Feral as a Cat (Sons of Wonderland Book 3)

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Feral as a Cat (Sons of Wonderland Book 3) Page 14

by Kendra Moreno


  “Are you okay?” His eyes roam over my body, taking in the red skin, the tiny pricks from his claws at my hips, the bruising where he bit me.

  “I’m fine, Pussy Cat.” But I’m not. Not really.

  His eyes say he realizes I’m not fine, but he doesn’t push, perhaps understanding where the panic comes from. Cheshire was right. Everything has changed.

  My mom’s words come back to me, and the words during the intimacy.

  You’ll find your soulmate in someone completely unexpected, in someone you think isn’t right for you. That you’ll almost fight against wanting. That’s how you know.

  Every goddess needs a monster. . . .

  Chapter 30

  We haven’t talked since we got dressed and started walking through the forest again. Cheshire seems to be annoyed by that fact, attempting to say something to me, but I’d only shaken my head. I couldn’t handle the inevitable conversation. I still can’t. I’m not sure what I can say, or if I even want to say it.

  I sneak another glance at him from underneath my eyelashes and end up tripping on another damn root. The tree laughs as I launch forward and slam into the ground. I hit it so hard that I swear I feel my brain rattle, and I snarl at the offending thing.

  “Fucking trees,” I growl as I push myself back up. Cheshire doesn’t step forward to help me, and I don’t expect him to. He just watches me with crossed arms. “How much further until we reach it?”

  I’m fed up with this tension. I’m fed up with this forest. I just want to tell Absalom that we need him and get back to Attie and Mom.

  “We’re here.”

  “What?” I look around. There’s nothing but trees. “Where?”

  Cheshire doesn’t answer. Instead, he points to a large tree, thick with age. For the first time, I notice little holes carved up the side, made specifically for feet and hands.

  “Absalom,” he calls.

  A bit of smoke trickles down from the top and almost seems to beckons us to follow it. I’m sure it actually does, if I go by the other weirdness around Wonderland. Cheshire gestures for me to start climbing, and I oblige him, if only because I don’t want to be on the ground by myself longer than I have to be. I hate this forest with a passion .

  When I get to the top and peer over the edge into a doorway carved from the wood, I crinkle my brow. The inside of the tree is hollow, allowing a spacious area. I heave myself the rest of the way into the room and look around as Cheshire fluidly joins me. Cheshire seems completely at home this high. Me? I move further away from the opening. I’m too close and don’t want to have to worry about falling out.

  The inside is carved from the wood, smooth from years of use rather than it being made that way. The wood is a light color, making the area seem more inviting than the trees outside are. I wonder if this one used to be alive before it was carved, or if it was a regular old tree. It would be absolutely Metal if it used to be alive. I wish I could carve one of the blasted things up.

  Cushions and pillows cover the floor around a table set with a hookah, and I smile in recognition. At least that part of the stories are correct.

  From an open doorway, a woman saunters in, and I crinkle my brow. Her skin is slightly blue, darker blue spots peppering her skin like freckles. Her hair looks like moss, small bugs and creatures threading through the locks. She’s completely naked, strolling in without a care in the world that I can see her junk. I glance at Cheshire in confusion who only seems amused.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “We’re looking for the Caterpillar.”

  Cheshire snorts when the woman glances up at me, a small smile on her face.

  “You found me. I’m the Caterpillar.”

  “What? No, I’m certain Hatter said you were a man.”

  “I was,” she nods, but she doesn’t elaborate. Well, okay then.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen you as a woman,” Cheshire says as she moves around the hollowed-out tree. She grabs a mug of something from the kitchen area and strides back towards us. I try not to notice too hard that her breasts don’t seem to move with the action. As if she hardly moves at all. “It must have been a big purge.”

  “I felt it was time,” Absalom replies. “This is the body most necessary.”

