Allison and the Torrid Tea Party: Chapter 5

‘You didn’t think to tell me about the Knave?’ I ask Tee and Dee as we sit on these ridiculously comfortable red chairs in a fitting room so draped in fabric, I feel like I’m crouching inside a tent. Hoarders: Underland Edition, anyone? There’s so much fabric in here, I could easily drown in it.

‘She’s not important,’ Tee says, watching Rab as he checks his pocket watch for the thirtieth time.

‘He’s late,’ the White Rabbit grumbles, rolling his red eyes. His gaze comes to rest on March, and I see the corner of his mouth curl up into a sneer. ‘He’s late, and you’re not welcome. What do you want with a dress fitting anyhow, you stupid fuck?’

‘Oh, I’m the stupid fuck, now am I?’ March asks, reaching out to finger a pink dress on a headless mannequin. Heh. Hope that one’s not for me. I am not a fan of the color pink. ‘I’m not the one who broke the FUCKING DRINK MEs and left the Alice behind. You know, if you hadn’t done that, it’s doubtful that Raiden and I would even be here.’

Rab scowls, snapping his pocket watch closed with a finality that promises violence. So far as I know, all ‘Rabbits’, that is, servants to the Kings and Queens of Underland, have bandersnatch forms. That’s what makes them Rabbits. As for their other two forms … I intend to ask March about his Raiden form at some point.

‘It feels like you’re here simply to irritate me,’ Rab grinds out, swiveling one ear back in March’s direction. When he glances over his shoulder with those bloodred eyes of his, I get chills. ‘And you know I don’t fucking like to be irritated.’

‘Are you going to fight me in here while the Alice watches?’ March teases, his panty-melting accent dripping with disdain. ‘I’d bloody love to see you try.’

The White Rabbit turns around slowly, this cool, calculating look tracing its way over his features. I would not want to be on the receiving end of that look. He glances down at his vest and then slowly, oh so slowly, unbuttons it. Once his bare chest is revealed, he seeks out a clock and taps his finger against the tattoo.

‘Damn, it’s not quite your time to die,’ he says with a false moue of disappointment. ‘Shame, that. I was looking forward to hastening your demise.’

March just laughs and shrugs out of his velvet trench coat, tossing it onto the pink-dress wearing mannequin before striding forward in his massive combat boots. When he stands next to me, I realize how fucking tall the guy really is. I hear he’s some sort of master thief, but how the fuck does he get any sneaking around done with that big, muscular body of his?

‘If you’d like, the Alice, I could challenge Rab to a cock-race, and you could see which Rabbit fares best in a brawl.’

‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ I say, still feeling slightly lightheaded from my dance with the Caterpillar. I hate heights, but I have to say, that was one of the most miraculous things I’ve ever done. I’m suddenly desperate to do it again. How long do I have until the ball? A week? And I have lessons with Lar every day until then.

Fantastic.

My mind conjures up that moment when our mouths connected … and then dives straight into the dark, carnal delights of that vision.

I shake my head to clear it, and reach my fingers up to rub at my temples.

‘After this, we’ll go back to the room,’ Tee murmurs under his breath, giving March a dirty look, like he doesn’t appreciate him standing so close. ‘I’ll have dinner brought up.’

‘By one of those creepy card servants?’ I say, because I still can’t stop thinking about the King and how he killed one of them in cold blood. Nor can I possibly forget that he won a kiss from me—a kiss in front of the entire court.

I imagine he’ll collect at the ball. Why wouldn’t he? Fucking prick. I hate him.

‘At least you know they’re all given fair chance to defend themselves at the Trial,’ Dee says, lounging back in his chair and tapping his fingers against the red leather arm. I can see about two inches of the chair’s actual fabric peeking out beneath the mounds of cloth draped over it. This entire place is just swimming.

‘The Trial?’ I ask as March leans against a decorative column, keeping his brown eyes locked on me. It feels like he’s searching for something intangible, something I can’t name, but want to keep hidden. Maybe I’m just imagining it? Does not hurt to be paranoid in a place like this. ‘Like, there’s only one?’

‘The King holds the Trial once a week,’ Rab says, pausing in front of me and smiling in that cruel way of his, a slash across the face, sharp as a knife. ‘The accusers are tested with magic to determine their, shall we say, veracity. Some are selected for servitude … and others for execution. Rapists, murderers, traffickers, that sort of thing.’

‘I feel like you’re trying to make me hate the King less. FYI, it’s not working.’ I cross my arms over my chest and try not to sigh. Whoever this tailor person is, I’m getting mighty irritated. All I want to do is crawl up the stairs and flop into bed. Of course, now that I’ve fucked North, Tee, and Dee, it’s like sex is on the plate with all of them—it’s an option. I could go back to the room and invite them into bed with me.

Oh, it’s tempting …

‘I would never try to sway your opinion,’ Tee says, looking up from under the leather brim of his peaked cap. My mouth is aching to kiss his, to free those gorgeous wings from his back, but again, it feels weird to do it front of these other men. Not because I’m ashamed or embarrassed, but because it feels like special moments with Tee should be private. ‘I just want to reiterate: if any of those people were innocent, Dee and I would’ve made a stand a long time ago.’

Exhaling, I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, crossing my legs at the ankle. With the twins around, I feel safe. Maybe I shouldn’t, considering I did get kidnapped out of North’s house, but I do anyway. Since the biggest, baddest mercenary in all the land is now supposedly engaged to my ass, I may as well relax.

The sound of a curtain swishing back draws my attention, and I crack my eyes to see Rab slipping out of his vest, and slipping into … another vest.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask him as he picks up a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles from a side table and perches them on the end of his nose, peering at me over the top of them.

‘I’ve just received a text from the King,’ Rab says, shaking his phone in my direction. Every freaking time I see one of these weirdos holding what looks like the newest iPhone, I have a mini heart attack. It’s just too weird to be sitting in a castle, being fitted for a ball, and seeing the King’s servant holding something that looks like it could be browsing social media or looking up porn. ‘The tailor was executed this morning, so I’ll be acting tailor until we can find a new one.’

‘Do you know anything at all about sewing clothes?’ I ask as Rab buttons up his new brown leather vest and rolls up his sleeves to reveal a sea of glorious ink. It feels like every time I look at him, I notice something new. My eyes catch on a sea of ghosts drifting up from a graveyard toward a full moon. Very pretty, very me. I would totally get something like that tattooed on my body.

‘I’ve sewn flesh before, does that count?’ Rab asks, which is not a particularly comforting sentiment.

‘Flesh?’ I ask as he holds out a tattooed hand, gesturing for me to step up on a round dais surrounded by mirrors. There are a lot of fucking mirrors here. I wonder if Brennin Red has one above his bed?

Aaaand, why am I thinking about Brennin Red’s bed anyway?

‘You know, battle wounds and all that,’ Rab replies, but his voice is too smooth and practiced. He’s lying to me. And the sad part is, I don’t actually want to know the truth anyway.

‘Since when have you ever sewn up a wound, mate?’ March asks, trailing along behind me as I stand up and head for the dais, shrugging out of my coat and boots. Reluctantly, I also set the Queenmaker and the Vorpal Blade aside. ‘Usually you’re the one making them.’

‘I’ve been known to show compassion,’ Rab says as he grins at me, white ears twitching atop his head. I can smell him from here, this musty, earthy scent mixed with the copper reek of blood. I shouldn’t find it appealing, but I do. My nipples pebble beneath my shirt, and I curse under my breath.

Great.

He’s going to measure me, and I’ve got my headlights turned on bright.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Tee and Dee flank either side of the dais, arms crossed over their chests in identical positions. One has wings, and one doesn’t. That makes me sad somehow.

‘You? Compassion?’ I ask as Rab slides a cloth measuring tape from a hook, winding it around his hand as he watches me with those red, red eyes of his. He manages to make the motion sexy, wrapping it around two fingers and suggestively licking his lower lip.

I roll my eyes.

Hey, I can’t help it: I’m a fucking young adult. It’s in our DNA to do annoying shit.

‘Sorry, but I can’t see it,’ I say as Rab steps closer and March circles around behind the dais, balancing a knife on the tip of his finger. ‘You being compassionate, I mean. Isn’t that against the very nature of a sociopath?’

I’m smirking when Rab comes around in front of me, but that quickly dies when he leans in and wraps the measuring tape around my waist, tugging it tight and stealing my breath away. His mouth is disturbingly close to my nipple.

‘Psychopath, you mean,’ Rab whispers, taking note of the numbers on the measuring tape and calling them out to March, of all people. The brown-eared Rabbit takes the knife in his hand and carves the measurements into the wooden stand of a dress form. ‘And you’re right: I have no compassion. What was I thinking?’

He slides the measuring tape up in the back and then cocks a dark brow at me.

‘Well? Do I have permission to touch the Alice’s luscious breasts?’ Rab doesn’t look ashamed to be asking. Nor does he look professional, as a tailor should. Instead, he’s just … lascivious. I hate him. Okay, not really. I hate the King and the Hatter maybe, but not the White Rabbit, not even if he shot Brandon in the head right in front of me.

After all, it led me here.

And I’m starting to like it.

‘Provided you act a gentleman,’ I say, lifting my chin as Rab pulls the measuring tape up and over my breasts … riiiiiight over the pert points of my nipples. It feels good, even through the shirt and the knife-filled corset underneath it.

‘I never act a gentleman,’ Rab purrs, his voice like a frost-covered branch collapsing under the weight of fresh snow. It’s like he’s having as much trouble touching my boobs as I am having them touched.

‘How long is this going to take?’ Tee snaps, flicking his attention between March and Rab. Clearly, he’s not much of a fan of either Rabbit.

‘The more times you ask that, the longer it takes,’ Rab purrs, squeezing the measuring tape around my breasts and forcing a sharp exhale between my lips. I feel almost as lightheaded now as I did when I was dancing with Lar in the ballroom. But … at least my situation’s a why choose moment, right? I can’t imagine having to pick between these men. That’d kill me.

‘The Alice needs her sleep,’ Tee grinds out, grabbing the lapels on his jacket and forcefully straightening out the fabric with a sharp snap. ‘So save your dirty flirtations for another day.’

Rab ignores him, moving down to measure my ass next. I’ve never been measured for clothing before—ever heard of Target, anyone?—so I’m not sure how orthodox any of this, but I like it.

‘Don’t you dare cop a feel,’ I whisper, and Rab pauses to look up at me. He’s so gloriously sexy, dripping in ink, his hair black as black, his eyes as vibrant and piercing as his tattoos. ‘You may measure my ass, but be a gentleman.‘

‘How boring,’ Rab drawls with a sigh, but even though he’s a psycho murderer, he keeps it respectful as he wraps me in the measuring tape again. ‘Like I said, most definitely not a Mary Sue.’

I almost smile, because I can hear the teasing note in his voice, and I like that, too. But then something occurs to me.

‘How do you know what a Mary Sue is anyway? That’s a term coined Topside.’ I like the way I refer to my own world as Topside now, like it’s as easy as breathing. Something about that makes me happy. Clearly, I’ve gone mad.

‘I spend a lot of time Topside, Sonny.’ Rab stands up and reaches for one of my arms, pushing my sleeves up and making my skin pebble with pleasure, like he’s petting me or something. ‘I know what a Mary Sue is, I prefer Pepsi to Coke, and I do looove to read manga.’

‘Manga?’ I ask as Rab measures my leg, my foot, my … ear? And then lastly, my head. I suppose that makes sense, seeing as I could be getting a custom hat. But my ear? Sigh. ‘You read manga, like Japanese comics?’

‘Exactly that,’ Rab says as he finishes up and steps back, looking me up and down with a sly smile. ‘Surprised?’

‘Honestly, no,’ I say, sensing that we’re done, and hopping down from the dais. ‘It suits you.’ I pause and glance down at my button-up shirt, fingering the fabric as I narrow my eyes. ‘Wait a minute. When I got here, there was a closet full of clothes, all in my size. Actually, I’ve never had clothes that fit better than the ones that are in my room upstairs.’ I raise both eyebrows and glance between the four men. ‘So what is this fitting all about?’

‘We’re not measuring your body, you cheeky twat, just taking your mettle.’ March pauses next to me and grins, grabbing his velvet trench off the mannequin and fishing out a small note. ‘Here.’

‘What is this?’ I ask, as he pulls out a small green vial, flashes me a sharp grin, and then tosses the small glass item on the floor to shatter. Smoke billows out, smelling like sour green apples and sugar, and when I blink through it, the March Hare is gone.

I unfold the note as Tee steps forward to explain.

‘This isn’t about body measurements—we need your mettle, that is, how resistant you are to magic. Your dress for the ball is going to have spells woven into it.’ I glance down at the note—there’s a location and a time scribbled on it—and then back up at Tee.

‘And who’s going to cast those spells?’ I ask, already fearing the answer.

‘The Knave …’ Tee says, and then pauses, glancing over at his brother. They both turn to look at me as Rab pockets his borrowed wire spectacles. ‘We’re not happy about it either, but … King’s orders.’

‘Well, clearly the King wants me dead because I don’t trust the Knave for shit.’ I stare at the note again. Tomorrow, same time. Ask where the dungeon is.

Oh, the dungeon, huh? That sounds promising.

I crumple the note up and chuck it toward a half-full trash can. Tee intercepts it in mid-air, and opens it to read it, scowling as he goes about it.

‘She cursed you both, and you want me to wear a dress with her magic in it? No way, no how.’ I cross my arms over my chest as Tee passes the note to Dee. The twins exchange a look.

‘I’ll be with you the whole time, Miss Alice,’ Rab says, grinning maniacally at me. ‘I wouldn’t worry about the Knave. As much as she dislikes you, she quite likes the King … and she also likes keeping her head. Besides, you’ll have an ace in the pocket, so to speak.’ As I watch, Rab’s ears shrink toward his head, becoming rounder the smaller they get. At the same time, his body folds inward, and bright white fur sprouts up over his skin and clothes.

Before my mind can even register what’s happening, there’s a tiny mouse clawing his way up my pants and clinging to the hem of my button-up shirt.

Wish I could say I was shocked. Instead, I just scoop the mouse up and hand him over to Tee, so I can put my jacket back on. As soon as I do, I pop the Rab-mouse into my pocket.

‘I will be your eyes and ears at the ball,’ he says, tiny pink nose twitching. It’s fucking weird as fuck, but the mouse-Rab has tattoos on his naked little rodent feet. One of them is tick-tick-ticking away. ‘As well as your teeth and claws.’

Oddly enough, I do feel better.

‘After the Knave spells your dress, Dee and I will check it out, don’t worry.’ Tee reaches out and squeezes my hand, and I nod.

But I have a funny feeling about the Knave.

And a woman should always trust her instincts.

Dinner is turtle soup which sort of creeps me the fuck out.

‘Beautiful soup, so rich and green, waiting in a hot tureen,‘ Dee singsongs as he ladles me a bowl and passes it over. I take it, but only begrudgingly, and only because I’m starving and tired. Snatching a bit of cheese from the refreshments table, I pass it down to Rab who’s been transferred from my jacket pocket to my pj’s pocket.

