I laugh as she moves to hug Attie, and Clara takes her place.
“You’ll always be a part of Wonderland even if you don’t stay here,” Clara says, hugging me tight. “Come back when you’re ready.”
I glance over at Attie, a smile on my face. “Maybe. When Attie has had a chance to live, maybe we could.”
Doe and Flam hug us next, the Flamingo ruffling my brother’s hair affectionately. “See you around, Berserker,” he teases.
The Hatter nods at me solemnly, his arm wrapped tight around Clara while she blinks back tears. I look away fast, so that I don’t do the same.
White smiles sadly when we turn to him and stare into the swirling portal. “All you have to do is step inside, and you’ll come back inside your mechanic shop.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “For everything.”
“I’m sorry about bringing you in the beginning.”
“No,” I shake my head. “It’s okay.”
“Are you ready?”
I turn and look over the crowd one last time, searching for electric blue, or for that familiar grin. Nothing. He’s not here, and there’s no more time. I clench my jaw hard and turn back around, facing White.
“Ready.”
Attie squeezes my hand hard, just as anxious as I am, and I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the journey ahead. Things will always be different, our lives forever changed, all because of a Hatter, a White Rabbit, and a Cheshire Cat. How will we ever manage normal again? We won’t, but we’ll have to.
We take a step forward, the portal starting to drag at us, preparing to pull us inside. I close my eyes, readying myself. Attie stands beside me, our fingers threaded, my rock. Everything is going to be okay. It has to be.
I go to take another step forward, to move inside the portal, when movement comes from my right, and a hand slips into my free one. I smile, turning towards a Cheshire grin, my heart flipping inside my chest. My eyes mist as I take in his leather jacket, those amazing ears, those electric eyes.
“You came,” I whisper, my voice almost a croak.
“Didn’t think I’d let you get off that easy now, did you?”
I laugh, and Attie whoops beside me.
“Come on, you’re late,” White says, gesturing for us to continue through the portal.
“Late for what?” I don’t even glance at White as I speak.
“Who knows?” he grumbles. “Just hurry up.”
I laugh, and as one, we step forward.
When the swirling white and green lights pulls us in, I can’t help but think that fate is a funny thing. Sometimes, we fight so hard against it, thinking we know better. Yet, every now and then, right in the middle of the worst times, Fate hands you a Cheshire Cat and encourages you to love him madly.
I’m mad. You’re mad.
We’re all mad here.
And Wonderland will never be the same. . . .
Epilogue
Clara
“What does an Empress of Wonderland do?” I ask, looking around at the table. We’re sitting in the empty tea room, planning for the future. The only problem is, I don’t know how to plan at all. If only Absalom hadn’t perished in the war.
Flam and Doe sit on one side of us, Jupiter and White on the other. Hatter watches me as I speak.
“Rule,” Flam answers, shrugging his shoulder. “Decide disputes. Protect the land and her creatures.”
“That all sounds very easy when you say it, but I doubt it is.” I sigh, rubbing my temple. I never thought I would be in this position, but at least I have people to help me.
“I expect every one of you to be on my council. I can’t do this alone,” I chide.
They all smile in response and nod their head.
Jupiter fidgets in her seat. “Do I get a fancy title? Cause that would be awesome!”
“You can have whatever title you want.”
She thinks about it for a second, a bright smile on her face. “Chief Geek to the Empress.”
We all laugh at that, and for a moment, I allow myself to relax. We did it. We won the war. Almost as if sensing I’m relaxing, a letter appears in midair in front of our faces and drops on the table. That’s a first. I jerk as it gives off a little poof and watch as Hatter grabs it and rolls it open. His eyes scan the delicate writing, reading each line.
He stands suddenly, panic on his face. “There’s trouble.”
“Where?” I ask. “Is it someone else in Wonderland?”
“No. It’s not Wonderland.” His eyes scan the letter again, reading the words there.
“Then where is it?” Jupiter asks, leaning in.
“Someone fetch March.” Flam jumps up at Hatter’s words and nods his head, before rushing from the room.
“Where are we going now?” I sigh in exasperation. Seriously, we barely finished the last war.
“We need the fourth Son.” Hatter’s words ring in the room for a moment, and I frown even as he mutters “bloody pirates” under his breath.
“Forth?”
Hatter turns to look at me. When he speaks, his words echo in the room.
“One is dead. Two is begotten. Three is alone, and Four is forgotten.”
That fucking rhyme. “But what does that mean?” I feel like I’m just asking question after question. I need a clear answer. I’m so sick of guessing what the mad ramblings of the March Hare mean.
“When Wonderland is called forth to defend,
and someone needs to protect her,
she will choose another Son.
She’ll choose another Berserker.”
His words ring with the notes of prophecy, of a long ago decision made by Wonderland. I tense.
“No,” I growl. “No. Cal will never allow it.”
“It’s too late.” Hatter rips his top hat from his head. “It’s too late. The Fourth Son has already been chosen.”
