by A. K. Koonce
The smallest smirk pulls at my lips. Of all of Lighton’s screwed up sayings, a shitting fly definitely outdoes a flying shit, I think.
“Yes. He took the manic focus off of me and buried himself under it.”
Why is it so unbelievable that I’d care about Alixx?
“He fucked you and then fucked you less than twenty-four hours ago.” Lighton’s tone comes out in a growl, and the masculine sound shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.
I need to have a real talk with my ovaries about what’s considered normal and what’s not.
But normal is so overrated.
“I want to see him.” My chin lifts, and with every ounce of confidence I gain, Lighton holds in another bundle of shaking anger.
And my ovaries are being beaten down with a stick just so I won’t completely climb his growling body right now.
Angry jealousy is not attractive. It’s not normal, Maddy.
“Fine,” Lighton grinds out.
Exploding ovaries are a real thing.
Lustful confetti is raining down in my body right now. And all I give him is a bland expression and a short nod.
I really might be the Queen of Lust. I just refuse to show it to him.
Yet.
In the darkness of a heavily traveled forest, Lighton’s arm brushes mine. I notice. He doesn’t. We continue on the rutty path, my thin dress trailing over the damp mud, vines tickling my skin here and there, but for the most part, he holds the limbs back for me, appearing like a gentleman even as his annoyance grows with every passing second that slips by in the strained silence between us.
He holds another long branch back, letting the thin bark bow against his palm, his gaze held just above my head so our eyes never meet.
Until he makes the apparently painful mistake of glancing down at me. All that anger inside him seeps right out, his throat visibly working to swallow down whatever is building inside him.
Just like it is me.
It hurts to hate him.
I’m not good at it.
But I’ve never been good at giving up either. So I’ll hold on to my grudge against him for a while longer. Possibly…forever.
Another bout of pain sears through my chest just from the thought of that little word: forever.
“It’s just up the path here along the mountainside,” he whispers on a deep rasping tone that slithers right down into my core.
My arm brushes his once again, and I both love and hate the small burst of emotions that spiral through me every time his skin skims against mine.
When the trees thin, the moonlight shining more fully through the dark green leaves, he stops.
His spine is so steely that it’s all I feel when my palms splay suddenly over his back, bracing myself to stop my body from colliding with his.
He halts entirely as if something in him just clicked and he finally remembered what he wanted to tell me.
“Why’d you kiss him? Why’d you fuck him? Why—Why the hell do you forgive him? And not me?”
I feel his words more than I hear them. They tremble along my fingertips, making me skim my palm up and down the hard lines of his back. The flow of his breath becomes shaking and uneven the moment my palms settle fully onto his body.
It may seem like a consoling touch. But it’s just as much for me as it is for him.
I don’t want to hate Lighton. I don’t. And maybe I’ll forgive him because his grief is so clearly written in the sound of his voice, the downcast turn of his lips, the simple fragile stature of his posture.
It’s all there. So I know I’ll forgive, but I’ll never be able to trust him. Not after what he did.
He turns slowly, and my hands never lower, held there between us on the hard planes of his chest.
“What I do with someone is none of your business.” His searching gaze sweeps over mine. There’s a thrumming sensation pulsing through me, and I can physically feel all the places our bodies aren’t touching.
His head dips, coming closer, so close his mouth nearly brushes mine. I don’t move an inch. His head tilts one way, testing the space between us, letting me breathe in his clean woodsy scent, before he tilts the opposite way, teasing me with the closeness of our bodies, breath, and mouths.
“You’re right,” he says on a low rumbling sigh. “It’s none of my business. You’re not mine.” My heart hates the honesty of that statement, but my chest comes closer, letting us touch, just the slightest skimming of his body against mine. His voice lingers with the growling rasp of his words, and they sink right in when he speaks again. “You’re not mine. But I feel like I’m yours.” He searches my emotions, the widening of my eyes. The heat within me feeling unbearable, especially when his mouth ghosts over mine, his tongue flicking over my bottom lip when he licks his own, tasting me in the most torturously subtle way. He watches me with sexy hooded eyes. Watches me even as my lashes flutter closed, and all I can do is listen to the promise of his words. “I’m yours, Cupcake. Whenever you decide you want me, say the word.”
The warmth of his breath fans along my jawline for another single second.
And then he pulls away.
My eyes clench closed tighter, and I give myself to the count of three to remember how much he hurt me. I count it out, not missing a beat, and then my shoulders square, my chin tips up, and I keep walking like nothing ever happened.
Leaves rustling in the night air guide us to whatever place Lighton knows so well. It’s that calming sound that I focus on.
Until a new chilling noise slices through the silence.
A long endless scream rips through the darkness. It crawls across the flat lands and spider walks right down my spine.
This place feels forgotten and abandoned but the cries and howls most definitely are not.
I wish I could say I didn’t cling to Lighton’s hand the moment I heard it. He squeezes my palm, pulling me closer to his side while he looks out vacantly at the thin forest.
“We’re here,” he whispers.