  My eyes drift over towards the hookah for some reason, and I study it, the pull towards it both confusing and intriguing. Something about it calls to me, but I don’t know what.

  “It’s because you’re the third,” Absalom interrupts my thoughts.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why the smoke calls to you. You’re the final piece of the prophecy. Of course, it will call to you.”

  “What exactly is the prophecy?” I ask, taking a step closer. “No one has even told me what it is.”

  Absalom’s eyes flick to Cheshire before quickly meeting my own again.

  “No one has told you the prophecy?”

  “What it’s about, yes. I know that Clara, Jupiter, and I are part of the prophecy. The triad to bring down Alice. Is there more?”

  “Yes. Come, child.” She gestures towards the pillows around the hookah, and I take a seat across from her. “You, too, Cheshire.”

  “I don’t need to see your dancing visions,” he replies, looking away.

  “I need you to sit, Hands of Justice.”

  When Cheshire hears his formal title, he frowns and takes a seat reluctantly. He seems completely uninterested in whatever Absalom is about to show us. Why he’s so stand-offish, I’m not sure.

  Absalom takes a pull from the hookah, longer than necessary if you ask me, before blowing the smoke in between us. It swirls in circles, the rest of the home fading away, growing darker, as I focus on nothing but the smoke. It curls into shapes, three of them women. The other three, I know instantly. One wears a top hat, one has rabbit ears, and one has cat ears and a tail.

  And then Absalom begins to speak, her voice melodic and dancing the same way the smoke shapes do, as if they’re one and the same.

  “The first of three is Clara Bee

  Who will come to set Wonderland free,

  She’ll tame the Hatter and down the Knave

  Because Clara Bee fights for the brave.

  A triad begins to destroy the Queen

  Though nothing is ever easy it seems,

  She must lose her heart while taking a stand

  To the first son of Wonderland.”

  Absalom pauses as the smoke Hatter and one of the women dance around each other and morph into one for a moment before breaking apart, and dancing around in circles.

  “The second comes in the dead of night

  After saving the life of Wonderland’s White,

  She’ll befriend the creatures of the day

  And strip the Red Queen’s immortality away.

  Destined for the second Son of Wonderland,

  She’ll conquer his heart and take his hand,

  The triad will be two strong

  And right the things that have been wronged.”

  Smoke White dances over towards the second smoke woman and scoops her into his arms before dancing away. My eyes focus on the last woman, and the smoke Cheshire who stands a little close, and a little far away at the same time.

  “To complete the triangle, one must ask

  How the third son wears his mask,

  He’ll fight the hold, but best be quick

  Or he’ll lose his chance with each tick, tock, tick.

  The third completes the triad of three

  That will bring about the fall of the Red Queen,

  Stronger together as they take their stand

  To save the Sons of Wonderland.”

  The last two smoke shapes push together, and I watch enraptured as their arms stretch out. Before their fingers can touch, the smoke stirs and fades away, leaving the final part of the prophecy hanging in the air.

  My heart beats a staccato rhythm in my chest as I stare at the spot they used to be, and I replay the entire scene in my
head again, the smoke characters pairing up, meant to be.

  I look over at Cheshire who’s staring at where the smoke was, his face solemn.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper, realizing the gravity of the situation. Yes, I’m the third that helps bring down the Red Queen once and for all. But I’m also prophesied to be with Cheshire.

  Suddenly, our tryst in the woods makes so much more sense, and the pull I’ve felt towards Cheshire since the beginning. His avoidance on the subject becomes so clear. He purposely kept the information away from me, as if it wasn’t important to know.

  I wait for him to answer, his ears lying flat on his head, his tail doing a constant twitch. When he finally turns to look at me, those agonizingly blue eyes crashing with my own, they’re so haunted that it makes my chest squeeze hard. I ache to reach out to him. Instead, I thread my fingers together and will them to stay in my lap.

  “Because it doesn’t matter,” he says, and the words hit me like a slap in the face. “Because no prophecy is going to dictate how I live my life.”