And suddenly, March is somehow in front of us. I shriek when he appears out of thin air, completely whole, not a single sign of rot on him. And he’s out of his cabin. What the actual hell is going on?
“You rang?” he giggles, dusting off his coat.
I’m so tense, I don’t know what to do except to stand and lift my chin. No. No, no, no. Not again. Cal and Cheshire deserve their happiness. They don’t deserve this shit.
“Prepare,” Hatter orders, his eyes meeting each of our own. I hold my breath for his next words, knowing they will change everything. Our battle is over, but another will begin. I can feel it.
“Who calls for our help? Who calls for the Berserker?” March asks, a grin on his face.
The Hatter pulls his sword and meets my eyes, his madness dancing just underneath. When he speaks, my heart shrivels in my chest.
“Neverland,” he whispers. “The Daughters of Neverland are in turmoil.”
THE END . . . OR IS IT?
Riddle for glimpse of Spin off:
Every fairy tale has a twist.
You can think of it as you may.
Beasts and darkness await you.
Please enjoy your stay.
You're doomed upon the water,
you're doomed when you're on land,
take care if you're in the skies.
Be careful where you stand.
A new chapter has begun.
Open a new door and be a Darling.
Pick the second star to the right,
And fly straight on until morning.
Acknowledgments
Without the support of my awesome husband, none of this would be possible. He keeps me excited every day and never hesitates to listen to me go on an on about my crazy ideas. My son is the reason I get up every day and write. One day, I hope to write something that I can read to him.
Thank you to my awesome ladies from the three-way. Katie Knight and Poppy Woods, how did I ever live without you? Seriously. I can’t even remember what it was like before I met y’all and I hope I don’t have to ever know again. I can’t wait for what this year a
nd many more have in store for us.
Thank you to the amazing readers and authors who make me smile every day. In particular, I would like to thank Jocelyn Sanchez, Claudia Coenen, Kit Tee, Adam Tennant, and all the members of my Street Team. I would also like to thank Nicole JeRee for not only being a great friend, but for, also, making my books always look so great. Thank you to my ARC readers, Beta Readers, and anyone else who has a hand in this book.
Thank you to Michelle Hoffman for always doing amazing edits. Thank you to Ruxandra Tudorica of Methyss Design for always taking my vision and making an amazing cover. Not only do I consider you a friend, but by some level of sorcery, you make these amazing covers that capture exactly what I hope.
Thank you to Mallory Kent for being an amazing unicorn of a PA. You’re exactly what I need and I’m even luckier to call you friend. Thank you for being the first to be sacrificed by the three-way.
Finally, thank you to everyone who has taken a chance and read the Sons of Wonderland series. Without y’all taking that chance, this final book would have never been possible. Thank you for jumping down a rabbit hole with me and embracing the Sons and the Triad. I can’t think of a better bunch of people than my readers. Y’all are my tribe. After all, we’re all mad here. I’m excited to start the next adventure with you. See you in Neverland!
Stay Mad, Wonderlanders.
About the Author
Kendra Moreno was born and raised in Texas where, if the locusts don’t drive you mad, the fire ants and sticker burrs will. Iced tea, or aptly called straight sugar, fuels her for battling the forces of evil and washing the never-ending dishes her son dirties. She has one husband who listens to her spin tall tales constantly without fail. Although he doesn’t always know what she’s talking about, he supports her better than grandma’s girdle. Kendra has one son who will one day read her stories. For now she’s teaching him that books are meant to be cherished and not destroyed. Her three Hellhounds keep her company while she writes. If she isn’t writing, you can usually find Kendra elbows deep in anything from paint to cookie dough.
If you’d like to have a place to discuss the book with other fans, head over to Kendra’s facebook group where you can get updates on her work before anyone else.
You can also reach her on her website:
kendramorenoauthor.com
Also by Kendra Moreno
Sons of Wonderland:
Mad as a Hatter
Late as a Rabbit
Feral as a Cat
Anthologies:
Cupid’s Playthings:
Supernova
At World’s End: An Apocalypse Anthology:
Wings of Rage
Falling For Them Anthology Vol. 4:
Four Parts Super
Steampunk Reverse Harem:
Clockwork Butterfly
Continue on for a preview of Clockwork Butterfly…
Clockwork Butterfly
Available now on Kindle Unlimited
Chapter One
“That’s it, little machine. There you are.”
Vic stared at the tiny mechanical creature on the workbench in front of her, concentrating hard as she tinkered with the small gears. She had been working on the project for days, a distraction from her father’s anxiousness and her own excitement. Word still had not come of the news they have been waiting years to hear. Vic did not have the patience for such things.
