Ensnared (Splintered, #3)(107)



Riding an adrenaline rush, I lift my key to unlock the mirror’s glass.

Finley stops my hand. “I can’t let you do that, miss. Ivory asked they not be disturbed.”

I snatch my hand free. With one glance across the room, I conjure a pile of drop cloths in the corner to rise and hover over him like angry ghosts. Two of them stretch out with clawed fingers and clamp his arms. The others cast blue shadows across his face, awaiting my command. I’m surprised how effortlessly my feral side took over. Surprised and pleased.

“Ivory would make an exception for the Red Queen,” I snarl.

Even with my phantoms holding him, Finley doesn’t flinch. Realization crosses his face. He obviously had no idea. I can’t blame him. I don’t exactly look the part of royalty right now. “Forgive me, Majesty. I’ll be here to open the mirror from this side, when you’re done.”

I allow the cloths to fall to the floor while inserting the key into the hole formed by the cracked glass. The reflection ripples like liquid and I step in. A haze of sepia swirls around me, and a prickly sensation sweeps through my skin.

I shake off the disorientation and the scene opens to reality. A stale-smelling chill hangs on the air and snow blankets the ground. The cries and wails of restless toys pierce my eardrums.

Above it all, Jeb’s agonized scream slices through my soul.

Racing toward the sound, I stop a few steps behind Sister Two. She holds up her scissored hand, slicked with blood. Her translucent skin and graphite-colored hair are both splattered with red.

Jeb clutches his right wrist. Shimmery red lines streak from his tattoo into the grooves between his fingers, then drizzle into the snow and along his paint-stained tunic, leaving fresh bright dots.

He collapses to his knees, wailing.

“Jeb!”

He winces up at me through his pain.

Before Sister Two can react, I summon the webbed casing she’s prepared for him. The sticky strands wind around her, trapping her within her own net.

She struggles, but everything, from her multiple legs to her arms, is wrapped in a cocoon. Her blades can’t even open to snip at the binds. “How dare ye set foot on this hallowed ground!”

The voice that once tapped on my spine like branches on a windowpane has no power over me now. Instead of evoking terror, she stokes my anger—reminding me of everything she’s done to my loved ones: planning to bleed my dad dry and leave him for dead, trapping my mother here, stinging Morpheus, and chasing Jeb with the intent to hold him here forever.

“I’m a half-blood, witch,” I seethe. “My powers aren’t affected by this place. So you’re going to have to roll out the welcome mat. Your days of answering to no one are over. And Jeb is not going to be your dream-boy.” I animate another strip of web so it slaps across her lavender-colored lips, effectively silencing any response. Her blue eyes harden.

Jeb still crouches, holding his wrist. “There’s no reversing what’s already been done.” His voice is husky and tight.

What I thought were droplets of red blood on the snow merge together to form a pulse of light. It tunnels underneath the web surrounding the grave keeper. It doesn’t stop there. Snaky, glowing strands separate and spread into the roots beneath the ground that lead to every tree. The light seeps into the writhing toys, feeding them. One by one, they settle to a disturbingly serene hush.

Jeb stands. His tattoo that once glowed with power and magic—that was bleeding moments ago—is the color of his skin, healed and raised like a scar. Not even a blink of light shimmers behind it.

His eyes are different, too—a darker green, like moss in shadows. Some integral part of him has changed.

“Jeb.” I fist my hands at my sides. “I made a promise to you. For a life together.”

He shakes his head. “I release you of your vow, Al.”

At his words, I feel the difference . . . the bind I made breaking free. “No!” I lurch forward and clutch Sister Two’s neck. “What did you do to him?”

Jeb gently peels my hands off the spidery woman. “What I asked her to do. Didn’t Ivory tell you?”

“That you volunteered to be the dream-boy? Like my dad was? That’s why you’re letting me out of my promise. So I won’t be tied to a corpse.” My voice is high-pitched and desperate. Nothing like a queen’s should sound.

Jeb frowns. “You didn’t give Ivory the chance to explain, did you? You went flying all over the castle half-naked to find me without letting her finish.”

I clench my jaw.

He turns me to face him. His face flushes with color and he looks strong and healthy again. His frown turns into a smile, those dimples a vision too lovely for words. “Classic Al.”

“This isn’t funny. What you did . . . we have to undo it. There’s another way to give Wonderland dreams.”

He squints. “By you having a child with Morpheus? Are you ready for that today?”

My throat constricts. I finally know who I am without a doubt, but I’m still learning who Morpheus and I are together. I don’t want to bring our son into the picture before we’ve had time to grow, to work side by side and accept one another.

I want to do everything right this time, so I’ll never hurt Wonderland again.

Jeb takes both my hands in his. “You’ve made enough sacrifices. Your heart was ripping in half, trying to appease everyone and everything you love. You didn’t get to make the choice of where to live. It was made for you. So from this point on, anything that happens between me and you, or you and owl-bait, will be your choice. Not because of some magical promise you made me when you were desperate to save my ass from no-man’s-land. Not because of a dream-child you’re prophesied to bring into this world someday. Neither of those things should play any part right now. They’ve been taken care of. So you get to choose what role we’ll have in your lives, your terms. No time limit. No pressure.”

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