rolls his eyes. “Well, I suppose. If My Queen commands it.”
I bark a laugh.
His white teeth shine, his jewels flashing between amusement and adoration, and I know he sees the same thing in the gems blinking along my wings.
“No more looking back,” he says, his gaze settling on the backpack behind me, next to my old clothes.
The sad pang triggered by his statement softens as I concentrate solely on his face. “I have many treasured human memories. Even without keepsakes, they’ll be with me for eternity.”
Morpheus nods. “Your mortal knight was an honorable man . . . he wanted what is best for you. He would want you to be happy.”
I suppress the burn behind my eyes. “Yes, he said I should move forward. You know as well as I, that memories are often the key to that.”
Morpheus purses his lips, restraint and wildness battling for control of his features. “So, does that mean you’re ready then? To move forward?”
“What do my wings say?” I ask, fluttering them softly so he can decipher the jewel tones.
He grins. “They say you want to race me across the clouded skies of Wonderland, and that you think I’ll let you win.”
A tingling thrill skitters from my feet to my wing tips. “On the contrary,” I correct. “They say we’re both going to win this time.” Balanced on my tiptoes, I throw my arms around his neck and give him the mind-numbing kiss I promised, deepening it when he groans in pleasure. His tongue dances with mine, flavored with dense, sweet black licorice and storm-swept forests—all things exotic, lush, and untamed.
He lifts me into his arms, pressing our bodies together and spinning us around until my dress’s long train trips us. We crash against the purple-striped wall, laughing like children.
My face pulses hot with vitality. “Morpheus.”
“Yes, my blushing blossom,” he whispers, breath ragged along my neck as he helps me untangle my right wing from a red velvet curtain and satiny gold cords of rope.
I’m the one trembling now, imagining being tangled up with him in satin sheets and velvety blankets. “Let’s not put the wedding off for another second. The Red Court needs a king, and I want to sleep in his bed tonight. You’ve waited long enough for your queen, for your dream-child.”
He makes a sound, somewhere between a relieved moan and a blissful sigh, then lowers himself to his knees, using his hands and mouth to appraise the way the dress clings to my curves on the way down. The rosebuds vanish and reappear with his touch.
“Something tells me”—his voice rumbles low against my abdomen as he clutches my hips—“you will both be so very, very worth the wait.”
It’s the first time he’s ever been so intimate with his explorations. I weave my fingers through his silken hair and nuzzle his head, struggling to contain the emotions and sensations rocking through me. Somewhere, locked inside my young body, is an old woman’s wisdom and worldliness. So why do I suddenly feel so inexperienced and exposed?
His hands find their way to the hem of my dress at my feet, and he raises the enchanted fabric just enough to expose my left ankle in the candlelight. He traces where my netherling birthmark is bared, no longer covered by a tattoo. “I must admit, I’m going to miss your tribute to me. But small price to pay, to have everything back as it was the moment I first confessed my love for you.”
I frown, determined to tease him. “I told you, the tattoo wasn’t a moth. It was wings.”
Morpheus slants his head, smirking. “Look at my words from every angle, luv. Consider what they mean, beneath the surface.”
It takes his prompting for me to stop and think . . . for things to fully register—the depth of the change in my body. Everything back as it was when he first confessed his love. Beneath the surface.
My tattoo is gone. Which means I’m sixteen through and through, exactly like the moment I was first crowned in the Red castle. Before I got wings inked across my ankle to hide my netherling birthmark . . . before I became a mother and grandmother. Before I even became a bride.
Against every impossibility, I’m innocent and untouched once more.
I inhale loudly, shocked by the revelation.
Morpheus looks up at me with smug satisfaction.
“You knew all along,” I say, caressing his face. “You knew it would end like this.”
“Of course I did. Isn’t magic a splendid thing?”
I answer him with