Untamed - A. G. Howard Page 0,16
one of my favorites, for how the color complements his complexion, and how the silky fabric clings to his form. I skim my fingers along his chest before I close the placket. His daily fencing regimen has refined his muscles to a new level—a sophisticated and seasoned density that only a man his age could acquire. “So . . . I guess this impromptu trip means you’ve decided to forfeit our sword fight tomorrow. Are you sure that’s wise? Don’t get me wrong, you’re in great shape. I’m just not sure you have the legs for a miniskirt.”
He chuckles, causing the dimple in his chin that matches Alyssa’s to catch a shadow and appear deeper. “Oh, we’ll be back in time to defend our titles. We’re going to take a shortcut.” He places my key necklace around my neck. “Our royal daughter offered us the use of her mirror.”
I force a smile, in spite of the chill that wraps my spine—as if ice-tipped spiders are spinning webs of frost around each bone. Every time I use the looking-glass passages, I feel like I’m falling back into my past, which is why, when we make our visits to the Skeffingtons in London, I always insist we go the traditional route and take a commercial flight.
But tonight, I don’t have the heart to put a damper on his plans. I can do this. We’ll still be in the human realm, after all.
There was a time I craved stepping through the glass and going down the rabbit hole, just to see the landscapes and creatures again. But after being trapped there a few months ago, spending every day and every night in Ivory’s castle, helping Grenadine plug her memory leaks, I’m done. I’m ready to stay here for the rest of my days, with Thomas and Alyssa. I get my fix for netherling companionship at Humphrey’s Inn twice a month when we visit Thomas’s family. That’s enough.
“Okay. Just let me finish dressing.” I bend down to gather the strappy sandals, but Thomas beats me to it, falling to his knees at my feet.
“Wait, now,” he scolds, low and gentle. “That’s a knight’s job, princess.” He lifts my bare foot, pressing his lips to my ankle before slipping the shoe into place. He does the same with my other foot, then finishes with a kiss at my knee before placing the sole of my shoe gently on the floor.
“My sweet Tommy-toes.” I lean forward so our foreheads touch, so I can get lost in his warm, kind eyes.
Grinning that Elvis smirk that I adore, Thomas stands and helps me up. He grabs a sport jacket and my lacy shawl, then leads me across the hall and into Alyssa’s room. Muffled laughter and conversation burst from the kitchen. The scent of melting cheese, spicy pepperoni, and marinara sauce makes my mouth water. The kids must’ve decided on homemade pizza.
“So, we’re going to Humphrey’s Inn?” I ask, suddenly craving a plate of spaghetti Bolognese with a side of artichoke-feta garlic bread, my favorite of Hubert’s specialties.
“That’s on the agenda,” Thomas answers. “We’ll be spending the night there. But first, we’re going to Ironbridge Gorge.” He flashes the mushrooms in his jacket pocket—our “tickets” to the memory train—before shrugging into the sleeves.
I frown and help him straighten his lapels, studying our shared reflection in Alyssa’s cheval mirror—a French silver-framed antique she found at a thrift store. It was the first thing she bought upon our return from Wonderland, so she could check in with her subjects throughout the day when necessary. “I don’t understand. Why would we go to the Iron Bridge? Haven’t we seen all there is to see?”
“You haven’t,” Thomas answers, his face glazed with pinkish sunset. “I know you’re still wrestling with regrets. I see the pain on your face every day.” He traces my frown with his thumb. “It’s time to forgive yourself. Time for you to realize the positive impact that letting Morpheus and Wonderland into your life has had on the rest of us, because you’ve dwelt so long on the negative, you’ve lost sight of it. I asked Alyssa about lost memories yesterday. She told me that once they’re stored as cargo, they become part of the train, even after they’re viewed by the one who made them. So, we’re going to take one last look at my missing years, but this time, we’re doing it together. You need to see what would’ve become of us all, had you not