Chesh watches him hungrily from his perch on the cat tree.

‘Put the little mouse down, and we’ll have some fun,’ he says, pupils dilated, tongue sliding across his lower lip. ‘Play a little game of cat and mouse.’

‘How about a little game of cat and bandersnatch?’ Rab says, his icy voice the same in his mouse form as it is in his … human? is he a human? … anyway, same as in his human form. It’s a tad disconcerting.

‘That doesn’t sound nearly as fun,’ Chesh purrs, stretching and then wincing slightly. He reaches down and touches his side. There’s no blood there, just a phantom pain, but according to the Duke, it takes a while for the Vorpal Blade’s magic to run its course. Poor Chesh really is still hurting, despite the Mad Hatter’s intervention.

I sit down on the bed, and Tee moves forward to fluff my pillows for me.

‘You don’t have to do that, you know,’ I say, feeling a slight blush color my cheeks. And I am not a girl who blushes easily. It’s not that I don’t like being fawned over, but I just sort of feel bad when Tee does it. He’s too princely, too regal.

‘I don’t have to; I want to,’ he whispers, making me comfortable before retreating to grab his own bowl.

My room is bustling, far from the quiet little sanctuary I thought it was going to be.

Every one of my wannabe lovers save Red, Raiden, and March are here.

‘Was I dreaming or did you cast some sort of spell on me while I was sleeping?’ I ask Lar, looking at the green soup on my spoon and seriously debating if I’d rather live off cupcakes and candied honeybees for the rest of my stay here. There’s even a plate of brightly colored mushrooms that each taste like a different fruit. How desperate am I for a hot meal right now?

‘I cast a spell,’ he says, eating his own soup in a way that’s undeniably sexy. He puts the metal spoon into his mouth, sucks on it, twists it around, and pulls it out oh so slowly. ‘Just to give your body a small reprieve from the pain.’

‘You knocked me out?’ I give him a look that says that sort of pisses me off. Although, to be fair, I’m glad I slept through most of the day yesterday. That agony I felt when I used my magic was almost incomprehensible.

‘No, I cut a small hole in your natural aura, so the extra magic would bleed out.’ Lar lets his wings hang loosely over the arms of the chair, like two glorious glittering tapestries.

‘The Caterpillar isn’t just a soothsayer,’ North purrs, lounging on the chaise at the end of the bed, black tail curled around the bedpost. ‘He’s a fine curseworker in his own right.’

‘You flatter me,’ Lar says, putting his spoon down and setting his bowl aside. He crosses his legs and steeples his fingers atop his knee. Some men might look ridiculous in blue and white pinstriped pj’s, but not him. He’s a fucking enigma, and I love it. ‘But the Knave is better.’

‘Is there a difference between witches and curseworkers?’ I ask, because I’ve heard the men use them interchangeably. Closing my eyes, I take a quick bite of my soup and pray to whatever goddesses rule over Underland that it won’t taste so bad I puke.

Ohmyfuckinggod, that’s good!

Turtle tastes like … veal.

And the broth is spicy and flavorful, a punch to the tongue that reminds me of Fred’s favorite Indian restaurant. But then I swallow, and the yummy flavor leaves my mouth, making room for melancholy. When Fred was alive, we fought like cats and dogs. Now that he’s gone, I miss him so much that I feel like I’m having period cramps even when I’m not.

I take another bite of soup to ward off the agony of missing my brother.

‘Synonyms,’ Dee says, flopping down on the bed and somehow managing not to spill a single drop of soup. His wings are gone, disappeared in a flash at midnight, but since he’s shirtless, I can see the beautiful tattoos they make along his back. Drool-worthy. ‘But the Knave is the highest ranking curseworker in the Kingdom of Hearts, which means she can throttle the power of other curseworkers.’ He takes a few bites of soup, blue-black hair falling across his forehead.

‘She has you on a leash?’ I ask, and I can see Lar’s mouth tighten at the corners. Maybe that wasn’t the best way to phrase things?

‘Only the King holds my reins,’ the Caterpillar says, taking out a small pipe and fingering it for a moment. As soon as I see it, I’m reminded of his prophecy in the ballroom: we’re supposedly going to have sex one day.

Wish I were shocked by that.

But then it’s like he doesn’t have the strength to see anything else today and pockets the pipe instead, pulling out a cigarette and smoking that while Rab’s mousy nose twitches. Without thinking, I reach down and stroke the mouse’s tiny head. I’m stroking the tattooed asshole assassin, I realize, but I don’t stop doing it either.

‘I’m just not permitted to use magic beyond a certain extent,’ Lar says, flicking his tongue across his lower lip and gently fanning his wings. He taps his cigarette ash into a gold tray shaped like a mouth, and I swear to fuck, it burps afterward.

‘So you can’t spell my dress?’ I ask, still unsure how I feel about the Knave putting her stupid cursing fingers on it. She messed with the twins, violated them in a way I’m not even sure I understand; she took away their wings. I’m not okay with any of that.

‘No, but I’ll check it over—we all will. Sunshine, we won’t let anyone or anything rain on your parade.’ Lar flaps his wings hard, sending glitter and brilliant blue-gold dust into the room. In his place, there’s a small butterfly that flits over to one of the flowers from Dee’s bouquet and rests gently on a white petal.

I have a feeling that Lar is not a shifter like Rab; he’s gone to his room or wherever else. The butterfly is just that, just a beautiful insect.

‘I want to sleep in here tonight,’ Chesh purrs, melting into his cat form and giving me a very dramatic stretch with his tail straight up in the air.

‘Agreed,’ North says as I pull the Rab-mouse from my pocket, and set him on the end of the bed. ‘I say, banish those that aren’t in the Alice’s harem and leave the rest of us.’

‘Right little bugger,’ Rab growls as he grows in size, his fur sucking back into his skin, his ears elongating into a rabbit’s, and his clothes falling neatly back into place. So Dee claims that North’s clothes don’t shift because he was cursed into becoming a jabberwock, while Rab was born a shifter and gets to keep his. Makes about as much sense as anything else I’ve learned here. ‘Nice trick, but the cat can’t stay either, now can he?’

The White Rabbit slides off of my bed then turns to face me, looking down at me with a lascivious little smirk. He pushes his shirt sleeves up, flashing brightly colored tattoos.

‘Tell me I’m a part of your harem, and I’ll stay. I’ll even fuck you if you want.’

I smile sweetly back at him.

‘Get the hell out of my room,’ I sneer, and he grins, sliding the gold key from his pocket and heading for—surprise, surprise—the painting that features the infamous Tenniel image of the white rabbit checking his pocket watch.

I wait until he leaves before I take the last bite of my soup and set the bowl aside.

‘Please tell me I can join your harem?’ Chesh begs, padding across the air toward me, leaving little glowing paw prints floating behind him for a brief moment. He hops onto the bed and bats at my bare feet. ‘Ask your primary if I can join. I promise I’ll be good.’ The Cheshire cat climbs up my legs to sit in my lap, looking up at me with big, round gray eyes, like two full moons in a night sky.

‘Go to your room,’ I tell him, whittling down the men in my bedchamber to the ones I’ve fucked. Not sure if that’s a good idea or if I’m just crazy.

Chesh shifts into human form, still sitting in my lap, and all of a sudden, it’s not so cute or cuddly anymore. The tags on his collar jingle as he leans in toward me, one tiny fang peeking up over the edge of his lip. He’s glorious, covered in tattoos, his vest gaping open to reveal the hard muscles underneath.

‘I’ll purr for you,’ he says, putting his mouth close to my ear. Chesh curls his fingers around my upper arm, and then licks my ear. I reach up and give his silver hoops a tug. He has them on both his kitty ears and his human ears.

‘I’m glad you’re not dead,’ I tell him as he pulls back just enough that his mouth is near mine. I can smell sweet cream and cupcakes on his breath, and I wish I could kiss him. But I’ve already kissed one stranger today, and that’s enough. ‘Go to sleep, and we’ll talk later.’

‘About me joining your harem?’ he presses, and I flick him in the ear. I’d be mad if I thought Chesh was pushing at me like a typical misogynistic a-hole. He’s not though. He’s just lonely. If he really is the last of his kind, I can’t blame him.

‘Bed, now,’ North says, waving his hand lazily in the direction of the jabberwock painting. There’s another one next to it though, one with a big smiling Cheshire Cat on it. I open the nightstand drawer, take out a key, and hand it to Chesh.

He curls his fingers around it, and meets my eyes with a much more serious expression on his handsome face.

‘Thank you, Allison.’

It’s the first time he’s ever called me by my real name.

Chesh curls his tail around my wrist as he turns, sliding the silky fur across my skin before he wanders off, unlocks his door, and leaves the room.

There’s a certain finality to it when it closes.

‘If I’d … sucked Tee off and swallowed, would you have had to eat some of his jizz, too?’ I blurt at Dee, and I really wonder why the fuck I chose that moment to ask that question. He blinks big blue eyes at me. ‘I mean, when we first met, and you wanted me to go through the garden door …’

Dee lays back in the pillows and laughs while Tee flushes and turns down the lights.

The look he throws North is not particularly pleasant.

‘I wouldn’t have sucked my brother off if that’s what you’re asking,’ Dee chortles, chest heaving with laughter. ‘Just a little lick or a taste would’ve worked fine. I could’ve kissed you after and gotten enough to make the change, I’d think.’

‘I could’ve just … tasted some and gotten small?’ I ask, wondering how a blow job would work with these guys. If I got even a little bit of cum on my lips, I’d grow or shrink depending on the twin? Sounds inconvenient. Yep, I am definitely going to break this curse. ‘Still gross, and I wouldn’t have done it,’ I say, wondering what might’ve happened if Rab hadn’t broken those bottles. Where would I be now? Home? The thought makes me uncomfortable. Would I still be here, lying in a half-dark room with these three men? Or sitting alone in my parents’ quiet, broken home? ‘But really?’

‘You have to swallow a certain amount for it to work, but basically, yes.’ Tee collects the empty soup bowls and spoons, setting them all on the refreshments table where I assume a card servant will come to collect them.

I lay back in the pillows and try not to seriously love the way all the linens smell here, like sunshine and wind. Back home, I had to do my own laundry, so let’s be honest: my sheets did not smell even half this good, more like old Victoria’s secret perfume and sweat.

‘Enough about angel jizz,’ North growls, peeping his head up over the footboard to stare at me from narrowed, gold eyes. ‘You wanted us in here for a reason.’

‘Maybe she wants to discuss the nine?’ Tee asks with a sigh, picking up my jacket from the floor and hanging it on one of the creepy, moving hooks.

‘Maybe she wants to hear the rest of the prophecy?’ Dee inserts, humming a tune under his breath.

‘But nine young suitors hurried up,

All eager for their treat:

Their hair was brushed, their faces washed,

Their clothes were clean and neat—

And this was good, because, you know,

To date the Alice was a feat.’

He starts reciting it, but North cuts him off, growling out another verse as he waves his hand dismissively.

‘For all the monsters followed her,

They craved her bloody corpse;

So thick and fast the hordes attacked,

Just more, and more, and more—

All hoping for a bite or two,

Her men must prevent gore.’

‘There, you’ve heard quite enough of that nonsense,’ he says, climbing up over the footboard and crouching like a beast on the end of the bed. Tee moves over and sits beside me, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘Let’s talk shop.’

‘There is no shop,’ I snort. ‘My vagina is not an open garage.’

‘A garage?’ North asks, thinking hard on the word. ‘I’m not sure I know what that is. What I do know is that I am particularly interested in your vagina, for lack of a better word.’

With a groan, I flop back into the pillows and cover my eyes with my arm.

‘Please don’t say vagina,” I moan, feeling awkward tingles trace over my skin. I’m hot and achy inside, and I don’t know what to say or do. I’m totally flubbing this moment up. Wait, flubbing? Where did that word come from? “I just … want to let you guys know that I’m not planning on running out and leaving you here.’ I move my arm off my eyes and pick at the edge of my blanket as Dee leans in close to me, pushing some rainbow strands of hair back from my forehead.

‘You want to stay?’ he whispers, and I shrug loosely.

‘I want to help you,’ I continue, ‘for as long as it takes. I might … even want to stay. That doesn’t mean I don’t need to go home.’ I look up and find Tee watching me. ‘Because I do, but I want to be able to go back and forth, like Rab.’

‘Do you want me to show you?’ Tee asks, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black linen pajama pants. He’s wearing a tank top that shows off the muscles in his arms, and the purple and black feathers on the back of them. I swear on some Underland goddess’ tits that if Edith and I had been watching a movie with Tee and Dee in it, I would’ve ended the film with my chest covered in drool.

‘The Looking-Glass?’

I glance between the three men, and then back to Tee; he nods.

‘Oh bloody hell,’ North growls out, but he stands up, too. ‘If Red finds us slinking around the Looking-Glass, he’ll be furious.’ He taps a clawed finger against his lips and then shrugs those massive shoulders of his. ‘Oh well, I suppose it can’t be helped. Were he to act a gentleman, he’d have offered the Alice use of it already.’

‘I understand not wanting to leave the portal open for the Walrus and his ilk, but I agree.’ Tee looks into my eyes, and I feel a shiver trace down my spine. He’s got an old soul, that one. ‘You deserve a chance to see your family.’

‘You never realize how important they are until you lose them,’ Dee chokes out, standing up from the bed and grabbing his peaked cap off the nightstand. He tucks it over his blue and black hair, and then spins it around with a finger on the brim. ‘Let’s go see the Looking-Glass, Allison-who-isn’t-Alice.’

My heart thunders in my chest, and I realize suddenly that I’m afraid.

And not of the King or the Hatter, not even of the Walrus and the Carpenter.

I’m afraid of going home.

Sometimes, our greatest fears are not our most obvious. Sometimes, our darkest terrors hide in plain sight.

‘So,’ I whisper as we walk down the dark hallways, a shirtless dragon on my left, and twin fallen angel princes on my right. ‘Do the card servants …’ I trail off and lick my lips. I understand that they’re just cursed convicts, but they do bear an awful resemblance to the soldiers in Dee’s vision-memory thing.

But then, I haven’t told him that I saw that, so how do I even go about asking?

‘They’re just cursed souls, don’t worry about them,’ Tee says while Dee grabs a torch off the wall as we pass. There are tapestries everywhere in here, and I swear to fuck, it feels like some of them are watching me.

‘If the King can enchant them to be servants, then couldn’t he make soldiers, too?’ I hedge, hoping I’m not pushing too hard. I don’t want to make the boys relive their trauma, but I’m dying to know.

‘It’s not the King that enchants them, though he could,’ Dee says, his face paling slightly as he taps a finger against the brim of his hat. He’s trying to be casual, but I can see right through that facade to the pain underneath. ‘It’s the Knave that spells them. And yes, when the previous King of Hearts ruled Underland, he did order her to create soldiers.’

‘But not anymore?’ I ask, and the twins exchange a look.

