Into the Madness

by A. K. Koonce

  But he doesn’t. No matter how many little touches he passes me, how many curious glances he trails over my body, he won’t cross that line.

  Not with me.

  I kissed him to remind him he was still alive. He’s alive and he has a life worth living. If he can just ignore all the whispers society says about him.

  We’re alike in that way.

  “I kissed you for the same reason you constantly run your hands over my body at every chance you get. I kissed you just because I knew that I could.” His brow lowers, and maybe he doesn’t understand right now, but I know he’ll dissect every single word until it all makes sense.

  I just won’t be here when it does.

  My hand slips from his, and I memorize his startlingly handsome features as I fall back, letting my weight pull me down into the unknown. Cold liquid sloshes over me, hitting my face first and enveloping me like greedy hands pulling me under.

  My eyes clench closed, my body stiffening hard.

  It’s the most peculiar feeling of being present but also being washed away. Dissolved down until every fiber of your being feels like nothingness. It’s the strangest, most terrible feeling.

  Being here one minute and gone the next.

  Twenty-One

  Madison

  I wish I could say the graceful way I’d fallen backward was how I stayed when I found myself deep in the unknown.

  It was not.

  My hands flail through the cold water, tangling myself up in the beautiful layers of my dress like a sheet set out to dry in a fucking windstorm. At some point, my blonde hair wafts over my gaping mouth, and I flail around a little more, using my dress-tangled hands to push it all away like messy hair might be the absolute worst thing that could happen to me right now.

  I float, feeling weighted but also weightless as I descend down into the depths of the mysterious water. My eyes open slowly. It’s the clearest water. Rays of bright, unobtainable light shine down on me from somewhere high overhead. It casts the smooth white sand, the jagged beautiful coral and the few scurrying black and yellow fish into abnormally bright colors.

  It’s all familiar but…not.

  It must be the ocean. It has to be. But it’s an unrealistically perfect vision of the sea. I can’t see the shining ripples of the surface. I’m so far down I can feel the press of the water. And yet, every detail is in crisp color.

  Including the long, thick blue tentacle curling around a very shining lever on the ocean floor. The metallic handle is so out of place, so man-made here among the soft feel of nature. The giant tentacle coiled around the base of it doesn’t look out of place though. That tree trunk of a blue limb looks like it’s been poised leisurely there for centuries.

  Waiting.

  Kais gave me very precise directions on how to get to the lever.

  He seems to have forgotten some minor details about what happens after getting through the dungeon door.

  The body of the monstrous creature is unseen. The long and winding path of its limb leads to a patch of coral and slate gray rocks. Somewhere behind that mound is an angry octopus who’s missing a limb thanks to me.

  I untangle my dress, but it just wafts around me all over again, revealing my legs and reminding me to kick off the useless heels. My lungs ache for air, but it isn’t an urgent thought in my mind. With slow movements, I kick steady, careful inches closer to the beast I know I should fear. The dress is impossible to swim in, but I’m not exactly racing around doing laps either. I take small, quiet, and meager little strokes toward the lever.

  My fist bunches into my gown, forcing it not to touch the tentacle. Keeping myself afloat above the lever while also trying to figure out how to pull it without the creature knowing is an awful situation. I fumble around for a few seconds, pulling and tugging and ultimately getting nowhere.

  It’s not just an awful situation. It’s an impossible task.

  Another pain presses in my chest, my lungs begging for air.

  There’s no visible way out of this.

  The lever is right here.

  I have to do what I set out to do.

  My foot balances onto the soft silt, gently settling down between the loosely coiled tentacle. The long limb looks like a noose from where I stand looking down on it. My ankle is in the snare, seeming just mere inches from being captured.

  I swallow painfully and keep my other leg held up in a sort of flamingo-like stance while I cling to the lever. What will happen when I pull it, surely jostling the creature who’s clinging to the base of this thing?

  I guess I’m going to find out.

  Without a breath in my burning lungs and with the thudding of my heart beating in my ears, I put all my weight into pulling back the handle. It moves the slightest little bit. I feel the iron grinding, and the smallest tilt of the lever encourages me on with so much urgency I slam my other foot down, letting my ankle roll against the curve of the slick limb beneath it.

  Movement slides between my calves. Sand shakes up from the ground, lifting with so much power that it clouds my sight. Harder I pull, needing to finish this now. Right now.

  It doesn’t budge. The metal bites into my palms, but I grip it with both hands and use the big tentacle beneath my bare feet as leverage as I heave back with all my shaking might.

  Tightness strangles around my legs, bringing me down. Stinging pain sears into my skin, but still I cling to that lever. The billowing sand lifts higher around me, blocking out whatever creature is looming behind me, and that is the only upside to this fuck hole of a situation.

  The long blue tentacle abandons the handle, focusing its painful strength solely on me. The air leaves my lungs in one big whoosh as the octopus wraps its grip fully around my torso.

  One of my hands falls away while the other holds on like it’s the only thing I have left keeping me here in this life.

  And then the creature rips me away. The power it puts into tearing me away is exactly what I didn’t realize I needed.

