Unhinged (Splintered, #2)(75)
“Everything,” I say, knowing it’s a mistake the second I admit it.
With a thoughtful frown, Morpheus sits back, legs crossed, and places his hat in his lap, coaxing the moths that form it to separate and flutter in place atop his thighs. After removing a glove, he raises his hand, and strands of blue light drizzle from his fingertips, connecting to the insects. He wiggles his fingers, and, guided by their magical harnesses, the moths fly in a circle like a miniature carousel.
His expression becomes dreamy, glowing blue from the light. “One day and one night,” he says without looking up, preoccupied with his toy.
I swallow. “What?”
“That’s the price.” He still doesn't look my way. The magic from his fingers accelerates, and the moths follow suit. “If I help you protect your trophy boy’s frail psyche, you give me one day and one night as soon as this battle with Red is behind us. Twenty-four hours with me in Wonderland.”
I study him. He can’t be serious.
As if spurred by my silence, he withdraws his magic, and the moths flock together, reuniting into the hat. He puts it on, and his gaze locks to mine. His jewels flicker between passion and defiance—an evocative and intimidating combination. “Fair warning, I intend to make good use of that time. I will be gentle, but I will not be a gentleman. You will be the center of my world. I’ll show you the wonders of Wonderland, and when you’re drunk on the beauty and chaos that your heart so yearns to know, I will take you under my wings and make you forget the human realm ever existed. You’ll never want to leave Wonderland or me again.”
The thrum starts at the back of my skull, a resurrection of my netherling side, almost as powerful as what I felt at the gym while standing in the flames. But my human side nudges me—a warning. Morpheus is the most magical and captivating creature I’ve ever known. And, other than in dreams, I’ve never spent more than a few hours alone with him at a time. How could I resist the darkness he summons inside me for an entire day and night?
I glance under his left wing to check on Jeb. His feet twitch, and he rolls to his stomach, mumbling. He’ll be fully conscious within minutes.
Morpheus’s gaze falls to the handprints on my neck. “Give me an answer or I wake your boyfriend and let him bask in his newest masterpiece.”
“Okay,” I murmur. I might never make it through a battle with Red in the first place, so the day with Morpheus might not ever happen. Who knows if I’m the final queen left standing in the mosaics? Maybe I’m the one whose torso is covered in web, or the one who’s swallowed by some unnamable monstrosity.
It’s something I have to consider. If I don’t survive, I don’t want Jeb to be tormented by the thought that he hurt me, that he inherited his father’s violence in any way. That’s one gift I can give him.
“Vow it,” Morpheus says. “And make the words count.”
Cheeks hot, I hold my palm over my heart. “I vow on my life-magic to give you one day and one night, the moment we defeat Red.”
“Done.” Expression unchanging, Morpheus removes his remaining glove.
When he starts to peel off his jacket, I get up on my knees and shove at his lapels, hurrying him. Together we drag the sleeves down his shoulders. Despite my efforts to be businesslike, I find myself overcome by the intimacy of undressing him with Jeb lying unconscious on the floor. If he were to wake and see this …
Two slits open in the back of the blazer to release Morpheus’s wings. One of them grazes my hand, causing my own wing buds to tingle behind my shoulder blades. I fidget. He watches my reaction intently. My stomach knots as I take his wrist and unbutton his shirt cuff, pushing the sleeve to his elbow to reveal the birthmark on his forearm. His skin is soft and warm.
I release his arm and untie my boot to expose the netherling mark on my ankle.
Morpheus rocks back on his heels and studies me. “Of all the times you’ve undressed me in my fantasies, I never remember feeling this … unfulfilled.”
“Please, Morpheus,” I beg upon hearing Jeb stir in the background.
“Ah, but those delectable words,” Morpheus says with a provocative smirk, “those are always in the fantasy.”
I glare at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And that sentiment is reserved for the end.”
“Shut. Up.” I drag his forearm over to match it to my birthmark.
He pulls free before we make contact. “A moment, please. Allow me to bask in your devotion.” He’s referring to my ankle tattoo.
I blush. “I’ve told you a hundred times. It’s only a set of wings.”
“Nonsense.” Morpheus grins. “I know a moth when I see one.”
I groan in frustration, and he surrenders, letting me press our markings together. A spark rushes between them, expanding to a firestorm through my veins. His gaze locks on mine, and the bottomless depths flicker—like black clouds alive with lightning. For that instant, I’m bared to the bone. He looks inside my heart; I look inside his. And the similarities there terrify me.
I avert my eyes, breaking our mental connection. My neck stops throbbing, my throat soothes, and my limbs feel languid. I relax against the wall.
Morpheus’s pale skin flushes, and he lifts his arm off my ankle. There’s something new behind his eyes—resolution—and I know I’ve just signed my soul away.