The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(44)

Inhaling deeply, I finally said, “Are you certain you speak of me, Hades, and not yourself?”

“What?” he growled, causing the earth to rumble beneath me.

He could kill me. In fact, he looked like he wanted to with the way his free hand suddenly curled into a tight fist and the blue flames danced higher and brighter off the blade.

I shrugged. “You’ve taken a keen interest in mine and Alice’s affairs, and I cannot help but wonder why that is.”

Eyes thinning to dangerous slits, he growled. “I take a keen interest in anyone who moves through my kingdom. You, a living, it is unnatural. And I cannot help but wonder why I have allowed this farce to continue on. You tell your silly little story, trying to act as though her smiles and the sounds of her laughter don’t wound you. But I see inside you, Hatter. You will fail.”

His words pierced my heart like a blade, but deep down I was certain that his hatred was not for me alone. Death rested in his touch. If he’d truly wanted me gone, he could have done it already. No, Hades didn’t want me here, but not because I was a living.

“It isn’t my failure that’s bothering you. It’s yours. Somehow you see yourself in me, and you don’t like it.”

No sooner had the words left my lips than Death was upon me, body transforming into a black mist that undulated through the winds like a sail before reshaping into his familiar form, and yet not at all the same. His features—now gaunt and skeletal and radiating such power I had to clench down on my molars to keep from screaming at the sudden flash of agony I felt every time his breath washed against my flesh—were radically altered.

Just that slight touch felt like razor-sharp blades of fury and madness shredding me to ribbons. But I refused to be cowed. I was here for Alice and Alice alone. And though I’d lost hope of ever succeeding, I would not leave until the final grain of sand fell in the hourglass of my life. His upper lip curled, and then with a hiss, he pulled back.

Gone was the skeletal visage of death, again he was a man. But I knew who he really was. Blinking, I wet my lips and tried to still the heavy hammering of my heart in my chest, ignoring the beads of sweat that’d popped out along my forehead and brows and now ran down the sides of my neck.

“Your impertinence deserves death. No man has ever spoken to me thus. Who are you to dare?”

Giving my head a slight shake, I murmured, “I’m just a man, desperate to save a woman who no longer knows I exist.”

Whatever words I’d said stopped Hades cold. The flame died in his eyes, and his sword was now nothing but burnished silver.

“Save her, Hatter. Prove to me the impossible can be done.”

His voice sounded weary and full of gravel. And then he turned slowly, looking as heavy laden as I felt, his footsteps plodding as he moved through the constant wake of snow that floated down from the darkened skies above him.





Chapter 15


Danika


I watched it all with my heart in my throat, staring at the vision bubble and praying to all the gods above—that I did not even believe were capable of much more than fancy parlor tricks—for a true miracle. I felt much as Hades did.

Lost.

Alone.

And scared.

I understood the Lord of the Underworld in a way I’d never believed possible before. Any chance of reconciling Kingdom’s happily-ever-afters, let alone my own, was being played out before me through the eyes of another.

There were few romances I’d consider legend.

And though the stories had often shown Alice and Hatter to be crackpot and childlike, the truth was, their lives had always been inseparably bound. They were legend, and nothing without the other.

If those two could not succeed, then what chance did anyone else have?

Hades had been very clear that no one could interfere in his realm. He’d even banned Aphrodite. The poor dear wasn’t taking her exile well.

But I was no kind of fairy godmother if I didn’t allow myself to bend the rules now and then.

Hatter’s story was all well and good. But there was only truly one way to bring his Alice back. Magic had wrought this curse, and only magic could undo it.

The magic of love.

There were many different forms of love.

Eros.

Agape.

Pragma.

The last especially applied to me. Pragma was long-standing love. The kind that lasted an eternity. The kind that could only be built through long years together. Of all my Bad Boys, Hatter had always been a particular favorite.

It was wrong of me, I know. No mother ever wanted to admit to having a favorite, but I did.

How lost he’d been. How alone. And how mad.

I’d worried over him most of all.

And then when Alice had come, my love had simply encapsulated them both, cherishing her as I had him.

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. For I knew what I was about to do would be irrevocable. I was a mother cleaved in two. Wanting to save her child. And wanting to selfishly save herself.

True love’s kiss was potent, so powerful that no dark magic could stand against it. Bringing my shaking fingers to my lips, I poured all that love into that kiss. And when I pulled my hand away, I stared at that glowing orb of love, feeling the pulse and sway of that most powerful magic dance around me.

Hatter’s cottage suddenly seemed to come alive. The plants that he had placed everywhere began to writhe and bloom. Bronzed miniatures he’d placed above his mantel—images of birds and monkeys and a horse—animated. The bird swooped into the air, its clockwork circuitry dinging with each flap of its gorgeous wings. The monkey chattered and hopped from vine to vine. And the beautiful mare rose up on her hind legs and neighed. A tiny field mouse that’d hidden itself in his living room popped his head out and looked at me—not with black beady, soulless eyes—but darling eyes that spoke of intelligence. And the name suddenly popped into my head.