  The lever follows me down, flipping all the way down with me just before my hand slips off of it. The octopus did all the heavy lifting for me.

  And now I’m going to meet my fate.

  Tighter he holds me, crushing the life right out me in the slowest, most torturous way. Pain breaks harder into me, cracking through my body with each passing second.

  Then the sand swirls around, twirling my long hair as my lashes start to flutter. The movement of the water is unnatural and demanding.

  That’s what seems to set him off.

  The creature stiffens. Then its hold on me loosens little by little until it pulls away in one quick jerk. It leaves faster than I can follow. My body falls, drifting down at a leisurely pace just before my face settles against the soft sand. My eyelids blink, heavy and tired, seeing the world in a blur of bright beautiful colors.

  There in front of me is…a drain.

  Sand funnels through it, circling it at a rather rapid speed.

  A shadow bleeds across the white sand. It’s an ominous, terrifying thing that blocks out the light above. But I don’t have the strength to move. My fingers twitch against my palm, urging me to find a motive to swim, to scurry away like the rest of the wildlife here seems to be doing as they pass my limp body by.

  My foot shoves against the base of the lever, and pain shoots through my leg, but I try to push away from the shadow that’s growing closer by the minute. My dress pulls against my body, caught on something, and I don’t move a single inch.

  I wait with my lashes slipping closed, my drilling heartbeat slowing strangely.

  Warm hands press to my hips, alarming my heart rate once again, reminding me that fear is very much still alive within me. He turns me, and my lashes flutter open. Calm spreads through me when I look up into Alixx’s emerald eyes. He pulls me up against him but doesn’t lift me far. My dress tangles around my legs, not giving me any room to move as it strains, caught on something. My attention drifts slowly down, finding the hem of m
y white dress bunched into the base of the lever, jammed there, keeping me in place.

  Alixx pulls hard at the material. The muscles of his biceps flex, but the white fabric doesn’t tear away.

  My lashes flutter once more, almost closing entirely.

  He holds me tightly to his chest, meeting my gaze and making me wonder if I’ll die here on the bottom of the ocean with this beautifully tormented man holding me in his arms.

  Warm fingers trail down my spine, but I feel his touch in every part of my body. The gentle delicious feel of his hands drives out all the pain for just a moment.

  The last thing I remember is Alixx Stone’s fingers searing across every inch of my skin: my ribs, my stomach, hips, and thighs.

  If this is death, maybe I’ve never really lived.

  Twenty-Two

  Kais

  The fucker’s looking at me like he’s won some sort of prize instead of nearly killing the one woman who can fix the world we live in.

  The sickly fond way he holds her against his chest shoots more anger into me. He cradles her in his arms like she’s something he cherishes. I’m careful not to touch him as I pull her nearly naked body away from his disturbing affection. She doesn’t wake.

  But she is breathing.

  And then I see it. From the chest down, every inch of her body is purple and black, bruising deep into her ivory skin.

  “What the fuck did you do to her?”

  “Just took her out. Showed her a good time. The usual,” he says dismissively, crossing one ankle casually over the other as he leans against the side of my house. His dark hair hangs wet and messy across his temple.

  “You touched her. You held her with your bare hands, you fucking lunatic.” I can’t stand the thought of releasing her, letting her fragile body go just to save myself from whatever Rotter-ish plague he’s given her.

  I’ll kill him for hurting her.

  “Unfortunately, that’s not my branding. I didn’t hurt her. You, you fucking hurt her.” He points his finger at me, cocking his head while he continues lounging lazily against my house. “You sent her through a portal when you didn’t even know what was on the other side. So, here’s a thought: The next time you want your dirty work done, do it yourself like a fucking gentleman, Rabbit.” He adjusts his sopping wet tie like he’s the classiest man who ever donned a goddamn saturated suit.

  I pause, holding her cold body to my chest, letting her drench the front of my white t-shirt with her long blonde hair. She nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck, and the energy that shoots straight down to my cock isn’t helping our situation.

  A knowing smirk slashes across Rotter’s lips. “I should leave. It looks like you have your hands full.” His gaze trails down, noting how close my actual hand is to the curve of her ass.

  He brings her back, lifeless in just her bra and panties, and then walks away without an explanation. My teeth grit together hard, distracting the tingling sensation this woman is pressing into my body. Just before I speak, he cuts me off.

  “I’m not a rebel, Kais. I get paid a good salary. I live a…mundane life. I like it that way,” he says as he strolls away with his hands in his pockets. He pauses to make good condescending eye contact. “Don’t put me in the middle of your traitor games again. And if you weren’t such a selfish fuck, you wouldn’t put this girl in the middle either.”

  Rotter turns on the heels of his shining black shoes, but as much as I hate speaking to him, one question must be asked.

  “Did the King see her?” The words are quiet, but he stiffens, stopping in his tracks the moment I say them.

  “No. I guarded the door. I waited. I waited some more. And then I saved your little pet’s life. Vanished her right out of the dungeon. I’d suggest, if you are not accepting New Fake Alices, you take better care of the one you’ve got, Traitor.”