  I school my features, hiding the pain those words cause even though he’s right. I don’t want my life decided by a rhyme from a smoking caterpillar, but even Cheshire must feel the connection we had, even before I knew we were destined for each other. Didn’t he feel it?

  I immediately chase the thoughts away. It doesn’t matter, because Cheshire is obviously not interested in that sort of thing. In my need to take the pain away, my mouth opens before I can stop it.

  “You’re right. I’m taking my mom and Attie back home, anyways. He needs to finish school, and mom needs some normalcy in her last days. It was smart to keep this from me.”

  My voice feels hollow to my own ears, unconvincing even on the best days, but Cheshire buys it. He may pretend there’s nothing here, that the prophecy is wrong, but he knows there’s something. He growls at my words and stands, shoving the pillows around him away. He doesn’t say a word as he moves to the opening and leaps from the tree, away from any talk of prophecies and mates. Because that’s what I am; I’m the Cheshire Cat’s mate.

  Absalom and I watch Cheshire go, staring at the spot where he disappears, before she turns back to me. Carefully, she offers me the mouthpiece of the hookah. I shake my head. I really don’t want to get high off of prophecies today.

  “No, thank you.”

  Absalom shakes her head. “No, child. You’re going to want to see this.”

  I bite my lip before gingerly taking the mouthpiece from her blue hands, studying the intricately carved metal. Small symbols I have no meaning for surround it, the gold gleaming as it catches on what little light is in the room.

  “Will it hurt me?”

  She shakes her head, so I lean forward and place my lips on the mouthpiece. When I pull in, the smell of vanilla and flowers assaults my senses, the smoke filling me. I pop the mouthpiece free, and blow the smoke into the center between us like I’d watched her do. Somehow, I don’t collapse into a coughing fit as the smoke leaves my body. Something about it makes it seem as if it doesn’t even touch my body, more like a tickle than smoking anything.

  The smoke cloud swirls in front of me, twisting and weaving, until it drops to form into shapes.

  Two this time.

  The shape with cat ears scoops the woman shape into his arms and spins around the circle, dancing around to a silent waltz, holding each other close.

  “Child of metal, fire in your soul,

  You’ll take out Alice and save us all.

  Open your heart and love complete,

  The journey won’t be easy, and you’ll know defeat.

  Wonderland asks for everything you have,

  She’ll demand your heart, and that you take the Cat’s mask.

  You must surrender it all to succeed in this war,

  The third, the mate, the chosen liberator.

  Your love will be deep, which will help you succeed,

  Love Justice and Wonderland, but then you must leave.”

  The words feel like they manifest from deep inside me, and even though it’s Absalom that speaks, I feel the words ring in my mind as if they came from my lips instead.

  In front of me, the smoke characters release each other and back away, before the smoke swirls, and they disappear forever. I’m so tense, I can hardly think, and I certainly can’t find my voice for a few minutes. Absalom seems content to remain in silence, watching me in curiosity.

  “Is that true?” I breathe, my eyes meeting hers. I squeeze the material of my jeans between my fingers in an attempt to stop the shaking that starts up. It doesn’t help. I feel as if a chill goes down to my bones. My teeth begin to chatter.

  Absalom nods her head, her lips tugged down into a frown.

  “Wonderland is seldom wrong. In order to defeat Alice, you must commit to Wonderland completely.”

  “And that means opening my heart?” I ask, pained, looking after where Cheshire disappeared.

  “You must accept all of your roles to be successful.” Absalom follows my gaze. “Cheshire is a special part of Wonderland, but he’s been a victim to her, as well.”

  “A victim how?”

  “It’s best he tells you that story,” she answers, blinking pitch-black eyes at me. “But don’t give up on him. You may wish to leave Wonderland, but in order to do so, you have to save it. You have to give her everything.”

  “And then leave it all behind,” I whisper, clutching my chest.