‘Brennin Red doesn’t need or want those sorts of soldiers in his army,’ North growls, slamming his tail against the stone floor as we walk. ‘He’s nothing like his father.’

‘So you say,’ Tee snaps back, raking his fingers through his hair. ‘And yet, we’re still slaves. Underland stills suffers. The guillotine runs non-stop.’

‘He’s different,’ North snarls back, and I start to wonder if I might have to insert myself between the two men. ‘And he’s only been on the throne for three years. Try cutting him a break, hmm?’

‘It would take two seconds for him to free us,’ Dee whispers, reaching over his shoulder to touch his tattoo. He looks over at North who grits his teeth.

‘The Knave won’t allow him to do it; he’s tried.’

‘Bullshit,’ Tee quips, but then we’re all standing before a massive red door in the shape of—you will never guess this shit—a heart. Le gasp.

‘This is it?’ I ask, glancing over my shoulder and down the long stone hallway we just traversed. A dozen hallways and who knows how many staircases later, and we’re here. I was almost hoping we’d have to, I don’t know, cross a moat or something. Some part of me wants the Looking-Glass as far away from me as possible.

Who knew I had such trauma?

I clutch the front of my pj’s in a fist as Tee pulls a chain out from beneath his shirt, a pair of keys hanging from the end of it. One of them is the key I gave him to access a Suit in my room, but the other is twice as big and made of solid iron.

‘Keeps the pixies from pinching it,’ Dee explains with a sharp nod, like that makes all the sense in the world. Right. An iron key keeps magical flower-possessing pixies from stealing it. Sounds good.

Tee unlocks the door and steps inside, holding out a hand for mine. I take his in one, and Dee’s in the other, moving slowly into the room and pausing on a ledge with a gold banister separating us from the rest of the room.

Down below … there’s a giant chessboard in black and white.

‘Holy butt waffles,’ I choke out, making Dee chuckle.

As we watch, one of the giant chess pieces—easily as tall as North if not taller—slides across the board into a new space. It’s the red king, moving out of a ‘check’ by the black knight.

The pieces seem to be made of some solid stone, like granite or marble, their faces frozen and silent, but menacing nonetheless. What would happen if I went down there and joined the Game?

‘To get through to the Looking-Glass, you’ll have to win against the black pieces,’ Dee explains, leaning his elbows on the gold banister and waiting for red to make their move. The red queen slides across the board, and a shiver travels down my spine.

‘Don’t get too close to the edge,’ Tee says, reaching out to grab a handful of his brother’s shirt. ‘You’ve seen what those things can do if you piss them off.’

‘If you’re not standing on edge, then you’re taking up too much space,’ North says, crossing his arms over his bare, bronzed chest, and watching the Game play out below us. On the other side of the room, there’s a mirror leaning against the wall.

It doesn’t appear to be anything but a mirror from over here. I can even see the reflection of the chessboard and pieces in its silver surface. That’s not to say it isn’t gorgeous—it really is—with big gilded gold edges, a filigreed pattern etched into the swirling bits of metal. The frame reminds me of a winter-dead tree, its spindly branches reaching out to the edge of the world. If I saw that online back home, I’d order it. If I could afford it, that is.

‘That’s the Looking-Glass?’ I ask, and both Tee and Dee reply at the same time.

‘It is.’

Curling my fingers around Tee’s, I struggle to keep my feet in place.

I want to run.

Because going back home means facing all the unspoken issues I left behind. It means remembering that Dad is never home anymore, that Mom is never coming home, that Edith is drifting further and further away from the girl she used to be.

‘If I win the Game, I can cross through the Looking-Glass?’ I repeat, and North nods.

‘But nobody has ever won the Game without the King’s permission to play; it’s rigged. You cannot win without Red’s say-so.’ The jabberwock shifter glances over his shoulder at the sound of skittering feet out in the hallway. ‘Card servants,’ he explains before he looks back at us, ‘probably collecting information for the Knave. We should be going before she sends her ridiculous husbands after us.’

‘We’ll figure out a way to get you home,’ Tee says, the conviction in his voice warming my insides. Before, I think he wanted to send me home for my own sake, but now I think he’s just desperate to make sure I get a chance to reconnect with my family.

I love him for that.

Love him?!

Ew. No. No, I do not fucking love him. What is this, some young adult romance novel?! Gross.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ I say, feeling that hot heat between my thighs start to pulse. Just the idea of taking the three of them to my room turns me on. It’s persistent, that throbbing, desperate need, when I’m around these guys.

All three men turn to look at me.

Oh yes.

That invitation, it’s as lascivious as it sounds.

‘Are there any lions or tigers about here?’ I ask as Tee unlocks the door to my chambers and pushes it open just enough that I hear a rumble from inside.

‘It’s only the Red King snoring,’ Dee says with a chuckle, pushing the door open the rest of the way and revealing a dark bedroom bathed in moonlight and shadows from the dying fire.

‘Isn’t he a lovely sight?’ Tee says with clenched teeth, moving into the room to stand beside my bed.

I couldn’t say honestly that he is. He has a tall, red night-cap on, with a tassel, and he’s lying crumpled into a sort of untidy heap, snoring loudly.

Wow.

Talk about … total shock.

This man looks about as far from the dignified dickhead I’ve been dealing with as anything I’ve ever seen. He may as well have shape-shifted into a baby kitten.

‘He’s dreaming now,’ North says, cocking his head to one side. ‘What do you suppose he’s dreaming about? The Alice’s creamy thighs?’

‘You’re disgusting,’ I choke out, feeling like the King’s just doused my hot, summer—wait, what season is it in Underland?—night in ice water. ‘What is he doing in my bed anyway?’

‘That’s an excellent question,’ Tee growls as Dee fills a small glass with water and moves over to stand next to Brennin Red’s face. I notice that even in his sleep, he still wears gloves.

‘If you try to wake him up by touching him …’ Dee starts with a shrug, drawing his thumb across his throat. I get it: off with his head. So, much to my horror and chagrin, the younger twin tosses cold water onto the King’s sleeping face.

He comes to like a wild animal disturbed in its den, eyes snapping open, one hand reaching for his glove. It’s half off, and he’s off the bed before I can even register what’s going on. I catch a glimpse of a red palm before he realizes it’s just us, and tucks his fingers back into the white fabric.

‘A simple curseworker incantation can turn a person’s hands red if they’re guilty of murder.’ Tee’s words ring in my head as I raise an eyebrow.

‘What are you doing in my room?’ I query, crossing my arms over my chest.

‘And how did you even get in?’ North asks, tilting his head to one side. His gold hair slides around his dark horns. ‘Only the Alice or one of her Suitors can let someone into the Suit of Hearts.’

‘Rab allowed me in,’ Brennin says, lifting his chin and still managing to look like some entitled asshole CEO with a bad attitude, even in his stupid night-cap. ‘I needed a place to rest my head tonight that might allow me to keep it.’ The way he says that, biting off the words, it sort of scares the shit out of me.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Is the King afraid in his own castle? If so, how the hell am I supposed to feel safe here?

‘Don’t you have your own chambers?’ I snort, and Red narrows those ebon eyes on me.

‘Nowhere in Castle Heart is as safe as the Alice’s chambers. I was going to head to my own room, but my keys seem to have been misplaced.’ As Brennin talks, his teeth clench even tighter, and his jaw tightens to the point where I swear it may very well just fall off. ‘Rab let me in, and then I started to wonder where you all went.’ He gives North a look, like he’s disappointed in him. ‘Sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night, tsk-tsk, Savage Duke.’

‘The Alice wants to use the Looking-Glass,’ North says, and Brennin scowls, tearing the cap off his head and tossing it aside. I swear to fuck, I see it glow. ‘She has a right, certainly, considering she hails from Topside.’

‘She has no right,’ Red snarls, giving me a look over his shoulder that could curdle milk. ‘Any use of the Looking-Glass leaves us open to assault from both Underland and Topside. It isn’t happening, not until I get things under control.’ The King turns back to the window and watches the rain pour down the glass. ‘And then don’t worry: I’ll ship the Alice back to where she belongs.’

‘I don’t—’ Tee starts, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him, storming up to the King and getting in his face.

‘You don’t know anything about me, and you haven’t bothered to try to learn. I don’t want to go back home forever, I just want to see my family and let them know I’m alright. I’m committed to this shit now, okay? I’m in. For fuck’s sake, if you’re going to make accusations, at least get the facts straight first.’

The King whirls on me, and I can see in his eyes that he’s not used to being defied.

He raises a finger in my face.

‘And you don’t know anything about this world or its problems. You are not the savior, just a piece on a board to be moved. So, Alice, just go where I tell you and do what I say. And what I say is: don’t bother wondering around the fucking castle unless you want to lose your head.’

Brennin reaches down and into the pocket on my nightgown where I’ve stashed the keys to the Suits. I keep them on a ring with the master key when I leave the room, just in case. He takes one of the keys off, and then throws the others on the floor, moving to a painting of the King of Hearts, sitting on his throne and holding a heart-topped scepter.

That fucker …

I follow after him because I’m not about to be disrespected like that. I let Liam treat me like shit for so long; I will never let another man walk all over me.

‘Listen up, buddy,’ I snap as I step into the dark hallway, and the painting swings shut behind me, trapping me inside with the King. He turns around to look me, completely aghast that I’ve dared follow him.

Dickhead.

‘You need to learn to control your temper.’ Brennin steps up close to me, but I’m not afraid of him. I’ve faced the worst in life; this is nothing. ‘If you want my help—no, if you need it, and I think you really do—then you have to tell me what’s going on.’

The King just stares down at me, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth, his fists curled tight, his breathing coming in hard, angry pants. I’m breathing fast, too, and sweating profusely. My fight or flight instinct has kicked in, and I am so done with this man’s shit.

‘Just show up at the ball, and do what you’re told,’ he snaps, and I reach up to grab the front of his robes without meaning to.

‘Don’t boss me around like I’m a fucking dog!’ I shout, and then … something just snaps between us. One minute I’m grabbing the King and getting ready to shake him to death, and the next, my back is pressed to the stone wall, my arms are around his neck, and his mouth is on mine.

The first hot press of his tongue between my lips drags a groan from my throat that echoes down the dark stone hallway. The throbbing warmth between my thighs floods with wetness, and before I know it, I’m letting the King lift me up and press me against the wall. Our bodies grind together in this hot, sweaty tangle, our mouths feeding at one another. It’s like for a split-second there, I’m not even human anymore.

With a gasp, I shove the King back, and he stumbles, dropping me to the floor. I manage to catch myself on the wall, my knees weak and shaky beneath me. My eyes are wide, and I’m just staring at the floor like I can’t figure myself out.

‘My Queen of Hearts,’ the King says, and there’s this break in his voice that tells me all I need to know. I was right: I bruised his ego. He fucking wants me, doesn’t he? ‘I told you that you were meant to be mine.’

He takes off down the hall before I can figure out a retort.

Doesn’t matter anyway, because all I can think to say is: no, you were meant to be mine.

‘I’m sorry about last night,’ I say as the twins walk me to the athletic center, one on either side. North and Chesh were gone when I woke up, but Rab and Lar joined me for breakfast. So did March, but I chose to ignore him. It’s pretty obvious the Hatter is sending him to keep an eye on me.

I don’t trust that fucker as far as I can throw him.

‘You don’t have to apologize,’ Tee says, but the way he keeps his eyes on the floor makes me wonder if I should. I wanted last night to get lascivious … and I suppose it did, just not with the right guy. Or guys, rather.

‘The King has a powerful presence,’ Dee says, looking up at the ceiling. We pass by several empty sitting rooms as we head down the stairs, take a sharp right, and then another hard left. One more right to get the gym. At least it seems I’m starting to get the layout of Castle Heart down.

‘I wanted to spend the night with you,’ I whisper, drawing both twins’ attention my way. Dee opens his mouth to say something else, but when we come around the next corner, we stumble on the Knave and her creepy husbands. They’re all dressed in black, with tiny pops of red hearts.

‘Good morning, the Alice,’ the Knave says, looking me over and then flicking her eyes to either twin with this awful, smug sort of expression, probably enjoying the fact their wings are not out.

‘It’d be a better morning if this curse were broken,’ I say, pointing opposite hands at either twin so that my arms make a cross in front of my chest. ‘We’re all on the same side here, so what say you?’

‘I say your friends still have a lot to learn,’ she says, her brunette hair swept into a perfect bun, her tiny crown sitting pretty on top of her head. Her green eyes bore into me, and I know for a fact that this fancy dress she’s spelling for the ball, we’ll have to check it very carefully. The Knave wants me gone; I can see that plain as day. ‘Once I feel they’ve learned their lesson, I’ll remove the spell.’

‘You mean once we bow down and kiss both your feet, and the King’s?’ Tee snaps, curling his lip up in a snarl. ‘I’ll keep the curse.’

‘Suit yourself,’ the Knave purrs, giving us a venomous little smile. ‘Your people were offered two choices: come to heel, or die. They chose the latter. I see stupidity runs in your veins. Now, if you’ll excuse—’

‘Are you looking for the King?’ I ask, taking a step closer to her and noticing that both the Unicorn and the Lion are watching me with predator’s eyes. Fuck, I don’t like a single person in the Knave’s little family. ‘Because after he kissed me, and we nearly fucked last night, he went to bed in my chambers.’ I smile, but the Knave’s expression doesn’t change. I do see a bit of the skin around her eyes tightening though.

I’ve pissed her off.

‘He might still be in bed.’ I smirk and then turn to Dee first, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him hard. His wings unfold from his back in glorious swathes of black and blue feathers, the chains falling to the stone floor with the loud clang of metal. I feel something else, too, something I never noticed before: an loosening, an unleashing, an unraveling of power that explodes from Dee’s body along with his wings.

His magic.

Without giving the Knave and her men a chance to walk away, I turn to Tee and I kiss him hard and fast in front of them, freeing his wings and his power to the scoffing dismay of the witch.

‘I’m shocked the King lets you get away with such behavior,’ Ines clucks as I lean back and look into Tee’s eyes, the lust and want and need playing out there making my toes curl inside my boots. ‘I doubt the Court of Hearts will allow you such trivialities.’

She pushes between me and Tee, her lackeys … I mean husbands trailing along behind her.

‘Fucking’—I start, looking for an insult that isn’t inherently misogynistic—’butt waffle nipple licking asswad.’

Tee raises an eyebrow at me, and then folds his wings around my body, holding me close.

‘That was a creative insult,’ he says as he Dee pushes his way between Tee’s wings, and slides his arms around my waist from behind. Being sandwiched between the two boys is a serious fucking turn-on for me, and I feel myself struggling to swallow past a surge of emotion.

‘She deserves a creative ass-kicking,’ I whisper as the twins step back just enough to give me some space. And yet, the last thing I want to do is move out from between them.

‘She does indeed,’ Dee says.

‘Indeed,’ Tee repeats, but the way he’s looking at me, I’m pretty damn sure he isn’t thinking about the Knave anymore. Fuck her, right? I’m the Alice, so I should be able to (eventually) break the curse on the twins by myself.