Her cat, Gear, lay on the workbench beside her, watching with fascination as the butterfly wings flapped with the movement of the cogs. The soft grind of his own gears, those that made up his hind quarters, filled the small workroom. Vic had found him as a kitten, brutally beaten by some miscreants who had run the moment she had stormed into the alley. Steam had risen behind her, lending to the demon image they no doubt pegged her with. It added to the terrifying sight she had surely made, a woman dressed in trousers and a tunic, a pair of spectacle goggles on her head, grease smeared across her face. The puffs of steam that regularly came from her leg certainly helped. Vic was an odd woman for her time, raised around machines and preferring them to the boring social nuances of other human beings. Gear had become her companion after she had nursed him back to health. His hind legs had been mangled beyond repair, so she had built him new ones. The fact that they both had prosthetic limbs drew them closer, similarities and all that.
Gear purred when Vic reached over and scratched him under the chin, happy to steal some of her affection from the machine sitting under the magnifying glass. The newest tinker was a machine smaller than Vic had yet accomplished, a mechanical butterfly. As she wound the gears tight and leaned back, she held her breath expectantly. The tiny, stained glass wings began to flap, gently at first before speeding up as the apparatus began to run.
“We did it, Gear!” Vic exclaimed, lifting her goggles onto her forehead.
She pushed the magnifying glass out of the way and watched in excitement as the butterfly’s wings flapped faster before rising into the air, the wings mimicking those of the real insects. The wings had taken some ingenuity. At first, she tried a fine layer of silk but found they were too porous. Eventually, she had found her answer in a micro-thin layer of stained glass. The result was a dazzling display of multicolored beauty, closer to a butterfly than she could have ever hoped.
Gear sat up and watched, enraptured with the moving parts. The butterfly took off into the air, and Vic clapped happily. The tiny machine fluttered around the room, sending glittering colors around the walls when they caught the light. It moved closer to Gear, clicking, teasing. Gear’s tail whipped from side to side as he glared at the offending thing, agitated instantly at its incessant fluttering. Before Vic had enough time to truly celebrate the tinkering feat she had pulled off, Gear reached out his paw and batted the machine from the air. It immediately stopped fluttering and fell straight to the floor with a tiny clank.
“Oh no! Gear, what have you done?” Vic chided, squatting down and scooping up the butterfly. One wing tried to move again, but some of the pieces in the mechanisms were bent at wrong angles. She sighed, placing it back on the workbench. “Naughty Kitty.” Gear just meowed in pride before laying back down, keeping a close eye on the machine in case it took off again. “This is going to take ages to repair.”
Vic was just beginning to straighten out one of the cogs, the smell of grease and lubricant strong in her nose, when the door to her workshop burst open, startling her and making her drop the tool she had been holding. Her father rushed into the shop, tension across his shoulders. At first, she thought he might be upset or angry with something she had done or forgotten to do, so she immediately attempted to smooth things over.
“Father, I haven’t been in here that long, I swear.”
He waved her words away, a bright smile crossing his face.
“Both you and I know that you have been in this workshop since the moment you rose this morning, but that is not why I am here.”
“It’s not?” Vic asked dubiously. Her father was constantly trying to convince her to mingle with other people. He thought it was good for her social skills, and though he was not adamant that she act like a lady, he wanted her to have every opportunity if she so chose. In reality, social events made her feel like a bumbling fool when the other ladies looked down their noses at her, commenting on the state of her hair or her lack of petticoat. Dresses were not a favorite of hers, and so each moment wearing one made her feel terribly uncomfortable. The men were worse, coming up and asking her to dance every five minutes. She wanted to have a conversation, not waltz and listen to the men drone on and on about their accomplishments or assets. She particularly did not like having her feet stepped on. A lot of men were terrible dancers. One day, Vic hoped she could tell a man about her accomplishments, and he would actually listen with interest. Alas, she seemed doomed to end up a spinster. She did not mind so much. She would always have her machines. But her father would think it his fault if she did not join society as their station dictated, bein
g the child of Lady Jenica. He had felt guilty a lot since her mother died, as if he was failing to give her the opportunities their station afforded them.
“No, my dear! I have received a letter!”
“A letter from who?” she asked, her own excitement growing with the obvious emotion leaking from her father.
“The High Council of Sciences and Exploration!”
Vic jumped from her seat,
“Well? What does it say?” She held her breath.
Her father stood there for a moment, letting the anticipation grow before he finally spoke.
“We have been fully funded!”
“No!” Vic laughed. “You are jesting.”
“I swear it! Read for yourself.” Her father passed the letter into her hands, and she scanned the document.
“That is the Queen’s seal,” she whispered.
“That it is.”
“What does this all mean then? You are leaving?”
Vic was sad she would not get to see her father, but this had been his dream since she could remember. He had been fighting his entire life to get funding for an expedition to the Amazon rainforests where there were legends of a temple, the Temple of the Rising Sun. Those legends spoke of a great fire opal protected inside, potent enough to act as a power source capable of fueling dozens of cities at once. This was her father’s moment, his dream come true. She would not hold him back.
“This means we are both leaving.”
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