Untamed - A. G. Howard Page 0,44
took great pleasure watching me walk on my tiptoes across the tightwire of suppressed attraction, he kept his vow and respected my stand to be faithful to Jeb. He even waited for three years as I grieved my mortal husband’s death and prepared my family for my inevitable parting. That was the depth of his respect for me. He’d earned the same respect in turn. And so much more . . .
Now the day and hour has come to reward him for his patience, and I’m starting to regret that I didn’t let him plan my death . . . let him run the show. It probably would have gone smoother. I’d already be in his arms and in his bed—a young butterfly queen, ruling over my kingdom, drunk on power, madness, and passion.
No. I can do this. I can prove that I’m capable, calculating, and strong, as all good queens should be.
Morpheus’s only role in my plan was to send the counter potion with Rabid. The moment my skeletal accomplice arrives, everything will fall into place and I’ll make my escape into Wonderland. Since a body can’t be exhumed once it’s been reduced to ash and bone, no one will ever know that I’m still alive, only gone from this world forever.
A pang of sadness chases that thought as finality hits. It’s over. I’m ready to end it . . . to start my immortal future. I’ve lived a full life here. My family is healthy and happy. We’re on the best of terms. Every human dream has been fulfilled and my heart is strong and whole once more.
Yet because of that, there’s so much to leave behind. There’s no unfinished business, but it’s still hard to say good-bye forever. Once the crown is placed on my head to jump-start my immortality, I don’t have to wear it constantly to retain my youth, but I do have to stay in Wonderland. Just as Ivory once told me, time is tricky stepping back through the portal into the human world . . . one has to envision a specific hour, or the clock goes in reverse and will drop you into the exact same moment you stepped through.
If I try to cross the borders into the human realm after I leave, I’ll either return perpetually to this moment and be eighty again over and over, or I’ll automatically be aged however long I’ve been gone and turn to dust on the spot. Add to that the fact that I’ll be dead in everyone’s eyes—I could never explain my reappearance without causing undue terror or confusion—and going back and forth is no longer a feasible option.
An impenetrable wall is about to rise between my family and me, leaving us with nothing but memories.
Jeb’s face resurfaces in my mind before I can stop it . . . the way his glistening green eyes held my gaze that last moment before he closed them in death. How they were so full of love and gratitude for all the dreams we’d shared.
My throat swells and there’s a tug behind my lashes. The small metal identity tag at my chest feels like a pile of bricks.
Stop. I can’t do this now. I have to concentrate on escape. Morpheus was right. Thinking of those I’ve loved and lost will only hinder me. I’ll keep the memories at bay . . . suppress how I faced Mom and Dad’s death, how I thought I’d never survive the grief. How Jeb was my rock, like always. Just like I was for him, when his mom passed.
It’s futile to think of any of that now, because the moment Jeb died, the whole world distorted—took on a new form that I didn’t recognize. Everyday things became foreign and unwelcoming. With him gone, I no longer belonged.
My metamorphosis was complete the moment my mortal husband stopped breathing. All that’s left now is breaking out of my weather-beaten cocoon.
A new scent sifts through my cardboard surroundings—aftershave or deodorant—forcing me back to the present as two men converse on the other side of the lid.
“Last one tonight, Frank?”
“That it is, Brian. Just came in a few hours ago. Delivery only. And there’s a rush on her. You want me to stay and help?”
I struggle to breathe. My plan doesn’t allow for two witnesses. Only one. As I await the crematory operator’s answer, my heart hunkers inside me, filling with dread. The organ seems to quiver, though there’s no pulse along my wrists or