‘Why is the Alice called … well, the Alice?’ I whisper, doing my best to change the subject. If I focus too much on the twins, and their glorious wings, their jewel-tone eyes, or their shockingly different but still amazing personalities, I’ll probably collapse into a puddle on the floor.

‘Because …’ Tee chokes a little and takes another step back from me, like he doesn’t know what might happen between us if he stands too close. ‘It stands for All Living Individuals Can Escape. You are their escape from Underland, from the madness, from the remnants of the Riving.’ He turns his head and looks away for a moment.

‘And you are the only one. You are not just Alice, or an Alice, you are the Alice.’ Dee puts his hands on my shoulders and kneads my flesh, sending warm tingles throughout my body.

It’s not just because his touch makes my heart thunder—it’s because I feel like he’s right. Edith could’ve been the Alice, maybe, but now I am the Alice. This is my job.

Leaning forward, I let my breasts press against Tee’s chest, and thread my arms around his neck.

‘Allison,’ he says, almost like he’s trying to warn me.

‘What’s in that room right there?’ I whisper, pointing to the door behind him. Dee doesn’t waste a single second in hurrying over to open it, letting us into a small library filled with the scent of paper and ink, that delicious old book smell that could turn me on even if I were soaking wet and on my period.

Add in the gorgeous twins with their beautiful wings?

I’m a goner.

The sound of whispering fills the room as Dee heels the door shut behind us.

‘Do the books talk?’ I ask, and I can’t help it: I whisper, too. With my arms still threaded around Tee’s neck, I lift my head up and gaze at the bookshelves soaring above us. They must be at least thirty feet tall, if not taller. The room we’re in is small, and pentagonal, but there must be tens of thousands of books in here, at least.

‘Don’t judge a book by its cover,’ Dee says, picking one up and flipping it open. ‘Judge by its pitch.’

‘A tale of knights so bold, so brave, they not only looked death in the face, they bent him over and fucked him in the ass with their swords.’

Dee snaps the book closed and smiles at me.

‘Holy fuck,’ I breathe, blinking stupidly at him over my shoulder before I turn back to Tee. ‘I’d read that. How come my Alice book doesn’t talk?’

‘It came from your world,’ Tee explains. Ah, that’s right. There’s no magic Topside. Nothing there but pain and suffering and rapists who walk out of court with smirks on their faces.

I’m struggling to remember why I wanted to ever go home in the first place. I mean, besides briefly to see my family. I have to see my family, but once I let them know I’m okay, I may never leave Underland again.

‘You’ve convinced me,’ I say, letting go of Tee just enough that I lean back into Dee when he slides up behind me again. Just in case I haven’t made it clear, I repeat myself. ‘I want to stay, Dee. I want to change the world.’

The sound he makes from behind me, it’s fucking priceless.

Releasing Tee, I turn around and put my hands on either side of Dee’s face, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss him. He beats me to it, dropping his face until our mouths are brushing together, until I can smell his clean air scent, feel his breath on my lips.

Our kiss starts slow and easy, almost languorous, but it quickly picks up speed.

My fingers tangle in Dee’s jacket, and I drag him over to the chaise lounge, pushing him down onto it, and straddling his lap. When I grind my hips against him, I can feel his erection through his slacks.

I’ve never been on birth control because, as a point, I don’t feel it’s all a woman’s responsibility to take it. There are much easier ways to deal with that, without having synthetic hormones coursing through my body: condoms, pull-out method, male birth control (about half the side effects, people), etc. But at least here, I don’t seem to need it, at least not with North, Tee, or Dee.

Thank fuck, right?

Dee tangles his fingers in my hair, and I do the same to him, kissing him with all the pent-up emotion that’s been coursing through me for the past few days. I’m surrounded by gorgeous men, and I’m resisting them at every turn when what I really want is to give in and let myself get swept up in the fantasy that’s become my reality.

‘Tee,” I whisper, reluctantly breaking from Dee’s lips for a moment, the only noise in the room the whisper of the books and the combined sounds of our heavy breathing. I look up at the elder of the two twins, and see a book slide off the shelf and flutter around like a butterfly, leaving gold sparkles in its wake.

Talk about a turn-on.

For a second there, I think Tee’s going to run, but then he takes a step forward. And another, and another.

Tee climbs onto the couch behind me, sliding his palms over my rib cage and making me groan. When his hands reach the front of my body, he slides them up, palming my breasts through the pale blue, ruffled button-up I picked out for today.

He squeezes them gently at first, and then firmly, like he’s decided for sure that he’s doing this.

I lean back into him as Dee takes me by the hips and encourages me to move, grinding our bodies together in a way that’s ridiculously pleasant, even with our clothes still on. Sliding my palms over Dee’s shoulders, I find his wings and give his glossy feathers a sharp tug as we kiss.

Tee continues to caress and squeeze my breasts, finding my nipples through the fabric and squeezing them until I stop making any sounds that are remotely human.

Why didn’t I wear a skirt today?! I think as Tee’s left hand comes down and starts to unbutton my pants. He makes an awkward sexual necessity into something sensual and exciting, sliding his hand inside and teasing the front of my heart-patterned panties.

‘Three lovers entwined together in a weird, weird world,’ one of the books whispers as it crashes to the floor and opens onto a lewd ink drawing of a threesome.

How appropriate.

Dee moves his hands to my shirt, tearing open the fabric and sending buttons flying. He goes for my breasts next, popping the full, round mounds over the top of my corset and sliding his thumbs over my aching nipples.

I do the same to him, tearing his shirt open and teasing his nipples, making him buck his hips up against me while Tee utilizes his wings to brush and tease my now bare shoulders. Dee sweeps his up and around his brother, trapping the three of us in a feather cocoon.

Our hands and mouths explore and tease, work our bodies into wild frenzies. I can feel Tee hard and wanting behind me, grinding his hips into my ass as he teases my clit with his fingers, making me squirm and groan.

A book flutters past me as I sit up and start to shimmy out of my pants. I just want them off now.

Tee and Dee help me out, removing one leg first, and then the other. It’s not the most acrobatic or sensual thing, and I certainly don’t belong in a porno, but my awkward fumble ends with my pants and my underwear on the floor, and me feeling a hell of a lot happier about my current situation.

I scoot back slightly and help Dee out of his black denim jeans, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric and taking him into my hand. My fingers curl around his shaft as he bucks up into my grip.

‘Allison,’ Tee says in my left ear, ‘how do you want us?’

I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard a sexier question in my whole life. North’s ‘Mate with me?’ comes pretty close, but that’s the only thing in the running.

I have to think for a moment because I’ve never been in a position quite like this before.

Two beautiful men, two glorious shafts.

Just … what do I do with them?

I’ve only tried anal sex once, and I hated it, but that was with Liam. Tee and Dee are different—and not just because they’re fallen angels. No, these are real men. They care about how I feel, what I want, how they can pleasure me and not just themselves.

‘I’d like to try …’ I start, licking my lower lip. Oh hell, Allison, if you can’t even say it, you don’t deserve to be having it. ‘Having both of you at once.’

There’s a sound that Tee makes that travels straight to my core and floods me with vibrant waves of lust. He can’t make that sound in my ear and not expect me to go crazy.

I lift myself up on my knees and gasp when Tee takes my hips, helping me guide his brother to my opening. I’m moaning and crying with pleasure before I’ve even taken all of him, putting my face in the crook of Dee’s neck and breathing in his scent. His wings sweep around us again, this cocoon of safety that I just can’t get over. It’s too much, too amazing to be held in their wings like this.

Behind me, Tee kisses his way down the side of my neck, pausing to nibble at my shoulder. I get the weirdest thought then, of how I’d like to get each of them tattooed on my arm, an entire sleeve of Underland’s most beautiful men.

Ink dreams aside, I settle down until Dee is fully sheathed inside of me, filling up all that empty space in my heart at the same time he fills my body. I feel happy and complete here with him and Tee; I trust them implicitly.

I know I shouldn’t because I’ve only known them for two short weeks, but that doesn’t matter. I’m riding the sex high in that moment, and I’m getting these waves of affection and feeling toward them that I’ve never experienced before.

‘Touch me,’ I whisper as my eyes water. I’m not actually crying, but it just feels so damn good that my eyes are tearing up. ‘All over.’ The boys comply as I stare into Dee’s half-lidded sapphire eyes and see his lips curve up in a cocky little smile.

‘Your wish is our command,’ he purrs out, his voice this mix of playful and confident that I find irresistible. He’s one of those people who’s so full of emotion, they need to be unpacked on a regular basis. I feel an empathetic pang as I lean down to kiss him again, and he caresses the back of my neck with his fingers.

‘Ditto,’ Tee whispers, sweeping hair off the side of my throat, so he can kiss me there again.

‘Ditto, ditto,’ Dee growls as his brother fumbles with something behind me. When I look back, I see that he has some sort of lube bottle in his pocket, and raise my eyebrow.

‘I—’ Tee stutters, flushing red and then flattening his mouth out into a severe line. The expression is much less intimidating than it should be, considering he’s got his cock in his hand. ‘This isn’t what you think.’

‘Sure it’s not,’ I say, but I don’t care where he got lubricant or why.

I turn back to Dee, kissing him until his brother is ready, teasing a lubed finger down my ass crack and then stroking my opening. He caresses and plays with me until I’m warmed up and writhing, biting Dee’s lower lip and wishing Tee would just put it in already.

When he does, there’s this tiny, brief moment of pain where I’m convinced this position isn’t going to work. But Tee is so gentle and so careful that he works me up again, going nice and slow as I slide up and down on Dee’s shaft.

‘More,’ I grind out, sweating all over the poor boys and wondering if I still look sexy with blonde and rainbow strands of hair stuck to my forehead and cheeks. Dee reaches up and carefully peels some of it away, cupping the side of my face in his hand.

He locks eyes with me as his brother introduces a second finger, teasing that wall of flesh between my ass and my cunt. It feels so fucking good. I can barely even breathe.

‘Allison-who-isn’t-Alice,’ Dee breathes out, running his thumb over my lip. ‘Beautiful girl to change the world.’

‘Intelligent woman to win the war,’ Tee singsongs back, pulling his fingers out and putting the head of his shaft up against me. I wiggle back into him, but both he and Dee hold me in place and force me to keep it slow.

‘Glorious angels to defend the queen,’ I say, and they both make these noises of acknowledgement. We’re a team now, we got this.

Tee presses up against me, and then eases his shaft into my ass as my back arches, and I struggle to keep myself together.

I’m breaking apart in the most beautiful way; I’m coming unhinged in glorious madness.

And all I want is more. More, more, more.

Once Tee is settled, there’s this moment of perfect peace where both boys are sheathed inside of me, their cocks pressed tightly together with the thin wall of my flesh between them, a glorious twin sandwich that reminds me of my favorite books: The Kit Davenport series by Tate James.

Kit gets a twin sandwich and now, so do I.

‘Fuck me?’ I ask, but the twins respond in unison in the most twin-ly way possible.

‘Fuck us?’ they repeat in unison.

My body begins to move, but the twins can’t seem to help themselves. They quickly take over, their fingers intertwined over my hips, their own hips thrusting in unison. Their shafts press tight against that sensitive bit of flesh I didn’t even really know I had. I mean, logically, I always knew it was there, but who knew that pressure on either side of my vaginal wall would feel as good as a clitoral orgasm?

Dee takes over my breasts, leaving Tee to guide our movements as a group, thrusting hard against me. I can feel the strength in his hands and arms as he holds me and fucks me at the same time. These boys might be young, but they are fucking strong—physically and metaphysically.

I can’t wait to see them kick some ass.

Dee’s wings spread up and back all of a sudden, jostling all three of us. He arches his back and groans, squeezing my breasts so hard I might get bruises, but I don’t think he means it. No, he just comes hard and fast, groaning and writhing with the pleasure as he spills himself inside of me.

My pussy is throbbing, my nipples hurt, and my brain feels like it might just explode if I don’t get some release. It’s like Tee can sense what I need—he always seems to—and his fingers find my clit, rubbing and teasing it with both my wetness and his brother’s, making me come just as violently beautiful as Dee.

My fingernails dig into Dee’s shoulders as I throw my head back, both twins sweeping their wings around me until I’m wrapped up in feathers and bliss, orgasming with a scream that echoes around the quiet, whispering library. I even drag Tee with me, making him grunt and pound harder until he finishes inside of my still throbbing body, the aftershocks squeezing my muscles around both twins’ shafts until they can’t take it anymore.

Tee rolls off and onto the floor while Dee very gently pushes me off of him.

For several moments, we just lie there and breathe.

There’s—for lack of a better word—fluid all over the place, running down my thighs when I stand up.

‘Do you think North will forgive us for being late?’ I ask, but at that moment, I’m too happy to care.

‘I think he’ll have no choice,’ Tee says, and even though he’s lying on his back on the floor, he looks haughty and sexy as fuck. ‘I am the primary, so he better get used to it.’

I grin, and press a kiss to Dee’s lips first, and then Tee’s.

Bring on the training, bring on the Knave, bring on the ball.

I’m Allison Liddell, and I have fucking got this.

‘My mate,’ North mutters as he opens a pistol of his own and loads it up with a small metal ball. It looks like a Kingmaker to me. I love that it’s smaller and less impressive than a Queenmaker. In the human world, anything labeled queen is usually smaller and less important than the king version: beds, chess pieces, etc.

Underland is weird as hell, but it’s refreshing, too.

‘Mine,’ he growls, tail thrashing as he grits his teeth and turns to me. The White Knight is there, too, and she gives him a very unimpressed look.

‘Your strange jabberwock possessiveness is entirely unappealing,’ she says with a sniff, lifting her chin and then glancing over at me. ‘And this is why I don’t keep husbands. Too much work.’

‘It’s simply in my nature to want the Alice to be mine,’ North says, flicking blonde hair off his forehead in a very dramatic and Duke-ly way. He takes his station very seriously, prancing around with his nose in the air and his gold eyes full of disdain. I sort of love him for it.

‘Well, get over it,’ Chesh purrs, lying on the rafter above us, one arm hanging down, his finger drawing glowing gold designs in the air that disappear like fireflies in the wind. ‘Everyone knows a cat owns everything he sees.’

‘I thought Underland men were supposed to be different than Topside men? You all belong to me,’ I say, aiming the Queenmaker at the targets in the far distance. We’re standing just outside the athletic facility, the back doors wide open, facing a stretch of beautiful green field as far as the eye can see.

There’s a floral border on either side of the grass, separating this part of the royal gardens from the rest of the grounds. I can hear the flowers bitching about me right now.

‘As likely to blow ‘er head off as the Carpenter’s,’ one says, her accent reminding me of every generic peasant character I’ve ever seen in a cheap budget fantasy movie. ‘Maybe she should aim for the Walrus’, eh? At least he’s got more to shoot at!’