Ten
Madison
Just a ways ahead, the trees open to a trail, and along that short path, big deep green pine trees guide us to a mountainside. The rocks carve up on our left while the dark forest surrounds us on the right. That pine scent is all around us, but I can’t focus on anything but the cutting scream that never stops. A breath doesn’t even interrupt the man’s pain.
“It’s not Alixx,” I tell Lighton as well as myself, my pace picking up to nearly a run as I say those words over and over again to myself.
“It could be.”
I release his hand, and then I do run. I flat out sprint down the lane, agony guiding me like I’m racing down the aisle to hell.
A clearing opens up at the center. Dirt and mud and a completely foul smell are the foundation for a prison like I’ve never seen before.
Faint flickering red lines form a structure. I can almost see them in the moonlight, but for the most part, the barred crimson magic is transparent. It’s like looking at open framing work rather than a building itself. And yet, on every floor, in every square cell, is a captive, screaming and writhing on the floor.
There are no guards. No fencing. Just that protective magic that the Elders so clearly have complete faith in.
The screams grow, the lines of magic flickering with the most subtle zapping sound accompanying the tortured cries of its prisoners.
“Where is he?” I ask, never once taking my scanning gaze off of the enormous prison.
Mud splatters underfoot, and I hear Lighton shift around for a moment. “If I had to guess, I’d say the South Wing.”
“What makes you say that?” I tilt my head to him, studying him while he peers up at the tall structure looming in the darkness.
“Because that’s where the pretentious sound of silence is coming from.”
My brow lowers. I barely have time to understand his words before his big palm wraps around my hip, and inky smoke curls from his fingertips.
/> And then he steals me away into the night air.
All I see is a cloud of frantic smoke, but I feel him through it all. His chest presses to mine, holding me like the world isn’t ripping by at an unimaginable speed around us. His big palm becomes heavier, skimming so low his fingers graze the curve of my ass.
Every touch he gives me seems burning, but in a tingling way now, like I’m used to it. It sears heat all through me, and the feel of his body against mine becomes a monumental sensation without the assistance of sight or sound.
In this moment, everything I am is Lighton Farrow.
Until the moonlight cuts in, and taunting green eyes meet mine.
We stand on the outside of the flickering bars, suspended high in the air but looking in on it all.
The men in the other cells spasm on the floor of the red lines, seeming in pain from everywhere their body touches the prison. I don’t see those men at all though.
Alixx rests comfortably with his arms crossed behind his head, his big black wings splayed out, touching the space from corner to corner while he lies with his legs crossed in the laziest image of relaxation.
“Were you just in the neighborhood and thought you’d drop by?” The smile tainting his lips is painful to see.
This place is hurting him, but he’s too proud to show it.
Or…he likes it.
I slide out of Lighton’s arms, but he only holds me tighter around my waist.
“If I release you, you’ll fall,” he says, head tilting down to the complete nothingness that we stand on.
“Oh, he’s loving this.” Alixx doesn’t stand to meet us, but that arrogant smile of his widens, his attention eating up how Lighton’s touching me right now. “How? Tell me how you have this magic. You’ve been here for a matter of a few seconds compared to my lifetime.”
“It’s none of your business, Rotter.” The growl in Lighton’s voice hums right through me.
Alixx’s shoulders lift in a careless shrug. “You’re a bigger idiot than I thought to pass up the chance to explain your case in front of the one female who refuses to hear your fucking case.”
Lighton stiffens, his chin tipping low until he’s glancing down at me as I’m glancing up at him. He shifts, therefore I shift.
“It’s not my magic,” Lighton whispers so quietly it barely comes out as a groan. “Liddell wanted a spy in Wanderlust The Elders gave me this magic. I wanted to see my sister in the surface world. That’s it. All I fucking wanted was to see that my sister was okay. Every week, I just wanted her to wake up. The moment she woke up, I would have stopped. I would have stopped reporting, I would have stopped the fucking painful truths he stole from me, I would have stopped being his smoke spy.” The scrape of his words hurts my own chest.
What hurts the most is what he didn’t even say: He would have stopped if she would have woken up, but she hasn’t woken up in three long years.
Cold wind blows at my hair, tossing it across my face and hiding away the down turned pull of my lips. The hesitant way my fingers slide over his makes his breath catch. I hear it stop dead in his lungs even if he doesn’t react. He lets me brush my fingers across every one of his knuckles, one by one in a slow sweeping touch.
“I’m sorry, Madison.” His words are a warm breath along my neck. I lean into him, my back to his front, and the weight of my body is completely welcomed in his arms as he pulls me hard against his chest.
“I always wanted to be a therapist,” Alixx says from out of nowhere. “My mother said I wasn’t the type, but look at me now.”
I straighten, shoving down all the emotions inside me to find the reason I came here in the first place. “Why did you sneak into Wonderland, get vomited up, and lurk in the shadows just to offer yourself up as a prisoner?”
“Give me some credit. I sound like an imbecile when you say it like that, Sweetheart.” He stands. Everything Alixx does is done with thought out dramatic flair.
So no, I don’t believe he put himself in this prison as carelessly as it all seems.
He holds his wings wide, adjusting the white cuffs of his shirt with precision, straightening his jacket by the crisp lapels, and finally tucking that massive wingspan in tight to his shoulders. His gaze is dark when he looks up at me, leveling on me like he’s closing in on prey with every step he takes.
