The Mad King (The Dark Kings #1)(87)

Danika hovered in front of her, splaying her tiny hand on Alice’s chest. Heat poured through Alice like molten lava, and her heart felt like it swelled, growing to twice its size.

“But don’t you see? The land has already begun responding to you.”

She shook her head. “What does that even mean? How can I make this place fall in love with me?”

“By making him fall in love with you.”

“But he loved my great-grandmother.”

“No.” Danika was adamant, blondish-gray curls bouncing attractively around her head. “What he felt was pretense. Lies. Lust masked as love. Had any of the other Alices encouraged him, his love would have turned to hate, and that is why, in part, he despises them now. It wasn’t real. In fact, I believe deep down he knew that. That’s why he never lay with them. Not one. In fact, I doubt he touched many of them.”

“Then neither is this.” But then Alice remembered his caresses, his kiss. Her heart thumped. He’d touched her.

“No, dear, you’re wrong. I know you’re his equal. The mate I’ve searched for all these years. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

“Why do you think it’s me?” And why was her freaking heart pounding so hard? It didn’t matter. None of this mattered. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t. Right? She shook her head, trying to stop the weird thought that said it was totally possible. Totally doable.

“Because you’ve loved him all your life. He’s been real for you all along, Alice. You have to make him see that. He must know the truth. Make him see you. Do whatever it takes—but make him see you. If you can make him see you, the land will accept you as part of itself. The curse will be broken.” Her blue eyes sparkled, black lashes quivering with gathering moisture.

Alice closed her eyes. “I can’t stay, Danika.” Though it was a ripping wound to say it. But she couldn’t abandon her life, her family. Not for a man she barely knew who didn’t want her anyway.

The smile turned into a frown. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, wee Alice.” Danika patted her hand. “Go find him, girl. Do not listen to the mad ramblings of a broken man. He means none of what he says and only half of what he doesn’t. You’ve got but two days, not even.” She glanced out the darkened window.

“That literally made no sense.”

Danika grinned, the twinkle back. “Aye, well, I guess he’s rubbed off on me.”

Stupid hope stirred like a lazy cat waking up, but Alice didn’t need hope. She needed to go home, back to the real world, and away from the pervasive temptation of a man who was no good for anybody.

“Do not abandon him now; there’s more to you than this.” Danika’s words echoed as she began to fade. When she was gone, the same door Alice had stepped through earlier reappeared.

It was her choice. She couldn’t look away from the door. The knowledge that he was on the other side of it was an incessant, hammering thought. She bit her tongue. It was her choice.

No! She wouldn’t go to him.

She just couldn’t.

Her foot twitched.

***

Rain poured around Hatter. The thunderous boom of the darkened sky made him feel not so alone. He sat in his favorite recliner, in the center of a wildflower-studded field. Wind howled, long saw grass swayed violently back and forth, cutting grooves into his bare hands, but he barely felt the pain.

Rain, like needle pricks, slapped at his face, drove his hair into his eyes. He didn’t care, didn’t bother to move or turn. He welcomed the rain, welcomed the deluge, hoping it would somehow erase the torment gnawing at his guts. Because she was here, in his world, and he wanted nothing more than to be where she was. Bathe in the beauty of a simple smile, touch her soft flesh and inhale the sensual scent of her body.

He’d kept his place normal. For her, after seeing how she’d panicked when she’d walked through the twists and turns of his home. She was a mortal. Human. A being incapable of comprehending and accepting the dichotomous nature of Wonderland where up wasn’t always up and down could sometimes lead nowhere.

So he’d muted it, kept it pretty. Banal. A white bird tumbled over and over, unable to catch its bearings in the tempest. It hurtled toward him, stick legs poking up at odd angles.

He snatched it just as it blew overhead.

What was this bird? He frowned. He should never have muted the magic. It was unnatural. And she wouldn’t stay. She should see it for what it really was and who cared if he scared her off? She’d leave and never come back. Just like the rest. All of them so fickle, foolish.

He’d sworn no more. Not after she’d left. The one he’d felt certain would be his Alice. But she’d been wicked, wanting nothing of him or what he’d offered.

The bird struggled in his grip, warmth flooded his palm, and suddenly the creature began to morph, to become what it really was. Its beak elongated, broadened at the tip.

So similar were the two Alices.

Its body thickened, turned a dusty shade of rose. Lightning struck right in front of him, but he didn’t jump. The bird flapped broad wings, the silver handle of its spoonbill tinkling with music as rain plopped harder and faster upon it.

Ozone swirled around him. He closed his eyes. But not all the same. This Alice was soft and sweet. She told him things. Wonderful, crazy things. Hunger for her, for his woman, clawed at his gut. He wanted to take her, claim her, and make her forget any petty desires she’d ever had for returning to her world.