‘Won’t last a minute against the Anti-Alice,’ a lily replies, flicking her leaves in my direction. ‘We’re liable to lose the Kingdom of Hearts to the clubs.’ I turn and point the Queenmaker in her direction. I would blow us all to kingdom come if I were to shoot at this close a range, but at least I see the stupid flower quiver, and the pixie spirit jumps to a blossom several feet away from me.

Another one of the stupid things tries to pull my room key from my pocket, and I slap it away, watching its translucent wings as it flitters over to a daisy and slips inside. This is my first time actually seeing the pixies, and I’m surprised to find that they really do look like fucking Tinkerbell or some shit, albeit with brightly hued skin in every color of the rainbow.

They are also naked as fuck, and I swear I’ve seen enough pixie pussy in the last five minutes to last me a lifetime.

‘The Queenmaker uses your magic,’ Tee explains as Chesh shifts into cat form and hops off the wooden beam under the awning and onto my head. About two hundred yards out, there are nine silver bowls gleaming in the sunlight. North and the twins claim they’ll help absorb the blasts from the Queenmaker, so I don’t destroy the entire castle while I’m still learning. ‘That’s what makes it so powerful; it’s more than just gunpowder and sulfur.’

‘How did I just randomly pick this off a shelf in the Rabbit-Hole?’ I ask, but nobody bothers to answer me with actual words.

Instead, Dee claps his heels together, salutes, and recites another verse from the prophecy that never ends. How many fucking stanzas is this thing?! My guess, based on personal experience here in Underland, is that it has eighteen, just like the original The Walrus and the Carpenter poem.

‘The Gryphon and the Mock Turtle

Watched on from perches far,

And then they contemplated hell

On kingdoms so bizarre:

The Queenmaker their only hope

Against a ragged scar.’

Dee finishes with a little bow, and a grin.

‘Prophecy, Allison-who-isn’t-Alice-but-whom-I-quite-adore.’ He winks at me as I flush and turn back to the targets, watching as the White Knight loads up a gun that matches her armor. It looks like a flintlock pistol as well, but it’s all white, like it’s been carved of marble or something.

Apparently, it’s called a Knightmaker. Very creative, huh? I do appreciate the theme, however.

‘So I was destined to hold this weapon in my hands?’ I ask, teasing my fingers along the gold designs on the side. I lift my eyes to look up at Dee, and he smiles softly.

‘You were destined,’ he says, but I don’t fully believe him. I think people can create their own destinies. Then again, maybe there’s magic at work here, as a guiding hand or something? I can’t help but think how I was compelled to follow the White Rabbit down the hole, or how I keep saying things that are straight out of the original book without even meaning to. It’s like there’s some grand storyteller in the sky, trying to guide my fate.

If there is, she better fuck off, because I have ideas of my own.

‘What’s your name?’ I ask the White Knight, because everyone here seems to have a nickname, even me. In fact, I have several: the Alice, Allison-who-isn’t-Alice, Sonny, Sunshine, Miss Alice, Miss Liddell, and so on and so forth.

‘My name?’ the White Knight repeats, blinking pretty lavender eyes at me. She tosses some blonde hair over her shoulder, and it shimmers in the sunshine like it’s spun gold. Seriously, she must be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. ‘Chevalier.’ She smiles at me like she thinks I have no idea what that means in French. It means knight, by the way. I took like two years of classes at my high school.

‘Is your last name Blanc?’ I question with a raised brow, and the White Knight grins. So the White Knight’s name … is literally Chevalier Blanc, aka White Knight in French. Very creative, almost as creative as calling the Cheshire Cat, Chesh.

‘The King wants to make sure you’re actually learning something down here,’ she states in crisp, clear tones, no judgement, just fact. ‘And he knows I’m the best woman for the job.’

‘You’re an inventor?’ I ask as North steps up close behind me, and makes my entire body tingle as he adjusts my grip on the gun, putting my fingers in the same place that Dee did. Having a second teacher repeat the same lessons I learned before is helpful in cementing them into my brain.

‘That’s right,’ the White Knight says, lifting up her gun with one hand and putting on a very dramatic sideways pose with her left arm outstretched. She fires off a shot that lobs up toward the sky and then falls perfectly down into the center of one of the metal bowls, slamming into the bull’s-eye with a horrific wave of fire and heat. ‘Bam,’ she growls, lifting her pistol to her lips and blowing on it. ‘I’m a knight by day, inventor by night. Ironic, isn’t it? It feels as if I should be a knight by night, and inventor by day perhaps?’ She tilts her head to one side in that weird Underland way.

More nonsensical logic.

Fantastic.

‘How are you enjoying your breastplate of courage?’ she asks, making me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. You know when you read a book, and the female main character only has meaningful relationships with men, and you’re left wondering why the fuck all her interactions with women are hateful and gross?

Yeah, I despise that shit.

I just want to … go get my nails done with the White Knight or something.

I like her.

‘Breastplate of Courage?’ I ask, lifting a brow as North steps to the right of me, takes aim and fires his own shot off. He, too, hits the silver target, but not the bull’s-eye. The White Knight grins and he growls at her, thrashing his tail around wildly.

‘I didn’t just invent those easy-on/easy-off buckles,’ Chevalier declares proudly, tapping at her shoulders. ‘I imbued the armor with courage. If you put it on, you’ll feel like a wolf amongst sheep.’

‘Huh,’ I say, taking aim with the Queenmaker and doing my best to hold her steady in both hands. ‘Do you think I can wear it to the ball over my dress? Because dragons that make my ears bleed and birds that shoot spider silk are okay, but dancing in front of other people sounds like pure hell.’

‘I think wearing it would be a great idea,’ Tee says, the warm sound of his voice making me tremble just enough that when I fire, the metal projectile goes wide, a miniature cannonball flinging through the air toward the row of flowers.

Pixies scream and flee their garden as North waves his hand, and with a bit of magic, sends the projectile into one of the targets where it explodes with enough force to singe the hairs on my arm.

Holy fucking hearts.

Dee moves over to a small table near the wall where a gramophone sits, spins the handle on the side, and then carefully removes a record from a sleeve sitting on a shelf full of others. He places the needle carefully onto it, and then steps back as it begins to crackle.

Some vintage, twenties sounding song starts to garble out.

One thing I would miss living here: fucking Spotify and iTunes.

I still have my cellphone … somewhere. I should dig it out and see if I can’t get it to play some modern day music for these boys.

‘Sorry, I was distracted,’ I say as Chesh weaves between my legs, rubbing on my ankles as the White Knight moves over to help me reload the Queenmaker.

‘The sound of your lover’s voice,’ she begins, and I blush. I’m still a tad sore downstairs, and every movement I make reminds me of my threesome with the twins. I won’t soon forget. ‘Is nothing compared to the chaos that will ensue during battle.’

The Cheshire cat shifts back into his human form beside me, as gloriously half-dressed as always, and stares at me from big, gray eyes.

‘If you need to keep your calm during battle, simply repeat this mantra inside your head. It’ll keep you focused,’ he purrs as Chevalier once again fixes my grip. I will get this, eventually. I’m not doing too shabby considering I’ve never shot a vintage, magical flintlock pistol before last week, right? ‘Ahem.’ The Cheshire cat clears his throat, licks his paw, and runs it over his dark hair and his striped ears, making the silver hoops in them jingle merrily. ‘As it goes:

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.’

Chesh pauses for a moment and smiles at me with that feral cat grin of his.

‘Beware the Jabberwock, my girl!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun,

The frumious Bandersnatch!’

I raise my eyebrows as North growls from behind me, and I hear an icy voice at my back.

‘Frumious?’ Rab drawls, smoking a cigarette and swinging a pocket watch at his side. He’s dressed in red and white today, no black. It makes his red eyes and dark hair pop even more. ‘How daaare you?’

Rab pauses next to me, and nods with his chin in the direction of the targets.

‘You’re already late for your dancing lessons with the Caterpillar,’ he says, that cold voice doing more to warm up my insides than it rightfully should. ‘So let’s see what you can do with that thing and get going.’

‘I’ve barely gotten time to practice,’ I grumble, but I suppose that’s my own fault. Mine and the twins’, that is.

I glance over at Rab, his eyes ringed in dark liner, his smile a dangerous sort of pretty that kills happy hearts and makes them wish they had a million lives so they could die over and over again.

So not a guy I should be going after.

And yet …

Rab is so freaking distracting that I have to tear my eyes away from him and actually start to mumble the cat’s stupid, catchy little Jabberwocky poem.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves,’ I grumble.

I smirk, take aim, and fire off a second shot.

This time, I hit the center target … and the bull’s-eye.

When I leave the athletic facility and head for the ballroom, I realize that I’m actually looking forward to my lessons with Lar.

‘I get an entourage today?’ I ask, because Chesh, Rab, North, and the twins are all with me right now.

‘You get an entourage the rest of the week,’ Rab says, glancing over at the Duke like they know something nobody else does. We pass under glass ceilings and glorious arches, past huge doorways that lead to Hearts only knows where. Card servants are everywhere, scurrying around like ants. I can barely stand to look at them, and based on the twins’ reactions, I think they feel the same. ‘The castle is restless. Everyone wants to meet you. And, to be quite frank, several of them want to murder you. Personally, I’ll settle for fucking you. What do you say?’

‘I say … eat a dick?’ I reply with saccharine sweetness as I flip him off.

When we head into the ballroom, the Caterpillar is already waiting for us, sitting on a big blue velvet pillow in the center of the room. He has his white jacket with the gold epaulettes resting on his shoulders, but there’s no shirt underneath, showing off his glorious chest and those two key piercings through his nipples.

Don’t think about the sex prophecy he showed you, I warn myself. Don’t think about it, Allison. Don’t, don’t, don’t.

Aaaaanndddd, now I’m thinking about it.

In detail.

Glorious, glorious detail.

‘Welcome,’ Lar says, his eyes half-lidded, the color of a summer sky. He gestures for us to take seats on the colored pillows surrounding his, passing the hookah he’s smoking over to me.

‘Are we going to dance in the air again?’ I ask, and I get this lazy, confident smile in return.

‘We’re going to dance the quintrille,’ he says, which is not really an answer to my question. ‘Although … we’re a bit short on dancers.’

I notice there are more pillows on the ground than people.

As in, say, ten total pillows including the one I’m sitting on.

Hmm.

The ballroom doors swing open, and I glance over my shoulder to find the Mad Hatter and the March Hare sauntering into the room with Dor on their heels.

‘Oh heeeeellllll no,’ I say, letting go of the hookah and standing up. The air is perfumed with the sweet scent of blueberries and tobacco, but as much as I want to experience that glorious feeling of floating and dancing, I will not put up with the Dormouse.

I mean, Raiden Walker and March are bad enough, but the Dormouse dick basically clobbered a chunk of North’s skull out—and he’d happily do it again.

‘I will not dance with him,’ I say as the big, ugly man scowls at me and scratches as his tiny, stupid mouse ears. They’re so little and they blend in with his brown hair, I can’t even remember if I’ve seen them before.

‘Fortunately for you,’ the Mad Hatter says, whipping off his hat. A swarm of bats—yes, you heard me, a swarm of bats—explodes out from underneath, swirling in the air around him and then taking off for the domed glass ceiling, chittering as they go. ‘You won’t be dancing with Dor tonight.’

Raiden pulls his cane out, and taps it against the floor before replacing his hat and smiling at me with sharp, white vampire fangs. I’m too freaking dumbfounded to speak. Bats. Fucking bats. Now I really have seen it all.

‘Then who’s taking the place of this last pillow?’ I ask indignantly, pointing down at the red velvet cushion on the floor.

‘Me.’ The serene calm in that voice draws my attention over to Brennin Red, standing in the doorway to the ballroom with the White Knight on one side, and the Knave on the other. Grrreeaaat, exactly the woman I wanted to see. She has her two weird husbands behind her, too, and I’m pretty sure all three of them are glaring at me.

Red walks his supreme asshole-ish-ness over to me, his dark eyes hard, his crown drooping lazily over his forehead. His white gloves squeak as he reaches up and adjusts the gold hook and eye clasp that holds his voluminous white and red robes in place.

‘You’ll be expected to dance with me at the ball, so we may as well see what clumsiness we can iron out today.’

‘I’d rather dance with Dor,’ I say, but I don’t mean it. My palms are sweating, and I can’t take my eyes off the King’s. He makes my throat feel tight and sticky and sore, my heart thunder, my fingers twitch. I want him dead, but I also want to leap into bed with him. I’ve never been so confused about my own feelings before.

‘Is that so?’ Brennin asks coolly, eyeing me up and down like a steak served too well-done. He’d rather just send me back and get a new slab of fresh meat for his plate. ‘Well, too bad. That brainless thug isn’t the ruler of an entire kingdom—I am. And as my future queen, the court will want to see you dance with me.’

‘I am not your future queen,’ I snap back, hating myself for having made out with this guy. Shit, more than made out: I practically fucked him. I turn away and run my fingers through my hair, making eye contact with March.

He sucks on a very … shall we say phallic-shaped lollipop, and gives me this dirty half-smile that promises awful, awful things.

‘Lackey piece of shit,’ I grumble as I sit back down on the velvet pillow and take the hookah from Lar, letting his pale fingers tangle with mine, just so I can feel that little thrill between us. ‘Whatever. I don’t have time to argue. Let’s just get this over with, shall we? After the ball, we’ll figure out how to deal with each other.’

I can feel the King staring at me from behind. His eyes are like lasers, making me squirm with their heat. Fucker.

Deep down, there’s some part of me that’s thrilled at the idea of being the Queen of Hearts. What little girl wouldn’t jump at the thought of not only visiting their favorite childhood storybook world, but ruling it.

‘Maybe we can get married, and just not talk?’ I glance over my shoulder and find Brennin Red still staring at me. The Knave’s mouth is turned down at both corners, and I just know I’m going to trip and fall on my ass because she’s here staring at me. Thus, the story of my life. ‘Then I can be the Queen of Hearts, your little prophecy will be fulfilled, and then we can just never speak again?’

‘Mm,’ Lar murmurs, and when I glance over at him, I catch him watching me with that half-lidded stare. I get the feeling there’s something he’s not telling me. Another prophecy? I wouldn’t be surprised.

‘Your lack of interest in our glorious King of Hearts is disturbing to me,’ the Knave purrs, her voice like velvet and sandpaper. There’s a painful softness to it that makes my teeth hurt. ‘And what’s disturbing to me is disturbing to the court.’

‘That’s quite enough of that,’ the King says, and when I glance over my shoulder again, I get caught in that ebon stare, and find it impossible to take another breath. ‘You were invited to observe, not to talk.’

The look on the Knave’s face is priceless. The Lion—I can’t remember if he’s Rook or Knight—takes a step forward, but Ines reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. The three of them move over to a seating area filled with tufted chairs in red and white, sitting their black-clad asses down on the cushions. They look like they’re on their way to a freaking funeral.

I turn back to Lar and accept the hookah again, pulling in a long, smoky breath of tobacco and flowers, teased through with the fruity freshness of blueberries. Already, I can feel that lightness in my skull, as if I’m starting to float.