He gets up close and personal with the faint crimson bars that pulse between us, the color shining in his eyes when he looks down on me with only a precarious inch separating him from me.
“I’m here because you’re not. I took Hatter’s focus off of you and put it on me. Had I not thrown myself at his feet, you would be in his little cell instead of me. And you’re far too sweet to survive in such a hellacious place, Madison.”
So many things roll through my mind. Hatter…Elder Liddell is the Mad Hatter…
If he’s the Mad Hatter, who am I?
Why do I always feel so lost?
I swallow that weakness down and focus on more important matters.
Mostly, all I can think about is how selfless Alixx is if you really look at him. If you break him down the way he constantly breaks everyone else down, he’s gentle and caring and so fucking kind that it hurts my heart to see him locked up because of me.
I lean into that dangerous crimson magic, letting it warm my skin. Alixx is faster though. He comes closer, his green eyes watching me even as he brushes his lips along mine, tasting me slowly while the cell pressing to his skin flickers and sparks. He groans a sexy sound of pain and pleasure, flicking his tongue to mine and deepening the kiss, his fingers threading through my hair and making me all too aware that another man holds me in his arms while he fucks my mouth slowly with long sensual strokes of his tongue.
He pulls back, but his lips still ghost over mine like he can’t stand letting me go yet. “You want Wonderland? Right now is when you take it. Watch my trial, play their games, let them be entranced with all of this, while never showing your cards. They’ll be distracted. Use that distraction.” His gaze searches back and forth before dipping low to my lips.
Through the fiery bars, my fingers fist into his perfect white button down, and I pull him closer, his lips pressing fully to mine once more. His teeth drag sharply along my lower lip in a prickle of pain that stings right down between my thighs.
And then he pulls back once again.
“I’m a liar, Sweetheart. Everything I say and everything I do is a lie. I’ll lie to them, just like I lied to Kais.” He pauses, letting that statement sink in until I remember his words of how meaningless I was to him, and my stomach twists even as my heart warms with a flood of confusing emotions. But I don’t let him go.
“I know I’ll hurt you,” he whispers on a rasping tone. “I don’t want to, but I know I will. Just remember, I’ll never lie to you. What you hear and the things people tell you will hurt though. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m sorry that it’ll happen again. And again. And again.” His lips press to mine with the softest touch, and I don’t know why that promise of pain feels romantic.
I don’t understand anything when I’m with these men.
But I want them anyway.
Eleven
Madison
The following morning, I’m reminded of just how bossy Kais can be.
“Don’t wear a dress. Innocence is out. Relentless fierceness is in.” He tosses aside the dress I have laid out on my messy comforter. Then like a crazed fashionista, he shoves throughout the wardrobe, pushing lush fabrics and beautiful gowns aside until he finds what he’s looking for.
Those sexy tattooed hands are very overlooked when he holds out a pair of tight leather pants that most dominatrixes would be jealous of.
“Yeah, unless you wear a muzzle and find me a leash, I’m not wearing those.”
Kais’s confused look is the opposite of Lighton’s chuckling laughter that echoes through the room.
“Mmm, a muzzle.” Lighton passes me a smug smile that I haven’t seen in too long,
and he all but high fives me for my apparent cleverness.
That’s what we’ll call it. Cleverness. Wit. So damn witty.
“Don’t you have an Elder to spy on?” Kais cuts his glare toward Lighton, and all of a sudden, his amusement fades away.
“You woke us up before dawn. So early that Cat refused to get out of Brody’s bed,” Lighton says.
Well, that’s interesting. So much for my bed mate.
I’m the only one who’s interested in that little tidbit, because Lighton continues, “These people are crazed partiers. Liddell won’t be up for another hour. Calm down. It’ll happen when it happens. Time is of the incessant.”
Kais’s glare deepens. “Essence. Time is of the essence.” A heavy sigh pushes from his lungs. “What you’re saying is you’re not willing to clock in a bit early? How the hell did you ever get the job of being a spy?”
“No one else applied, I guess.” Lighton lifts his palms, his lips still quirking with that cocky tilted smile that I actually love seeing on him. He pauses, his eyes narrowing on his friend. “You want me to get out? This is your fucked up authoritative way of telling me you want to be alone.” Another small pause, Lighton nodding slowly. “You want to be alone with Madison.”
“If I wanted you to get out, I wouldn’t hint about it, Light. I’d tell you to get the fuck out.” Kais’s jaw spasms, and even I’m not sure if he’s trying to subtly get the rabbit out of the room. “We all have jobs to do. You have a job to do.”
“I think he’s right. You do need to take this seriously.”
“Are you going to fuck him the moment I shut the door?” Jealousy stings through Lighton’s low rumbling voice.
“If I were, it’d be none of your business. And I don’t need a shut door to fuck him if that’s what you’re really worried about.” My arms fold over my thin night gown, and my skin heats the moment both men look right at me.
There are several tension-building seconds where Kais is looking at me from beneath thick lashes, and Lighton is looking at me with wide watchful eyes.