by A. K. Koonce
“Put me down.”
The moment she says it, I drop her to the ground.
“What the fuck?” She wraps the towel across her, draping it over her nudity and her perfect tits. Of course she has perfect tits. Not blonde hair and perfect tits. It’s a cruel distraction. That’s just not what we need from the One-est One. Her numbers turned red for fuck’s sake.
The King isn’t going to waste time. He’ll want her to be Alice.
Even if it’s glaringly obvious to anyone who speaks to her that she isn’t.
I kneel down, meeting her narrowed green eyes. I’ve waited almost two hundred years in a crumbling Kingdom for an Alice to show up. I have a choice to make: Tell the King that she’s not Alice.
Or…
Use her for a better cause.
She’s not going to like that. Know what women don’t like? Being used. It’s a hard suggestion to wrap your head around for anyone, really. There was a time when it was all I knew though. I was a tool for the military. I was being used in a way. I was something to be used for a greater good.
And now I’m being used once again.
For a rebellion.
If the Elders’ Kingdom, Wonderland, doesn’t accept us, we’ll take it. No one should live like this. But with Alice, there’s a better way. A peaceful way.
We just need an Alice.
“What do you have in your life up on the surface?” I study the emotions that sneak across her face. She’s good at hiding them. Now that the Rosen is in her system, she isn’t nearly as careful with them as she thinks.
A flash of angry sadness pulls at her mouth. My tongue glides across my lips the moment my gaze catches against her pouty mouth. I don’t know what causes that look. Nothing good.
Which, to be honest, is good. For us. Not for her.
“I’m getting a degree. I want to be a designer.”
“Clothes? You want to make clothes?” The harsh tone of my voice makes those pretty eyes glare hard at me. It should be strange how much I like the hateful way she looks at me. It’s the only time I see her real emotions though. I see a fight in her, and that’s strong and sexy. I like seeing that fight.
I lead a lot of people from the surface into Wanderlust. Of all the people I’ve brought, none of them have been as confusingly frustrating as Madison.
“Yes, I want to make clothes.”
“What about your family? Any kids? Husband?” My words are sharp and to the point and piss her sexy lips off even more.
Good.
“No,” she answers quietly. “It’s just me.” A small pause slips in, and then she shows me more of herself than she has the entire time she’s been here. “My mom died a few months ago. It’s just me.”
Those three sad words at the end repeat and repeat and repeat in my mind. It’s sick how happy they make me. There’s nothing better to fuel a rebellion like total fucking loneliness.
That’s really good for us.
Ten
Madison
The clothes he gave me are old. A thin cotton shirt and tattered pants make me wince to even look at them. With an angry yell and more than one or two curse words, he ran off the rebellious partygoers. And now we’re alone.
The memory of me straddling Lighton’s cock is seared into my mind, and I cannot believe I did that. What was wrong with me?
And why, within a matter of twenty-four hours, have I been pressed against two men’s cocks and not had sex? Is it broken? Is my vagina broken? Soon she’ll spend her days sitting on an old dusty shelf, remembering her sad glory days of all the men who tried to grind her gears and failed. When all along all she was missing was one good screw.
I sigh a pitiful sound at the memoir I’m painting of the Little Vagina that Couldn’t.
My throat clears when I look up at the serious man staring down on me.
I shift under his disappointed gaze.
His bedroom feels smaller with me sitting at the edge of the mattress and him lingering near the stairs. A blanket of mismatched colors is tucked in tightly to the small mattress, and all I can think about is how I haven’t made my bed a single time this year.
What is the point? Really? It seems like the most monotonous task. What a waste of four minutes. And trust me, coming from a girl who’s suffered at the hands of Jared Porter, I know a wasted four minutes when I see it.
My gaze catches my reflection in the warped mirror on the wall near the end of the bed. The dim lighting shines against it, and the woman who stares back at me startles me. My breath catches as my reflection shows my big green eyes. My hands push through my thick red hair. I move a little closer to it and look for the dark circles under my eyes.
But they’re not there.
My skin tone is flawless. My throat constricts, and I push once more to the back of my head, searching out the small bald patch I’d found just this morning.
But it’s gone.
Only glossy hair meets my fingertips. My hair hasn’t been this thick and beautiful in years. Silky strands fist through my fingertips over and over again as I stare in wonder.
“What?” I whisper the word, but I can’t bring myself to say anything else.
“What’s wrong?”
I blink at my reflection even as I feel his gaze against my skin.
Am I…cured? I try to think through the stories of Wonderland that I remember, but I don’t ever recall Wonderland healing anyone.
I don’t remember a Kingdom called Wanderlust there either, so maybe I can’t rely too heavily on the storybook.
At the same time, I can’t help but let the hope in my chest bloom. I can feel it. I felt stronger the moment I landed in a heap on the sandy shore of that Island.
I shake the thoughts from my head. I don’t want him to know I’m sick. Was? Was sick? Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t want my old life to carry into this place. If I truly am healed, I don’t ever want to be that Sick Girl again.
I swallow down the thick feelings rising in my chest.
