Untamed - A. G. Howard Page 0,2

spirit doesn’t harbor crown magic and I’m mortal still. Even if I outlive my husband, it won’t be by very long. And I’m secure in that inevitability.

Watching Jeb and Alyssa wrestling and laughing prompts a smile of my own. They’re so like Thomas and myself at that age—filled with hope. The difference is, they have a real chance at getting everything they’ve dreamed of, because there are no lies between them. Wonderland is an open book they’ve both read and lived. They’ve even brought Jenara and Corbin into the circle of trust.

Thomas and I didn’t have the truth to bridge us, until recently. And I have my daughter to thank for giving us this second chance, and for giving me back my sanity. I close my eyes, listening. All I hear is the gurgling water in our fountain, and Jebediah and Alyssa’s horseplay. No bugs chatting. No flowers whispering.

At my request, three months ago when Thomas, Alyssa, her fiancé, and I returned from our final sojourn to Wonderland, Alyssa used her royal powers to put a stop to the endless nattering in my ears, and she’s made sure that her descendants will hear only silence. She alone has a direct line to the insects and plants now. Just as she’s the only one who still makes regular visits to the nether-realm in her dreams.

Although I still have my wing buds and eye markings, my netherling attributes will make an appearance only if I allow it. So for the first time since I was sixteen, I feel normal. And for the first time since I was twelve, I remember silence.

I thought I might miss the tiny whispering voices that carried me through my adolescence, that became my confidants when no one else would listen, but I don’t need them as a crutch anymore. I have a family now, and a husband who knows and shares my Wonderland history.

I’ll never be alone again.

My eyes open as I feel Thomas’s strong fingers weave through mine as if he’s reading my thoughts. Nothing anchors me like the feel of his hand in mine.

“You kids have fun,” he says. “We’re calling it a day.” He turns his coffee-rich brown eyes on me and kisses my knuckles, prompting a thrill that races all the way from my arm to my heart. “I promised my blushing bride I’d take her out for our twentieth anniversary. We’ll pick up again tomorrow.” He squints toward Corbin and Jenara. “Unless you two are ready to forfeit now. We all know how this is going to end. Age and wisdom always trump youth and recklessness.” His teasing Elvis sneer is met with guffaws and huffs by the younger set.

“As if, Mr. G.” Jenara snorts. “Tomorrow . . . same time, same place. I’ll be the one in the black fencing gear. And remember: The loser has to wear a short, frilly dress in public. Prepare for the makeover of your life.”

While Thomas showers, I study myself in the mirror over the bathroom sink. A mundane task to most people, but one I had avoided since the day I first met my husband.

At last, after all these years, I don’t have to hide from mirrors anymore. I no longer have to worry about seeing Morpheus’s judgmental frown behind me in my reflection.

My dress is simple and elegant: ivory lace with a low V-back and cap sleeves. A strip of contrasting lace—the color of a cappuccino—slims my waist and complements the sun-kissed glow of my freshly scrubbed skin. The bodice hugs my breasts and the skirt my hips—the hem swishing at midcalf. Alyssa and Jenara helped me pick it out at the thrift store, swearing it was sexy enough to make Thomas’s eyes bug out. I’m eager to test that theory.

We were apart, needlessly, for too long. Maybe that’s why he makes me feel like a young girl in love, because each moment spent together is like learning everything—his sweet words, his kisses, his laughter, and his goodness—anew.

With a sweep of rouge at my cheeks and a blot of burgundy on my lips, I’m ready. Energy and vitality pulse through me and trigger little sparks of magic beneath my skin. My shoulder-length platinum hair twines seductively around my face, so I begin the task of pinning it up in ringlets at the base of my neck with glittery, jeweled clips to imprison it.

A woman about to go on a date with her husband of twenty years . . . this is what I