  Tears mist my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Not yet. A savior shouldn’t cry . . .

  . . . No matter how much she may want to.

  Chapter 31

  Cheshire returns hours later, after I had been staring at the wall lost in thought. Dancing smoke people swirled around my mind, and words spoken so deeply they make my chest ache. At some point, Absalom had given me a cup of tea. It only served to remind me how much I miss my mom. She used to make the best sweet iced tea. It’s been years since I’ve had some so I’m not sure why it pops up now, why I’m suddenly plagued by memories and responsibilities. Always haunted by the same things.

  Cheshire doesn’t speak to me. Instead, he lays down on the mats that Absalom set out for us to sleep on and closes his eyes, as if there’s not a whole forest outside, howling, and begging to kill to us. I stare at the ceiling for hours after I lay down, listening to the hissing trees and the distant shrieks. At some point, I finally close my eyes and surrender to sleep.

  I’m standing in a room that looks vaguely like the Hatter’s tea room, but it looks all wrong. Black seeps down the walls, the plants are withered and dead. The table and chairs are missing save for one in the center of the room. It seems to be spotlighted.

  “Something is coming.”

  I whirl, looking for the source of the voice. There’s no one behind me. When I turn back around, a brilliant flash of red draws my eyes to the chairs again.

  “Jupiter,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “What’s going on? Where am I?”

  “There’s no time for that. You need to go,” she urges. She stands from her seat and rushes towards me. “Something is coming for you.”

  “Who?” I meet her eyes, the fear in them causing panic to thread through my chest.

  “I don’t know.” She looks behind her into the darkness. There’s nothing there besides dripping walls. “But it’s bad. I can hold them off, but I don’t know how long my powers can last yet. They’re still new. I can give you a few minutes, tops. But you have to hurry. You’re running out of time.”

  “But where am I?” I look around me in panic. “How do I get out?”

  “You just have to wake up,” Jupiter urges. “Now!”

  And I’m thrown out of the dream.

  I shoot up from the mat, my adrenaline already so high, I practically trip over myself in my haste to slap Cheshire’s shoulder. He springs up, alert, as if he hasn’t just been in a deep sleep. He climbs to his feet with a fluidity I’d attribute to a snake rather than a cat and
looks around, tense, and ready for whatever is coming.

  I scramble to my own feet, far more awkward and so tense that I start to shake with the sheer force of it.

  Absalom sits at the entrance to her home, looking out of the doorway and into the trees. Distantly, I can hear something crashing through the forest, so massive, it sounds like the trunks are being broken and thrown aside. Terror freezes my arms for a moment as the thought of some new threat becomes apparent.

  “It’s time to leave,” Absalom comments, no panic in her voice. She seems so calm, it almost puts me at ease, until I notice a hazy shape of Jupiter standing beside me.

  Her eyes are closed in concentration as she lifts her arms up and out. Slowly, a golden dome begins to drop around us. Cheshire looks at it in confusion, before flicking his eyes at Jupiter.

  “This won’t last long,” he says, scooping me into his arms without a complaint.

  He strides towards the entrance with me cradled in front of him. I thread my arms around his neck, making me feel more comfortable with the position. The golden dome follows us as we move, Jupiter’s ghost staying as close to me as possible. She seems to float, mentally attaching herself to the sphere. I’m so in awe while also freaking out. What the fuck is going on?

  Cheshire leaps from the tree without warning, and we drop to the forest floor. He lands in a crouch, completely unaware that he has the added weight of me in his arms. And then he begins to run in the opposite direction of the crash.

  “You can’t fade?” Jupiter asks through grit teeth.

  “Not until I’m outside of Absalom’s circle.” Cheshire barely seems aware of the golden dome encasing us, protecting us, as he weaves through the trees. Something roars behind us, and I shakily look over Cheshire’s shoulder, afraid of what I’ll find.

 

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