His attention is still searing across my skin.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I don’t look up at him as I push my fingers through the few holes lining the hem of my white shirt.
I’m making new clothes first thing tomorrow morning. Maybe I’ll make a few extras for the rebels who were here tonight. I could hand them out like non-party favors at the next one of Brody and Lighton’s non-parties.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to consider it. And then never ever speak of it again.” His arms fold across his broad chest, making the inky lines around his biceps bulge with the intimidating stance.
I fold my arms as well but don’t reply.
“Never,” he repeats sternly as he tilts his head down to meet my gaze.
What is with this guy? Can he do anything without being Captain WonderPrick? Why is my hero such an ass?
“Okay.” I stretch the word out for him until he nods happily.
“I want you to pretend to be Alice.”
“So you agree that I’m not.”
He nods slowly, never taking his eyes off of me.
“I think you want to stay here. And I think you and I can help one another.” His rumbling voice is quiet and rasping. Alluring when he isn’t angry. Beautiful even.
“What do you want from me, Kais?” When I lift my gaze to meet his, he trails over my features carefully. I see him. I see him studying every little thing, even if he thinks he’s being discreet.
My eyes roll when he continues to watch me.
“I want you to be Alice.”
“And what about when the real Alice shows up?”
“Could take decades. I need you now.”
I need you.
I shift against the little bed until it squeaks at my constant movements.
“If they accept you as Alice, they’ll try to mend the peace between the two Kingdoms. Alice is the final puzzle piece. An Elder made all of this possible. Someone wanted Alice to be here. Ki
ng Constantine won’t contact the Elders’ Kingdom until she’s arrived. He wants her. He’s obsessed with the thought of her.”
“You want me to marry some dude who’s obsessed with me. Sounds creepy. And dangerous.”
“I want you to set the ball into motion. He needs to take care of this city, or they will rebel and it won’t be good for anyone. You have the ability to stop a war. The people here need you. They need an Alice.”
My throat tightens. It’s weird, but he didn’t really have to argue too hard. This place is healing me. I can feel it. I’d stay no matter what he asks me to do.
My gaze collides with the most hopeful blue eyes. They’re filled with pleading emotions, and my heart sinks every time Kais shows me something real.
“Then, I guess I’m your Alice, Kais.”
The smallest of smiles pulls at one side of his full lips. He settles into the arm chair near the bed, our knees meeting, almost touching as he leans back in the seat. “Get some sleep then. We leave to meet with King Constantine in exactly four hours. We can’t be late.”
His head tips back against the gray chair. It’s cushioned, patched with black cloth in a few places with a high headrest, intricate wooden armrests that shine in the dim lighting. It’s nice, but it’s parlor furniture, really. It doesn’t look at all comfortable.
“Is that where you’re sleeping?” I shift uneasily on the small bed that I know is his.
“Well this Un-Alice dropped in a few hours ago, and as you and I both know, Alice is destined to be the Queen of Lust. Can’t have a Lusty Queen sleeping on the floor.”
My eyes close, and he’s terrible at teasing, but I do know teasing when I hear it.
Why did I call myself the Porno Queen of Lust out loud?
But I am a Queen.
“Queen Madison Torrent. I like it.” I shimmy up the bed and slip beneath the blanket as I watch him shake his head slowly at me.
“Queen Madison Torrent will never live in this world, Prospect.” His voice is low and regretful. It tingles across my skin until I shiver as my stomach twists tightly from the sound of his words. “You’re the future Queen of Wanderlust. A false queen but a queen all the same. Queen Alice Liddell.”
A soft pillow caresses my new healthy hair, and I think about his words for over an hour. I dwell on what I’ll have to do tomorrow for so long the morning sunlight starts to peek in through the white curtains. Tomorrow I’ll start my path as a traitor to the throne. If anyone finds out what Kais and I are plotting, I’ll be hung, cut into quarters, beheaded. Whatever it is royals like to do to traitors like me. Even with all that hanging in the balance, all I can think of is one thing:
I’m Madison Torrent, False Queen of Wanderlust.
Eleven
Madison
The matted and muddy hair is tossed in my face first thing in the morning. It’s a very charming wake up call to say the least. My fingers fist into the coarse, dry strands of the wig, and I shove it away like it might infect my beautiful new hair just by touching it.
“You’ll need to comb through it a bit before we leave this morning.” Kais stands expectantly over me, his handsome but stern face is the first thing I see.
Until I roll over and pull the pillow over my head to block out the golden morning sunlight.
“Nope,” he says. The pillow is ripped away, and I can either shield my eyes with the destroyed wig or be an adult and roll my ass out of the warmth of this bed.
Option three: I pull the blanket up and snuggle down into it like a hamster burrowing into a nest.
It too is ripped away. The air is colder now, chilling against my skin as I curl into myself.
“What time is it?” I mumble, curling up tighter as if sleep is still a silver lining possibility.
“It’s three minutes after we were supposed to leave. Get up.”
“Mmm, let her sleep. She’s sexy all curled up.” The bed dips at the sound of his smooth voice. A voice like sex itself. Lighton’s low rumbling tone hums through me, bringing my body to life. And that, that is what wakes me up.