‘Let’s get to this, shall we?’ March says, his accent thick and sexy as hell. He looks like a model, lounging there in an unbuttoned white shirt, the sleeves pushed up, a small top hat on his own head. He’s still eating—do I ever see him not eating?—sucking the lollipop between his lips in a very suggestive sort of way. ‘The Alice and I have an appointment in the dungeon.’

‘And you’re already late,’ Rab says, checking one of his tattoos. ‘I don’t see how we’re going to be ready for the ball. If everything went smoothly—and I mean everything—we’ll be lucky to get out of there with a disdainful approval from the court. But I can hardly imagine getting through the evening without bloodshed and substantial crimson splatter.’

‘Why is it you sound so fucking excited about that?’ I ask, passing the hookah around the circle. Brennin Red finally sits down on the side opposite the Hatter, two titans in one room. I have this feeling they’re being civil for now. But their relationship is like a powder keg ready to explode. I’m desperate to know what they were up to in the study, with that blood on the King’s neck and Raiden’s mouth. Clearly, the vampire was drinking from the King, but why? And why did Red let him?

‘Oh, I love blood and bones,’ Rab says, rolling his head in a circle and blinking those disturbingly beautiful eyes at me. ‘Snacking on assholes feeds my soul.’

‘You’ll get a chance to eat at the ball, I’m most certain,’ the King says, his voice that disturbing eerie calm I was so awed by when we first met. I’ve seen his temper though, and it’s mighty. I’ve also seen his self-control crumble away, when he pinned me to the wall and kissed the fuck out of me.

The way he’s staring at the floor though, I get that there’s something else going on inside these castle walls. Internal politics. Gross. I’ve never liked politics. As far as I’m concerned, republicans and democrats … douchebags and turd sandwiches.

‘Well, I hope so,’ March says, drawing Rab’s attention over to him. ‘Because it’s been a while since I’ve popped someone’s head from their shoulders. It comes right off, just like a bloody grape.’

‘Don’t you dare steal my kills, or I shan’t ever fucking forgive you,’ Rab says, as Tee rolls his eyes, meeting mine from across the circle.

‘Can we get on with this?’ Chesh purrs, sitting with one knee propped up, his elbow resting atop it. ‘I’ve got rodents to kill, a hairball to choke up, and an Alice to woo.’

‘Please don’t put hairball and woo into the same sentence,’ I say as the hookah finally makes its way back to the Caterpillar.

‘Purrrr-lease make me part of your harem, Alice?’ Chesh yowls, flopping onto his side and pawing at the air with tattooed hands.

‘Insufferable beast,’ the King grinds out, as North slaps his tail against the floor and then grabs Chesh by the collar, making him sit upright like the rest of us.

What a ragtag group of men, I think as I glance from Raiden Walker to Tweedledee. What am I going to do with them all?

‘So,’ Lar says, his quiet, commanding voice drawing a close to all of the nonsense. ‘The quintrille. Alice, do you know why it’s called that?’

‘Uh, no clue,’ I say as he gives me this calm, easy sort of smile. He draws designs in the air with his fingers, and the blue-gray smoke from the hookah forms into a little, smiling crocodile.

‘Because it requires five couples,’ he explains. ‘As opposed to the quadrille which requires four.’

‘Quint and quad, got it,’ I say, giving him a salute without even thinking about it. My cheeks flush and Dee grins at me from across the circle, his wings framing his beautiful face. I’ve been around the guy for a handful of weeks and already, I’m picking up his habits. ‘Five couples, ten people, the prophecy?’ I continue, cocking a brow.

Everything in this damn world revolves around the prophecy.

‘Ten people,’ Lar says, standing up and handing off the hookah to a card servant. There are a few of them scattered around the room, staring at us with dead, ink-drawn eyes. A few others approach as the men stand up, removing the pillows as Lar slowly unfolds his right arm, holding his hand out to me. ‘Five couples. Come, Sunshine, and we will dance.’

I take his hand as the boys pair up around me.

Tee and Dee; Chesh and North; March and Raiden; the King and Rab.

Lar leads us into the center of the ballroom, positioning us over a gold medallion inscribed with small designs. They make a story around the circle, with a much larger design in the center. I don’t have time to examine it at the moment, but it looks interesting.

The Caterpillar leans in, putting his mouth against my ear, overwhelming me with his scent.

‘Pretend I’m the King,’ he says, but I’d rather not. I get that I’ll be dancing with Brennin Red at the ball, but I’d much rather dance with Lar right now. ‘You’ll start in the center of the room, with everyone else around you.’

He places my hand on his shoulder, and curls his fingers around my other. We stand tall and straight and proud, staring into one another’s eyes.

‘The other couples will approach the circle, turn to one another, bow.’ Lar nods his chin, and one of the card servants starts up the gramophone. ‘And then they’ll turn to their right, and bow again.’

The music gurgles out of the old machine, a cheery marching band sort of sound with trumpets and a piano.

Lar and I wait, poised like statues as the King and Rab waltz forward to meet March and Raiden, weaving around us and clasping hands as they pass. When they get to the opposite side of the circle, the King puts his hand on Rab’s lower back and they spin in a circle, coming to face us again. They do the same moves one more time before clasping arms and parading around us.

I’m happy standing right here, not doing any of the actual dancing.

‘How long does this part take?’ I whisper as the same two pairs move forward and switch partners; the Hatter ends up with the King, while March and Rab wind up together.

Oh.

The plot thickens.

‘You’ll see,’ Lar says, tilting his head to the side, his beautiful hair feathering across his face, his earrings dancing in that strange supernatural wind that seems to follow him around. He, too, has an aristocratic air, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s some sort of fae prince. It would only stand to reason, considering Tee and Dee. But who knows? In Underland, anything is possible.

The other two couples switch partners as well, and then repeat the first set of movements, doing what the King and Co. did in reverse.

‘Now, we dance,’ the Caterpillar says, turning us in a circle, sliding his hand to my lower back, and then galloping us around the circle of men. I can feel all their eyes on me, watching me, studying me. I’ve never had so many guys interested in me before; it’s fucking weird.

Some part of me can’t be happy about it though, because it feels like most of them are after the Alice and most definitely not Allison.

Except … not the twins, or North, maybe not even the cat.

Lar, he’s hard to read. I study his face as we weave in and out of the four other couples, our feet slowly rising off the ground as we go. My heart stutters a bit, half from fear, half from excitement as the ballroom slowly falls away.

My dance partner opens his wings, these two glorious glittering swathes of color and magic. They glow blue, the edges ruffling in the breeze. It jangles the bracelets on his arms, his earrings, teases his nipple piercings. The coat, despite not actually being on his arms, sits pretty on his shoulders, the gold fringe and epaulettes catching the wind.

God, I hate heights, but holy shit I love this, I think as we dance, Lar adjusting our arms until they’re hooked at the elbow, and spinning us in a circle. What girl doesn’t want to fly, after all.

The other men are floating, too, but not as high as we are, not until Lar spins me one more time and releases me. He pauses for a brief moment, wings flapping softly, as he adjusts my arms so that one is behind my back, the other held to the side, bent at the elbow, with my palm up.

He bows and sinks down a few feet, switching places with the Hatter.

Fantastic.

‘Hello, Alice,’ he says, grabbing my outstretched hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. I shiver, but not in an unpleasant way, letting him parade me around in a circle.

The sky outside is darkening, but I do not miss that giant ass bat landing on an arch and peering in at us with eyes as dark as the King’s.

‘Your pet is staring at us,’ I say as Raiden raises an eyebrow and marches us around in the air. A small bat peeks out from under his hat and takes off, perching itself upside down from a decorative rose carved into the golden arches of the ballroom.

‘Is that so?’ he asks, not even bothering to look in the creature’s direction. ‘Does she bother you?’

‘No,’ I say, feeling far less comfortable all the way up here with Raiden than I did with Lar. Not only does the Caterpillar have wings, but he’s just generally a much nicer guy. ‘I don’t like heights, that’s it. I don’t have a problem with bats.’

I stumble over my own foot, an odd sensation floating that high up in the air, but the Mad Hatter catches me and keeps me upright, his tattooed fingers curled around my arms. His marmalade colored eyes are so intense, all I want to do is look away. And yet, I can’t bring myself to do it.

‘How did you get here anyway?’ I ask, licking my lower lip and trying my best to keep my gaze neutral and focused. ‘To Underland, I mean. You’re from Topside, aren’t you?’

‘Not everyone that falls down the Rabbit-Hole is an Alice,’ he breathes, spinning me around and then stepping back. Before I get a chance to probe him further, the King is taking his place, and I groan.

‘Try not to act so thrilled,’ Brennin grinds out, his stupid crown reflecting back the chandeliers’ lights as they flicker and dance along with us.

‘Don’t worry: that shouldn’t be hard,’ I quip as the music changes to this slow, strange drawling song with a heavy bass and a chorus of snapping fingers, like some jazz lounge special performance.

‘What’s all this talk of marriage?’ he says, his eyes like shards of onyx. ‘I thought you wanted to go home?’

‘You clearly don’t listen to a damn thing I say: I want to be able to go home and come back at will. That’s what I want. Free will. Ever heard of it?’

Brennin tightens his lips at my words, but he doesn’t stop dancing. I realize that North and Tee were right: he’s as good as Lar. Raiden was a decent dancer, but I had to think about the steps with him. With the King, it comes naturally.

We stop talking then, and with the arrival of silence comes that awful, aching tension.

My body wants the goddamn King, and I don’t know how to make it stop.

‘Your Majesty.’ A female voice rings out, and I glance down to find the Knave with her head tilted in our direction, the White Knight at her side. ‘We have a problem.’

With a growl, Brennin Red scoops me up in his arms. I let out a small squeak, but I’m all the way up in the fucking air, so I thread my fingers together against the back of his neck as we drift toward the floor. Without meaning to, I play with the fine red hairs at the base of his scalp, and feel my heart skip a few beats.

‘What is it?’ he asks, setting me down and stepping away in a swirl of robes.

The White Knight cups her hand around the King’s ear, and I see him stiffen.

He glances back at me, slides his eyes down my body and makes me feel like I’ve just been dipped in warm honey. When they flick back to my face, I know I’m in serious trouble.

This thing between Brennin Red and me, it’s going to come to a head at some point.

‘Continue with the lessons,’ Red says, snapping his fingers. The White Knight steps forward and offers me a cheeky smile and a little bow, stepping in to take the King’s place. I wish I wasn’t sorry to see him go.

But I am.

Fuck.

He moves across the marble floors with the Knave and her minions falling into step behind him.

‘Interesting,’ Raiden purrs, exchanging a look with March. ‘Very interesting.’

‘Keep your filthy nose out of the King’s business,’ North snarls, getting between the two mercenaries and his ruler’s retreating back.

‘The King’s business?’ Raiden asks, tapping the brim of his hat in thought. ‘But the King’s business is now my business. We’re soon-to-be husbands-at-arms.’

‘Over my dead body,’ I grumble, but I’m not about to get into it with them right now. I cross my arms over my chest as the Duke stares down the Hatter. Near the ballroom entrance, the Dormouse stirs, cracking his knuckles and stretching his neck from side to side in a particularly menacing way.

If he goes for North, I swear, I’ll unleash some of my special Alice magic on his ass.

‘Boys,’ I say, stepping between them before things can heat up. The last thing I need is a jabberwocky/vampire battle in the ballroom. ‘When am I going to start training to use my magic?’

‘Once we’ve dealt with the Anti-Alice,’ North says, but my change of subject isn’t working. He’s not even looking at me.

‘After the Torrid Tea Party,’ the Mad Hatter says, finally turning to look at me. ‘I’ll show you how to use your magic.’

‘The Torrid Tea Party?’ I ask, blinking stupidly as the other men gather around us. ‘Is this one of the ‘Hatter’s famous parties’?’ I make little quotes with my fingers.

I get a saucy vampire smile in response.

‘Oh, most certainly.’

‘And when is this supposed party taking place?’ I ask as March lifts up his top hat and extracts a new lollipop, this one in the shape of a knife.

‘The night before the ball,’ Raiden says, smirking and looking stupidly delicious as he goes about it. Bad guys are not supposed to be attractive. They’re supposed to wear dark robes, smell like old cheese, and cackle from the shadows. ‘I have to know who I can trust.’

‘And how would a tea party help with that?’ I ask as Dor moves up to stand beside his boss in a very threatening sort of way. North reacts, black scaly wings exploding from his back as he takes a step forward.

I leap between the two of them and put my hands on the sides of his face, kissing him hard and fierce, a tangle of tongues that he accepts with carnal desperation. His hands are all over me, his wings wrapped around us, his tail squeezing my ankle.

‘If I weren’t a civilized monster …’ he snarls against my mouth, and I find myself melting against him. ‘I’d throw you to the floor and fuck you right here in front of the rest of these morons.’

‘Oh god, don’t say that,’ I breathe, my body throbbing in response to his words. ‘I might just take you up on that.’

‘When I get agitated, I need to mate,’ he growls, nuzzling at my hair. I wrap my arms around him and sigh, knowing that everyone else is staring at us. Frankly, I just don’t give two fucks. ‘It calms me down.’

‘Oh, I see how it is,’ I whisper, but North tucks his wings back behind him and looks me over.

‘I can wait though,’ he says with this devilish expression on his face, his big black horns curving wickedly up from his gold hair. ‘Tonight, we’ll mate in the Suit of Hearts.’

‘Thank you for announcing that to the whole world,’ I say, feeling a blush color my cheeks as the White Knight chuckles at me, and the Dormouse scowls. I hope he gets hit by a brick and dies. Freak accidents happen, you know.

‘Shall we continue?’ Lar says, appearing beside us and holding out a hand.

‘We shall,’ March replies from behind me. ‘Enjoy your dancing, because in about, oh, an hour or so … I’m going to fucking poison you.’

The dungeon is as clichéd as my future ball.

It’s down a spiral stone staircase, and it’s cold, damp, and scary as shit.

‘This is beyond creepy,’ I say as the twins escort me past flickering torches and down into the bowels of Underland. The March Hare is walking just ahead of us, but I can see his brown ears swiveling to listen to our conversation.

‘The former King of Hearts used to keep prisoners down here,’ Tee says, and there’s something incredibly melancholic about the way he phrases that. I wonder if any angels were locked up here previously? ‘The current king just curses them into card servants or sends them to the guillotine.’

Tee pushes purple-streaked black hair off his forehead and casts his jewel-toned eyes in my direction. I can’t tell if he’s relieved or upset by what he’s just said.

‘They say the stones have absorbed the screams of the wicked over the years,’ Dee whispers, keeping his wings tucked in close and refusing to touch the stone walls if he can help himself.

‘Nonsense,’ Tee scoffs, and Dee rolls his eyes.

‘Contrariwise, it makes perfect sense. Locations absorb trauma, that’s common knowledge.’

