Ensnared (Splintered, #3)(73)

My mind clears instantly: That’s what he said when we weathered the original ocean of tears in Wonderland.

“You came back for me.” I press myself to him, fill the words with as much awe and gratitude as when I used them to respond a year ago.

His hands cradle my head. “I’ll always come back for you, Al,” he whispers.

I hold his wrists and our heartbeats slam between us. “And that’s why you’ll always be a better man than your dad.”

His features soften to a poignant frown and he leans in to skim his mouth along mine, leaving a warm imprint of salt so illusory it could be a teardrop. The moment I start to respond, he breaks contact and pushes away.

I bite back a sigh.

He sits on his knees, appearing far too pensive for my liking. I’ve seen that look before. He’s about to scold me for taking risks.

“I won’t apologize for being reckless.” My defensive rebuttal leaps out before he can even open his mouth. “The more I think like a netherling, the more conniving and strong I become. How’s that a bad thing here?”

“You’re right.” His confession shocks me. “Listening to your darker instincts is the only way to survive and master these worlds. I get it now.”

Of course he does. He’s been around since I was an awkward kid in middle school. He knows the human side of me better than anyone. And now, after becoming a netherling in his own right, it’s given him new insight into the Wonderland side of me, too.

Goose bumps coat my arms as a breeze blows over me.

He stands. His bared skin glistens in the starlight, each chiseled line brushed with water and sugared with sand. “You’re cold. Let’s get you some clothes.”

As I start to take his hand, his eyes pass over my lingerie slowly.

“Where the hell did you get those?” He obviously recognizes the fabric. “How does that cockroach know your measurements, huh?”

I frown and drop my arm. “I could ask the same thing about your boxers. You can’t even sew a button onto a shirt. You’ve always had Jen around for that.”

He pauses, jaw clenched. Thankfully, the diary at my neck flickers and distracts him. He lifts its string. “This book . . . it has something to do with your great-great-great-grandmother, doesn’t it?”

“How do you know that?”

“You used it against her magic inside me. I saw it glowing red from across the ocean. It caused the surge. I—I even feel different.”

“You do?” I flip his wrist to study where his tattoo glows.

“Yeah. I still feel her power. It’s just . . . tamed.”

I furrow my brow. “These are memories she forced herself to forget. They’re enchanted. They hate her and want revenge.”

We both look at his palm where the diary left its imprint. He drops the string so the tiny book dangles at my neck again.

“Al, do you know what this means? You don’t have to let Red inside you to fix Wonderland. Maybe Morpheus hasn’t realized it yet—or maybe he’s too big of a jerk to care—but you have the key to reversing her destruction right there. And you’ve already learned how to master it.”

I inhale a sharp breath. Why didn’t I think of that? I can pit her memories against her damaging spell over Wonderland, use them to put everything back the way it was.

There’s a nudge inside my chest, a reminder that I have to face Red, fix my heart, and end this thing between us. But my top priority is healing Dad and leading him, Morpheus, and Jeb into Wonderland to help Mom. I’ll reverse Red’s spell on the landscapes, then come back and finish things here.

“Okay”—I sort out the new plan aloud—“all we have to do is get Dad’s cure, then we can get out of here.”

Jeb looks down on me. “You can get out.”

“Jeb, please.”

“I’ve got nothing to go back for.”

I want to scream ME! but it won’t make a dent. “You can just forget your mom and Jen? They need you.”

There’s no masking the sadness in his eyes at the mention of his family. “They’re better off with me here. I can still take care of them . . . be a liaison for the guards at the gates, protect the human realm from the inside.”

“So your plan is to stay and siphon magic off of Red forever?”

A muscle in his jaw spasms. “At least that way I get a forever.” He holds out his hand, unspoken insistence we head to the lighthouse.

A sense of enormity overwhelms me: Dad was spot-on. I’m the only one who can convince Jeb to leave this place. I have to show him that life is worth living outside this horrible realm, even if it comes with mortal limitations.

I lace my fingers through his and tug him down so we’re face-to-face. The gritty terrain jabs my naked knees.

He digs a fist into the sand. “What are you doing?”

“Reminding you that I’m still human enough to need you.” I rake my hands across his biceps and down his pecs. Water and sand crumble to shimmery, granular trails along his chest hair in my wake. As I touch him, his breath catches and his long, dark eyelashes close in exquisite agony.

I splay my fingertips and open my palm to match his cigarette burns to my scars. His muscles answer with tiny twitches, every part of him strong where I’m soft.