I turn until I’m flat on my back again. Honey-colored eyes stare down on me through a hooded gaze. The memory of me wrapped in his arms last night, our bodies slick and hot against one another, flashes through my mind. A blush creeps up my cheeks before I can swallow the memory back down.
“Good morning, sunshine.” That rasping tone of his voice and the low lidded appearance of his gaze are sexy, but I can’t help but wonder how much he’s drunk this morning. A manic smile pulls against his lips, revealing perfect white teeth. The smile only adds to my original thought.
A part of me aches to know why he’s trashed at six in the morning. What dark shadow is cast over his life to make him so adamant at blocking it out first thing? Lighton is beautiful, the appearance of perfection, but there’s something beneath the surface he isn’t showing. Something he seems to want to forget.
And I want to know what it is.
I push slowly up until my back hits the headboard.
“I said we’re late,” Kais growls the words out. “Throw the human mane on and let’s go.” He folds his arms with heavy impatience.
“I can’t wear this wig, it’s destroyed.” My fingers trace over the tangled locks, the torn netting and the broken clip in the back.
I look up in time to see the tic in Kais’s jaw as he appears to bite back whatever words are lashing through his mind.
“Have patience, Rabbit. Don’t you know that things are good to those who cum?” Lighton specifically says that last word with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and it only makes Kais glare harder at his friend.
“You mean good things come to those who wait.” Kais’s lips barely move as he speaks through clenched teeth.
“No. I think you’re wrong with that one.” Lighton turns to face me once again, ignoring the way Kais shakes his head in annoyance. He reaches for me, his manic eyes sweeping over my features. Long fingers push back my hair. It’s the gentlest touch that locks up my muscles from his closeness. I relax the moment his fingers thread through one side of my hair. My chin tips up, and he holds my gaze as he comes closer. He kneels, towering over me as he touches me so softly.
And then roughly.
His fist tightens in my silky locks just as his Adam’s apple bobs, his gaze sparking with a look that’s a mixture of lust and lucid concentration. His head lowers and his hand pulls down, arching my neck until I meet his stare. A second passes as his lips ghost over mine, his gaze searching back and forth.
“Perfect pain. Perfect pleasure,” he whispers hypnotically against my lips.
My breath catches from the feel of his strange words against my tongue. A smile tips the corner of his mouth. And then he pulls away. I’m left blinking up at the alluring man and his constantly odd behavior.
“Was that really necessary?” Kais passes a new glare toward the man kneeling at my side.
“Well, I got the job done. All you did was growl about it.” Lighton’s smug amusement doesn’t falter, and the moment I glance down, he leaps.
The bed jostles beneath his weight, and his hands grip the rafters above. His lean body tenses, the muscles in his arms bulging as he lifts himself up to sit on the dusty old beam above me. It distracts me but only for a second, and then I’m looking down at the pale blonde locks in my fingertips once again.
What the fuck did his perfect pain, perfect pleasure do to me? My fingers twist through the soft blonde hair, but it is most definitely attached to my head. I sit up abruptly, stare into the mirror and come face to face with the green-eyed, blonde haired woman that I apparently am.
“What the fuck, Lighton?” My words come out on a quiet, astounded breath.
“You are welcome,” he whispers, staring blankly out the window at something only he can see.
“You can’t be a false Alice with red hair. You must be blonde.” Kais shakes his head as if he’s only ever disappointed in life.
He is good at it. He’s r
eally good at being a disappointed asshole.
He’s also right. If I’m going to do this, I’ll have to do it right.
“What else is expected of Alice?” I finally ask.
Kais looks up to the man perched above us. Lighton arches an eyebrow at him, and the two exchange a look as if they’ve hidden a thousand secrets away among the silence they share between them.
“She’s kind but fierce,” Kais tells me. “Smart. And…” His voice trails off, and I’m leaning closer the longer the moment passes without the last little thing on my to do list.
“And?”
Kais doesn’t look at me, his big tattooed arms folded firmly in place even as he avoids my stare.
“And she’s a virgin,” Lighton adds with a dirty smile against his lips.
“What? Why does that matter?” I can’t help the defensive sound of my voice, but seriously, why the hell is this even in the legend of Alice Liddell right now? What old man was sitting around jotting down Alice qualifications and double underlined her sexual experience? Or extreme lack thereof.
I’m partly furious that they’d never include this if Alice was an Alec, and I’m also partly furious…because I am in fact a virgin.
But that is not the point!
The point is it shouldn’t matter if I’ve slept with zero men or a whole football team of men. My mind pauses a bit too long on that visual, and then I realize they’re both staring at me.
“Are you a virgin?” Lighton asks the question slowly. He looks like he’s about to devour me whole right now.
“Why would you ask that? I don’t understand what value this holds for our plan.” My voice gets higher and higher with every line that rambles out of my mouth. “I’m going to pretend to be Alice, I’m going to marry the King, and I’m going to save two Kingdoms. That’s the goal here. My cupcake and the details of how often it gets its icing whipped is none of your business,” I shriek the last line out on a trembling voice.