‘It’s common nonsense,’ his brother quips back, and I smile. I love their interactions. It makes me miss Fred a little, but in a good way, floods me with happy memories. Oh, Fred. Being here in Underland, that trauma seems so far away, but I know I’m not over it, not even close. Does a person ever really get over losing a loved one? Or does the pain just crouch deep inside the soul, waiting for the worst possible moment to pop out and shout peekaboo!

‘I’ve set up a little la-bohr-uh-tory for myself down here,’ March drawls, stretching out the word laboratory while he sucks on his knife-shaped lollipop. He pushes open a door at the bottom of the stairs and welcomes us in with a flourish.

‘What did you mean about poisoning me?’ I ask as I step inside and notice the various jars filled with colored fluids, the beakers, the tiny pots with handwritten labels.

‘I’m going to start you on a series of poison-pricks, so we can build your immunity to the most common ones.’ March moves over to a table covered in knives and picks through them, setting one aside. It has a purple edge that glows faintly, warming up the dark space with each pulse of light.

Creepy.

‘I don’t like this at all,’ Tee growls as Dee exhales and rolls up his sleeves.

‘Which is why I’m going to test the poison first,’ Dee says as his brother raises his brows. ‘Dear brother, you are the heir to our people’s throne. And she”—he casts me a sly look—“she is the Alice. Please, allow me.’ Dee sits down on one of the stools as March shrugs out of his velvet trench coat, turning to face us. I can’t help but stare at the bare expanse of mocha colored skin showing between the two unbuttoned sides of his white shirt.

He, too, rolls up his sleeves, revealing two, thick muscular arms.

Thief, poison expert, Hatter’s lackey, shapeshifter.

That’s all I know about the March Hare—stupid facts. I have no idea who he actually is as a person, and I’m not sure I care to. He and the Hatter are, for lack of a better word, dickheads.

‘Eventually we’ll move onto mixing poisons, but this’ll do for now.’

‘What are your other forms?’ I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and glancing around at the old prison cells on either side of us. They still have their rusted gates, separating off these tiny cubicles that I can’t imagine could even fit a twin bed inside. The people that were kept here, they suffered—greatly. ‘If you’re going to poke and prod and stab me, I have a right to know a little more about you.’

‘Oh, Alice-Doll,’ March says, his chocolate-colored hair cut short into a neat, polished style, like a model. The longer hair on the top of his scalp is slicked back and hidden partially beneath his purple top hat. I notice he never wears a larger hat than his boss. ‘I imagine when we bed each other, it’ll be a lot less violent than all that. Nobody wants to be poked or prodded or stabbed with a cock. It’s all about the thrust.’

‘I meant the needles ,’ I snarl, narrowing my eyes as I point at the collection of shiny, sharp objects on the table beside me. Apparently, this is going to be like those allergy tests at the doctor, the ones where they poke your skin with tiny needles tipped in allergens. Hopefully, I don’t die down here. That’d suck. ‘You know what I meant. I know you can shift into a bandersnatch. What else?’

‘You’re a pushy little Alice, aren’t you?’ he murmurs, his brown eyes twinkling.

‘Can we just get this over with, so we can move on?’ Tee snaps. ‘If the King hadn’t personally ordered us down here, we wouldn’t be here. And if anything—and I mean anything—happens to Allison, I’ll kill you myself.’

‘Oh?’ March asks, and then he throws back his head with a chortling laugh. His ears, on either side of his top hat, twitch. ‘Glorious. I’d love to see which of us would win in a fight. I might bet against myself, to be quite honest with you.’ March stands up and moves next to me, a good foot fucking taller. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. ‘Would you believe me if I told you I could shape-change into a slithy tove?’

‘What the fuck is a slithy tove?” I snort, vaguely recognizing the words from the original Jabberwocky poem, the one that Chesh recited for me earlier to keep my head calm. I’ve been sing-songing it in the back of my mind all day now. I’m not sure how calming it is, but it’s certainly catchy.

‘A tove is a … sort of like a Pegasus,’ Tee explains as my eyes open wide in disbelief.

‘Okay, sure …’ I start, but March is already laughing at me, and I can’t decide if he’s telling the truth or not. ‘So can you really turn into the Mad Hatter?’

Well, now, that stops him dead.

He pauses with his hands on a bottle marked … well, Poison before turning to look at me. He tries to hide his surprise with a smarmy smirk, but I can see it. I’ve well and truly shocked him.

‘Where would you get a ridiculous idea like that?’ he says, but his voice is too casual while his shoulders are too tense.

The Caterpillar was right.

I smirk back, because even if I have no idea if he’s telling the truth above the tove, I know at least this much is true.

‘None of your damn business,” I ooze, enjoying my temporary feeling of superiority and smugness. It’s not often one gets the jump on a mercenary bastard asshole. “How many poisons are we testing today?’ I ask as I take a seat on the stool next to Dee; he immediately starts up a game of footsie with me. Cheeky bastard. It lightens the mood in that dreary dungeon with its long hallway, its straw-filled cells, and the light but persistent reek of sweat and urine.

‘Just a handful,’ March says, dipping a tiny needle into the bottle, and then turning to face me. ‘Don’t want to overwhelm your fragile system, Doll. Now, arm.’ He gestures with his fingers, and I sigh, removing my red and black military coat and pushing up the sleeve of my button-up.

The Vorpal Blade is strapped to my thigh, the Queenmaker is on my hip, and I’m wearing the corset filled with knives. I have to say, I feel like kind of a badass.

‘Me first,’ Dee says, gesturing with his own arm.

March obliges him, cleaning Dee’s skin with alcohol, and then poking just the tiniest prick into the pale flesh of Dee’s underarm. He tosses the needle and readies a new one while the twins and I wait in tense silence. I think we’re all half-convinced that Dee’s going to keel over at any given moment.

Fortunately, several pass and nothing happens.

‘Oh give me some credit where credit is due,’ March says as Tee very carefully watches him poison a new needle. ‘Killing the Alice in the King’s castle with two angels to face off against, knowing my boss is eventually going to hunt me down and kill me, while I’ve already pissed off the King of Clubs with no way to go running back. Must think I’m bloody daft, eh?’

He moves over to me, running his fingers up my arm. I swallow hard, but I refuse to let him see that he’s having any effect on me. March carefully pushes my sleeve up a little further, running his thumb over the pulse in my elbow. He swabs my arm in slow, lazy circles with a cotton swab, the sharp sting of alcohol teasing my nostrils. And when I say alcohol, I don’t mean rubbing alcohol—I mean, like, fucking whiskey.

‘You look like Rob Evans,’ I blurt, and March raises an eyebrow just before he pricks me. There’s something weirdly intimate about that moment that I don’t like, and I jerk my arm out of his grip, cradling it against my chest.

‘Who?’ he quips, sounding a bit like an owl.

‘A model from Topside,’ I murmur, rubbing at the sore spot. I feel a little tingle there, and start to panic, but it fades as quickly as it came. I’ve had worse wasp bites or bee stings.

‘A model, huh?’ he asks, as I refuse to look at how tight his pants are over his firm ass. Underland is turning me into a freaking nymphomaniac. ‘You think I’m that pretty, do you?’ He grabs up a banana from a bowl of fruit, peels it, and stuffs half in his mouth while he readies the next needle.

‘Hardly,’ I say, but I’m probably the only person in that room who believes what I’m saying. Even then, it’s questionable.

‘We’re going to work our way through these poisons,’ March continues, flattening his rabbit ears against his skull as he struggles with a corked bottle. ‘And then I’m going to give you a test kit to keep with you. At any time you suspect something is poisoned—food, clothing, even a fucking handrail—you take the swab out and test it. If the liquid turns cloudy, it’s poison.’ He turns back around and moves to prick Dee with a second needle.

‘Cloudy, huh,’ I murmur, thinking how ingenious that would be, to poison say, a doorknob or a banister. Something innocuous and unexpected.

‘It’ll test for ninety of the most common poisons.’ March murmurs after he’s finally sucked the rest of the banana into his mouth and eaten it all. Impressive. Bet he could give good blow jobs with that gag reflex. Speaking of … I’ve sort of been wondering if he has a thing with the Mad Hatter?

Wouldn’t surprise me.

‘And if you leave it for about a week,’ he continues, taking care with what he’s doing to Dee. That makes me happy, to see that he actually does give a shit about this poison stuff. It’s the first time I’ve seen him really show off his own personality, aside from being the Mad Hatter’s second-in-command. ‘You can test for another nine.’

‘Ninety-nine poisons, huh?’ I ask as March steps up next to me again. When he gets close enough, the stale reek of the dungeon fades away, and I get a hint of gardenia and the musky bitterness of dark tea on the back of my tongue. He smells like a tea party in a garden, this giant dude with all the needles and knives. ‘Can we test the Knave’s dress? I don’t trust her for shit.’

The March Hare smiles at me and looks up, meeting my eyes.

‘Can I tell you a secret?’ He leans in and puts his lips disturbingly close to my ear, stirring my hair against my overheated skin. ‘Neither do I.’

I shiver as he grabs hold of my arm, rubbing my pulse with his thumb, and then pricks me—all while staring into my eyes. Those shifting flecks of color in his gaze remind me of fall again, of pumpkins and changing leaves and apple cider. The March Hare has all of the colors.

“You know what,” he says, taking a step back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Take this.” March reaches behind his back and pulls the glowing purple knife off the table, balancing the hilt on his fingertip for a moment before he flicks it up in the air, lets it spin, and then catches it again. He grabs a leather sheath off the table and slips it inside before offering it up to me. “Just don’t stab yourself with it, love, or you are f-u-c-k-e-d. Up bloody shit creek with no paddle.”

He winks at me as he hands over the knife, tangling our fingers together in a very purposeful way. I notice then that his fingers are covered in rings, and I have to wonder if it’s just for looks … or for beating people up. Hmm. Considering the way he flanks Raiden Walker, like some movie bad boy bodyguard, I’m guessing the latter.

“Why?” I ask, sliding the knife out and gazing at the glowing poison. Not particularly subtle, but I don’t think this is meant to be. No, a weapon like this is a threat, a warning, like a caterpillar patterned in bright colors. Fuck off, jubjub bird. “There’s no antidote?”

“Just my cum,” he says with a bright grin, and I swear on Hearts and Diamonds, I almost stab him with his own blade.

Why does everything in this world have to do with drinking semen?!

“Well, shit, if that isn’t motivation to take care …” I use the leather straps on the back of my new sheath to hook it to my thigh holster, putting the poisoned weapon right next to the Vorpal Blade.

Look at me: I am a veritable freaking badass.

“If you get into any trouble at the ball,” March says, leaning his tight ass against the table and crossing his huge arms over his chest. His grin is cheeky as fuck, white-white teeth in a face cloaked in shadow. “Stab the cocksucker with that, and I’ll know exactly where you are.”

I glance over at Tee and Dee, both of them watching my interaction with March with interest.

I turn back to him and smile, touching my fingers to the knife.

“Thank you,” I tell him, and both brows go up. Pretty sure he expected some witty banter.

He’ll get that … later. For now, I’m just trying to be nice.

“You’re welcome?” he says, almost like it’s a question, tilting his head to one side as a single one of his ears flattens back against his skull. Aha. He doesn’t know quite what to make of me, and I love it. “Now, shall we prick you again, Doll?”

Doll.

Fantastic.

Another goddamn nickname.

North is naked on my bed when I get upstairs.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ I whisper, but I’m actually seriously turned on when I find him there with nothing but a scrap of blanket over his erect dick. ‘Look at you, jumping the gun like that.’ I fill a plate with goodies from the refreshments table as Tee goes about preparing cups of chamomile tea for Dee and me. I’ve learned from conversations with the twins that it’s boosted with a drug that makes you go to sleep fast, and sleep well. That, I can handle. It’s just, like, melatonin or something.

‘I’m just making myself available,’ the Duke drawls as I sit down on the bed and accept the cup of tea from the angel prince’s fingers. Tee gives me a tight smile as he does the same for his brother, and then sits down at the desk to pull out his journal.

We both like to write down our thoughts, me and Tee. It makes me like him more. If I do get to go back home, I should grab my diary while I’m there. I’d even start a new one tonight if I felt I had the energy. But after the sex, the shooting, the dancing, and the poison … I have nothing left.

‘If you’re too tired to change into pajamas,’ the cat purrs, curled up in a black and white ball on his cat tree,’ you could certainly sleep in the nude.’

I kick my boots off onto the floor and give him a look.

‘Sorry, dude, not tonight. You’re just going to have to use your imagination if you want to see my boobs.’ I give him a tight smile, flip him off, and then take a sip of my tea.

‘Imagination is the only weapon in the war against reality,’ Chesh purrs, shifting into human form as he leaps off the cat tree and lands on all fours on my bed. His collar jangles as he slides up between North and me. ‘Jules de Gaultier.’

‘How do you know who Jules de Gaultier is?’ I ask. I mean, you have to admit, it’s weird as hell that the Cheshire Cat knows a quote from an obscure French philosopher.

‘He used to live in Underland, before he traveled Topside after the Riving,’ Chesh says, grinning widely at me. ‘Don’t you love how full of useless information I am? All cats are, you know. We’re keepers of knowledge.’

I snort in response, picking through the banana bread on my plate as I look for insects or flowers or whatever other weird shit might be in it. Working off a random thought, I pull one of the March Hare’s test bottles from my pocket, unscrew the top, and swab my food. I put it back into the liquid, put the top back on, and shake it up as instructed.

‘Not poisoned,’ I say as the liquid stays clear. March had said it would turn cloudy right away if there was even a trace of poison.

‘Likely not,’ Chesh purrs, kneading the pillows next to me with his black painted fingernails. ‘The card servants test all your food before they put it down. If it were poisoned, you’d see their corpses littering the floor around the table.’

‘Thank you for that image,’ I say as I eat my food, smiling when Dee begins to snore.

‘You’re quite welcome,’ the cat replies, pillowing his head on his arms and swishing his tail as he closes his eyes.

The door to the room opens, and Lar and Rab walk in, completing our little evening routine. To be quite honest, I’m starting to enjoy it. I’m glad we have a few days before the ball. There’s a weird feeling in my gut, like everything’s going to change after that. So even though I know it won’t last, I want to enjoy this peace for a few more days.

‘Evening, Miss Alice,’ Rab says, taking off his shoes near the door and getting comfortable in one of my chairs. The Duke makes an annoyed sound, but he doesn’t bother moving from his position on my bed to put any clothes on. I’m quite enjoying the bronze expanse of his chest, so I appreciate that.

Besides, I never said I’d changed my mind about, uh, mating.

‘Sunshine,’ Lar says, sweeping his jacket off his shoulders and hanging it up.

‘Evening to you both.’ I set my empty plate and cup aside, unstrapping the Vorpal Blade from my thigh and setting it on the nightstand. North had originally said the blade was owed to him. I wonder why? But that’s a question for another day. I’m too tired to delve into it tonight.

‘How was your appointment with the March Hare?’ Lar asks, lips twitching as he spreads his wings open wide and stands with his back to the fire. Based on the cheeky expression on his face, I think he already knows.