  He strides away, and I know the only reason he doesn’t vanish himself right now is because he wants the pleasure of making a dramatic fucking exit.

  I roll my eyes, hating how much he gets under my skin and hating how fucking right he is.

  Unlike Rotter, I do vanish us. I sweep Madison and me away until I’m standing at my bed, cradling her in my arms and counting her warm breaths that fan against my neck.

  She’s okay.

  She’s soft, fragile, and bruised.

  But she’s okay.

  I lie her down against the old blanket and immediately take off my shirt. I pull it over her head, it’s large around her shoulders. There’s a tear at the hem, but it falls down across her silk bra and panties. It covers her for the most part. A cold chill shakes through her body. The shirt isn’t enough. The smooth length of her long legs trembles against my touch as I maneuver her beneath the warm blanket. She curls in on herself.

  Seeming content. Safe.

  I can’t believe I let this happen to her.

  I have no idea what I sent her into. But I can see now, she’s just as strong as she pretends to be. Resilient and determined.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she really was the savior Profit spoke of all those years ago.

  “Kais?” Her lips barely move to speak my name, and I’m on my knees in front of her in an instant.

  She brings me to my knees that fast.

  I growl orders at her all day, and she fights me every step of the way, but the weakness I feel right now for her is insane. It should be setting off alarm bells of all kinds in my mind.

  But all I can focus on is her needs. Whatever she wants, I’ll do it. I’m the reason she’s hurt. This is my fault.

  “What is it?” I whisper.

  “I did it. I followed orders. For once.” A smile attempts to reach her lips just as her lashes lower, flittering to try to stay open.

  Her words stab guilt right into me. She followed orders. Fuck. For once, I wish she hadn’t. Not like this.

  “Yeah. You did it perfectly.” I try to be proud of her, but I hate myself right now.

  My hand lifts, but I lower it just as quickly, forcing myself to keep my hands to myself.

  Her lashes rise, pinning those pale green eyes on me, sending too many feelings darting through my chest with a single fucking look of her beautiful gaze.

  “It was terrible, Kais.” Unbearable guilt tangles through my stomach harder at the sound of her whispered words. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel it all over again.”

  Fuck, Rotter was more than right. I am a selfish fuck for using her.

  My palm lifts once again, and I carefully cradle her jaw, letting my fingers thread through her hair, pushing it back from her sweet face.

  “I’m sorry, Madison.” My tone is too gruff, raw, a little painful.

  Her hand moves slowly, and I watch it even as she slides her fingers along mine against the side of her face.

  She doesn’t acknowledge my apology, and I know it’s just one of many I’ll say to her.

  She says something else entirely instead.

  “Sleep with me,” she whispers.

  Tension strikes right through me. My lips part, but she speaks again.

  “Make me feel safe. Make me feel—” Whatever else she doesn’t say is quietly cut off, and I find myself hanging on what she doesn’t say.

  What does she want me to make her feel? My blood pulses through my body with the idea of all the dirty things I’ll never make her feel.

  I lick my lips slowly, and before my brain can talk my dick out of it, I’m slipping beneath her covers.

  Stiffly, I lie flat on my back, keeping a precarious inch of space between her soft curves and my body.

  But it doesn’t last.

  A long leg slides over my thigh, slipping between my legs, her core melding to my side just as her head settles against my shoulder. She wraps herself around me like I’m unsuspecting prey. All of my defensive military training goes out the window all because a pretty girl used her body like a weapon.

  If the King acts as fucking stupid as I am right now
, he won’t stand a chance against Madison.

  Long fingers skim over my bare chest, demanding my heart to beat harder just for her. Quiet, even breaths tickle over my skin, and I gently push my palm to a platonic place along her knee.

  She’s at peace. I’ve made her feel safe just like she asked.

  Even if I won’t get a single second of sleep tonight with her pussy pressed hard against me.

  It’s early when I wake. I wake to the amazing feeling of soft hands trailing over every inch of my chest. A low groan hums through me just before I open my eyes to the dark wooden ceiling. For several seconds, I just lie there. As still as possible while her fingertips trace delicate, tormenting lines over my skin. It takes me a second to realize she’s tracing my tattoos, following the path they carve down my chest, my stomach, my hips. When my dick hardens against her inner thigh, her fingers stop abruptly.

  My palm rose sometime in the middle of the night. That platonic place I left it before I fell asleep is not that platonic place I find it when I wake.

  My fingers flex ever so subtly along the curve of her ass and the back of her thigh.

  I should move my hand.

  I should.

  I’m not a fucking idiot.

  I’m just—I’m the worst fucking human being that ever stepped foot into this beautiful realm. I’m a traitor. I am. I can pretend to be the good guy all I want, but I’ll always make reckless decisions that don’t quite follow the rules.

  Like I am right now.

  My palm slides slowly down the back of her thigh before trailing just as slowly right back up. My cock hardens even more when she instinctively rocks her hips against my side, rubbing her thigh against my cock in the best and worst way possible.

  I’m going to fuck this all up.

  I spent every night two feet away from this bed and her. Slept like shit every single night in that chair just to make sure there was a very defined line between her and me.