The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(33)

My Alice.

This was my Alice.

My lover.

My everything.

Her palm was as callused as I’d known it would be. Like me, she’d worked with her hands all her life. She’d had strong hands, but yet delicate too. Hands that’d run over every inch of my naked body with tender, loving devotion.

I swallowed painfully. “Good... good to meet you.” I forced the lie past my lips. Forced myself to act as though I didn’t know her, but I did. I knew everything about her.

Everything.

My entire world had revolved around her and our daughter Chrysalis for so long that Alice was as familiar to me as my own flesh. Because she was me, and I was her.

“So,” she said a second later, letting go of my hand before curling her fingers so tightly upon her lap that her knuckles whitened, “what was that earlier? Why did you act like you knew me?”

And for just a moment, I wanted to tell her the truth, tell her everything. But I already knew I couldn’t. I’d tried before, and she’d flown away from me like a frightened animal.

Alice had died believing I did not care. And whether she remembered me now or not, someplace deep within her knew. She was talking to me now. And that had to be enough.

So I swallowed my terror at the thought of losing her all over again and stayed as close to the truth as I could without frightening her away.

“You scared me,” she finally said, words soft and fragile.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I did not intend to. I am new here you see, and you reminded me of someone.”

Her brows lifted. “I do?”

Notching my knees, I wrapped my arms around them, simply to give my hands something to do, and nodded. “Aye. A woman I loved a long time ago and who loved me once too.”

Her lips twisted as her body began to slowly move away. I gripped her forearm, refusing to let her go this time, and violently shook my head.

“But I was wrong. You are not her. And I am sorry for scaring you as I did. But please don’t go. I know no one here. And your company”—I breathed, aching so deep in my chest that I wondered if I might actually die before the three days were up—“is a salve to my weary mind.”

She glanced down at my hand, and though I did not want to, I forced my fingers to relax and release her.

She rubbed at the spot where my hand had been, and for a moment I was sure she would flee again, leave me here in this desolate wasteland, alone and dying. But she didn’t.

Alice stayed.

“What was her name? The girl you loved.”

Closing my eyes, I forced aside the imprint of her name on my tongue and whispered brokenly, “She had many names, but only one I can give you.”

Lifting her brows, she seemed curious despite her misgivings, and if that was all I could get, then I would make the most of it.

“Mine.”

She swallowed, and I gave her a weak smile, feeling sentimental and foolish. But then she patted my hand, the touch featherlight and quick, but enough to make me feel as if she’d scorched me.

“That must have been nice,” she murmured, then shook her head. “Being a ‘mine.’” She finger quoted. “I was never anyone’s mine.”

My lashes fluttered heavily; my stomach ached. I wanted to tell her. The words settled like lead on the tip of my tongue, but I checked my words and let her continue to believe that lie.

“Well, Hatter, you’ve caught me on a good day. I am relatively new too and know no one here. So I guess that means we have an eternity to talk about your ‘mine.’ Tell me, what did she look like?”

I shook my head, lost as to what I could possibly say to her, when an absurd idea suddenly struck me. Inside my chest, I felt the faint stirrings of my magic, more alive now because of her proximity.

It was a stupid, silly idea and likely wouldn’t work at all. But I’d seen Danika do this times aplenty, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe I might be able to keep Alice with me longer if I made sure she was entertained.

“Alice,” I said slowly, “if I ask you something wild, would you trust me?”

She frowned deeply, leaning away, but I shook my head.

“It’s nothing like you’re thinking, I’m sure.”

A short burst of laughter dropped off her tongue, the sound so achingly familiar that my eyes began to burn with a wet sheen. But I couldn’t give in to the loss of her, not now. Not when I was finally back with her.

“And how would you know what I’m thinking?” she asked dulcetly.

A ghost of smile whispered past my lips. “It wasn’t hard. But I want to show you something. I have magic, you see. But in order to use it, I need to link hands.”

Again she gave me a look like she didn’t trust me, and she was right. I wasn’t exactly being honest. Though I felt the dregs of my magic stirring, it wasn’t my magic I wanted to tap into, but hers.

Because her power had once been my own, I knew how to harness it to my will.

“I would weave a story for you,” I said brokenly. “One of love, heartbreak, and possibly, maybe even redemption.”

“Possibly redemption? Wouldn’t you know if your romance was redeemed?”

I nodded. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” I grinned, giving her the best nonanswer I could.