‘You dropped that information about his Raiden-form on purpose.’ I don’t even phrase it as a question; I know it’s true.

‘He liked that, did he?’ Lar pushes his hair back from his face and uses a gold hairband he pulls from his pocket to tie it back. ‘I know all sorts of things about the Mad Hatter and the March Hare that would, well, not drive them mad since they’re already mad, but perhaps madder still.’

‘He told me his third form was a slithy tove,’ I say, and several of the men laugh. Tee ignores it all, scribbling things down in his journal. The clock strikes twelve as he’s writing, and he gasps, his wings folding into his back and leaving the glossy sheen of feather tattoos on the backs of his arms.

Note to self: break that fucking curse!

I care about the twins now, and I want to see them freed. Plus, I’m a smug bitch. I would love to see the Knave’s face after I fuck up her spell. That’d be priceless.

‘He is a tove, I believe, yes,’ Lar replies, surprising me. ‘It’s a useful form, I’d think.’

‘It’s a throwaway,’ Rab growls, looking toward the painting on the wall that depicts the March Hare sitting at a tea party. It has not escaped my knowledge that the nine men I’m now surrounded by are all featured in these paintings. Or that I find them all physically attractive, even if their attitudes stink.

Fucking prophecy.

‘What’s your final form?’ I look Rab straight in the face when he turns to stare at me, his gaze as icy as his voice. I feel like I must be getting frost on the tips of my eyelashes.

‘State secret,’ he says, and I groan in frustration, flopping back into the pillows.

If there’s a polite way to ask the rest of the men in the room to vacate so I can fuck a dragon, please point me in the right direction because I don’t know how to go about doing it.

‘Come to my room,’ North whispers in my ear, making me shiver. Chesh lays between us, but he doesn’t seem bothered much by North’s naked body leaning over him. I guess as the Duke’s pet, he’s probably seen worse. I wonder how many women he’s seen North take to his bed? For whatever reason, that thought pisses me the hell off. ‘I’ll fuck you into my mattress, and make us both scream.’

‘Oh lord,’ I choke out, but I’m opening my eyes and sliding them over to look at the jabberwock painting on the wall.

‘Go,’ Chesh says, nuzzling against my arm. ‘If he doesn’t get mated, the Duke will be rather savage.’

‘I …’ I start, but nobody is looking at me, nobody’s judging. And I am curious as to what the Suits look like down those long hallways. ‘I’ll at least go and take a look at your room.’

Chesh chuckles, like he’s calling my bluff and I smack him, standing up to follow North into his chambers. His bare bronze ass when he stands up is glorious.

Don’t drool, Allison, I think as he pads over and unlocks the painting for me, letting it swing aside so I can step into the hallway. Gotta wonder where he was keeping that key though. Clenched between his firm, bronzed buttocks perhaps?

Buttocks.

I snort and then slap my hand over my mouth to cut off the sound.

‘Do you know,’ the Duke continues as he follows along, the door swinging shut behind us. ‘That in a siege, your attackers must fight their way through all nine chambers before they get to yours. That main door is spelled; anyone without a key must be let in by someone inside.’

‘That’s … pretty fucking cool actually,’ I say, sweat dripping down the back of my neck. It does not help me calm down much when North reaches out and tickles my skin with his claws. No, pretty sure my dripping sweat becomes a monsoon. It’s like I’m nervous or something, a blushing virgin on her way to the honeymoon suite. Cue eyeroll.

I follow the hall to its natural end, pausing to glance into a glorious marble bathroom on the right before I step into the bedroom.

It’s small, but cozy, shaped like a heart with a bed situated in the point opposite us. There’s a dresser on either side of me, both of them wilting and wonky, like they’re melting. The ceiling is draped with red fabric, the floor with rugs, and there are chaises and chairs scattered all around. Also, I’m pretty sure the Alice statue on the opposite side of the room just waved at me.

‘My sweet mate,’ North growls into my hair, wrapping his arms around me from behind. ‘Every day that I don’t touch you is torture.’

‘We fucked once; that doesn’t make me your mate,’ I whisper, but the words sound weak, like even I don’t believe them. That’s been happening a lot to me lately; it’s like maybe I don’t know myself at all. Or maybe I just stopped trying after Fred died. I changed after everything that happened, and I changed into someone I didn’t want to know. Perhaps it’s time for me to try? If I do, I might find that I don’t hate myself as much as I thought I did.

‘That’s what it means to me,’ North says, pushing me forward. I stumble a bit, putting my palms flat on the surface of the bed to catch myself. I’m fairly certain that’s exactly the position he wants me in, bent over with my ass sticking out.

Instead, I stand up and spin around before he can grab me.

I look up and meet gold eyes shimmering with lust.

‘Slow down, would you?’ I say, putting my hands on his flat stomach. Liam was not sexy like this, not even close. He was a boy, and North is most certainly a man. It’s like I’m not even sure where to put my hands; I just want to touch all of him.

‘How can I slow down when all I want is to ravage you?’ the Duke whispers back, his voice hoarse, his tail trashing. I reach up and give a tug on one of his horns. I could never take him back home; he wouldn’t last a day in Topside. Of course, the horns and tail are dead giveaways. I imagine he can probably shift them off the way he does his wings, but his temper would eventually get the better of him.

‘Ravage, huh?’ I ask, sliding my fingers down his body. He’s already sweaty, that musky, masculine scent of his driving me up the wall. ‘That’s a strong word.’

‘I have strong emotions,’ he says, curling his tail around my waist and yanking me even closer to him, so close that his erect cock is trapped between our bodies. With a snap of his fingers, he lights the flickering candles in the room and dims the chandelier at the same time. Magic. I can’t wait to be able to use my magic.

‘I can see that,’ I whisper, pushing him back with my hands on his chest.

North obliges and moves back. Let’s be honest: if he didn’t want to move, I would not be able to make him. He’s huge and built like a truck. Plus, you know, he can turn into a dragon. Maybe my Alice magic could blow him to bits if I really tried, but I’m sort of fond of the guy now.

Slowly, I drop to my knees with the Savage Duke standing above me.

When I look up and meet his gold eyes, they’re practically molten, dripping with lust. His horns cast wicked shadows on the ceiling and walls, making him look like a monster. A beautiful monster, but a monster nonetheless.

I wrap the fingers of my right hand around his bronze shaft and give it a squeeze, just to test his sensitivity. North exhales, tangling clawed fingers in my hair. He’s dominant, but not cruel, and a definite change of pace from the twins. Dee is loving and cheerful, Tee is reserved but intense, and North is … savage.

He’s fucking primal.

Licking my lips, I put my mouth up to the head of his cock and gently kiss his hot flesh, working my way down his shaft to his balls. My tongue runs along that seam of flesh in the middle as my fingers tease the soft skin.

‘Allison Liddell,’ he grinds out, his hips moving up to meet my face. ‘You’re going to break my black, little heart, aren’t you?’

I just smile and keep going, licking and teasing him until his breathing is ragged. Then I oblige his desires and put my mouth over the head of his cock, just enough that he can feel the warm, wet heat of my tongue, but gets no satisfaction from it.

My right hand works his dick like a corkscrew, twisting around his shaft and making him growl in frustration.

‘I want to fuck your mouth right now,’ he snarls, but he doesn’t move. He just sits there and lets me pleasure him, working salty pre-cum from the tip. I can’t believe I’m sucking off a dragon, I think, and seeing as my jaw is already starting to ache, I know the prophecy is right about one thing.

Nine big cocks.

‘Aren’t you glad we’re taking our time?’ I whisper, making sure my lips move against his shaft when I speak. Once I’ve got him all lubed up with saliva, I breathe against the shiny wetness on his cock, and he snarls at me.

‘I can’t quite decide at this precise moment,’ he grinds out, and I grin. I open my mouth and lightly tease him with my teeth before sliding my lips over the head, taking as much of him in as I can.

I slide my mouth up and down North’s shaft like a porn star, and then hold him deep in my throat. That’s when I start to hum. As soon as the sound vibrates from my mouth and into his shaft, the Savage Duke fucking loses it.

He slides his cock from my lips, picks me up off the floor, and tosses me onto the bed.

He’s crawling on top of me before I can even catch my breath.

The Duke of Northumbria pins me to the black fur comforter on his bed, his strong hands holding my wrists with a firm but controlling intensity that makes my heart flutter. I both love it, and find that it scares me.

‘I …’ I start, thinking of Liam and his friends, struggling to pin me down. I don’t want to have flashbacks like that with the Duke, but I can’t help it. There’s so much trauma inside my chest that I’ve never dealt with, and I can’t keep pushing it back. I know that as soon as I cross that Looking-Glass, it’ll come rushing back, a tsunami of pain and frustration. I’m from a world that doesn’t care or respect me, and now I’m in one where everyone wants a piece.

I don’t even know what to do with myself.

‘Relax, Miss Liddell,’ North whispers, putting his mouth to the side of my neck and kissing me. ‘You’re quite tense all of a sudden.’

‘I had something happen to me,’ I say, but I don’t want to go into it. There’s no point in ruining this moment. To be honest, I just want to get fucked by a dragon and not think about any of it. But maybe if I say it aloud, some of the pressure will go away?

North stiffens up, releasing his grip on my wrists. I put my palms up against his chest, over the hard points of his nipples.

‘Someone hurt my mate?’ he asks through gritted teeth, gold hair falling across his face and getting stuck to his sweaty brow. ‘I’ll fucking tear their cocks off, and melt their faces with fire.’ He exhales and little puffs of smoke escape his nostrils. He leans down to rub against the side of my face.

‘They didn’t get to go through with what they were planning,’ I say, licking my lips and noticing that North sits up and takes notice, his eyes following the path of my tongue like a man possessed. “Although the incident did ruin my life. Is it wrong for me to want to start a new one?” He shakes his head and looks at me with this undeniable certainty.

“No.”

Fucking kiss me then, I think, and either he’s a mind reader or else he’s just good with body language.

The Duke drops his face to mine, capturing my lips with a delicious fervor that reignites the passion in my blood. Later, I’ll tell him more about what happened. Right now, I just want him to touch me … all … fucking … over.

North cups the back of my head with one hand, cradling my skull in his huge palm while he kisses me, paying special attention to my lower lip. He sucks it in between his teeth and then nibbles on it, making me writhe. His musky male and sandalwood smell is like a perfumed cloud, taking over my body and drowning my senses, making it hard for me to believe there’s anything else left in the universe.

He’s so much taller than me, so much bigger, and I love it, especially when he uses his tail to reach up and unbutton my pants. The muscular tip slips inside and strokes my already damp panties, just before he uses it to start pulling my pants and underwear down.

‘I want to be consumed by you,’ he growls, and I swear, even as my clothing comes off, I giggle.

‘You just want me because I’m the Alice,’ I say with a roll of my eyes, and North goes completely still.

‘Lies,’ he hisses, and there’s literal fire on his breath. ‘It was your scent that got me. A jabberwock chooses its mate by scent. You smelled like mine from moment one.’

‘I thought female jabberwocky picked their mates?’ I ask, suddenly breathless again, and North snarls, biting my lower lip.

‘Sometimes they do, sometimes they rape the males, sometimes it’s a mutual attraction. Allison Liddell, our attraction is mutual, is it not?’

He sits up and yanks my pants aside, chucking them onto the floor, and then tearing my shirt off next. The fabric rends as he tosses it away like it’s somehow personally offended him, and then he goes for the corset next.

‘It’s mutual,’ I whisper as his bronze fingers slow, and he carefully undoes the hook and eye clasps, unwrapping my sweaty, aching body from the corset like he’s just gotten the most amazing Christmas present.

‘Look at how beautiful you are, Allison,’ he snarls, and then he flips me over and puts my ass in the air, holding onto my hips as he positions himself at my opening.

We’re both naked, both sweaty, and I can tell this is going to be just as wild and animalistic as our first time.

‘Fuck me, Savage Duke,’ I whisper, and that’s all it takes. He drives himself into me hard, his pelvis hitting my ass with an audible smack. His hips move with a wild frenzy as I dig my fingers into the fuzzy bedspread and hold on for dear life.

There’s something so freeing, so wild about that moment, and yet all I can think about is what he just said to me: It was your scent that got me.

My scent.

I find that wildly sexy.

North squeezes my pelvic bone with his fingers and curls his tail around my waist to help hold me in place as he pounds into me, his balls hitting my clit and teasing just the right spot to make me groan.

I don’t feel like a lost, restless young idiot in that moment; there’s something about taking control of my sexuality like this that makes me feel like a strong, capable adult. I know it’s just fucking, but … I like it. And I like knowing that I do.

The Duke isn’t gentle with me, taking me hard and fast, just like I wanted.

Surprisingly, he gets me to finish first, my body collapsing onto the bed, the only thing holding me in place his muscular tail.

My muscles spasm around him as he readjusts his pace, transitioning to slow, steady thrusts that make me feel like I’m sobbing. It almost feels too good, too intense. I don’t even know where to begin.

North pulls out and flips me onto my back, holding his slick cock in his hand and staring down at me with his metallic eyes as he works himself with confident, sure strokes.

I bite my lower lip and wait, absorbing this moment and filing it away for later. Surely, there will be some shitty times in my life, and this will be one of those split-seconds in time that I hold onto and dream about later.

The Duke lets his head fall back, his glorious golden hair feathering against his dark horns, and then he comes with a sharp buck of his hips, spilling his seed all over my belly.

When he collapses onto all fours, I think we’re done, and I try to decide if we’re going to snuggle in here or if I should shower and rejoin the twins or … or what. There is no Google here for me to look up when in a polyamorous relationship, should I stay in bed with guy three while guys one and two are waiting back in my room?

Wouldn’t that be nice if there was an easy answer to that question?

But then North’s mouth is on my belly, making my stomach muscles flutter as he kisses and licks the sticky semen from my skin. My fingers tangle in his hair and then slowly creep toward his shiny, black horns, taking hold of him and steering him to my aching clit.

His tongue finds the sensitive, swollen bit of flesh, swirling around it and working it into a stiff, desperate frenzy. It’s that pleasure on the edge of pain, that line that both wants to be crossed and abhors it. It’s that moment in the bedroom where you’re not even sure you know your own body anymore.

I let mine take control, thrusting my hips up against North’s face as he takes hold of my pelvis, his claws pricking my skin, drawing tiny beads of blood. He licks these off, too, and then moves to my opening, loving me with his tongue before he uses his long black tail to slide into me.

I’m not sure at first if I love it … or hate it.

But then he crooks the tip and teases the sensitive flesh just inside my opening, and I’m done for yet again.

I yank the Duke up toward my face by tugging on his horns, and then I kiss him, tasting a mixture of his seed and my own on his lips.

“You’ve got the Duke on your side now, the Alice,” he whispers, kissing his way along my jaw. “So tell me, what will you do with me?”

“Well,” I whisper, panting and tingling and enjoying the aftershocks of my double orgasm, “I think … I’m going to turn Underland into Wonderland again.”