thanks to you and your faithlessness.”
