The Mad King (The Dark Kings)

by Jovee Winters

  Moving her hands in a tugging motion, she beckoned some of the delicate magic to her. It flitted in on the breeze like the glimmering, golden trail of a fairy’s flight, circling her body in a swirling motion of light.

  Wanting to impress him, she made the magic twine through her hair, twisting it into an intricate braid that hung long and heavy down her back, making her widow’s peak stand out in bold relief. For whatever reason, her mate loved that crazy peak of hers.

  The dress that formed upon her was tight at the bodice, cinched at the waist, and fell in jagged strips around her knees like a moth’s shredded wing. Not sure which color to make it, she shifted between many different ones until she finally settled on a rich blood red. And just to add to the madness of the ensemble, she painted several black teardrops beneath her eyes, making them gleam like obsidian in flame.

  He sucked in a sharp breath at her transformation before clearing his throat.

  Knowing she’d done well, she straightened her shoulders, holding her head high. “Where to, lover?”

  With one final heated look, as if he regretted asking her to dress because now all he wanted to do was strip her out of the clothing she’d worked so hard to design, he jerked his finger. “Follow me.”

  Memories floated to her like bubbles as she remembered the first time she’d followed him through Wonderland. Things had been very different then.

  Blue slate tiles suddenly floated to the surface of the endless sea as she followed behind him.

  “Where are you taking me, Hatter?” she asked again, curiosity beginning to drive her mad.

  “It’s a surprise.” His voice sang.

  Pouting only a little, because she couldn’t deny that the excitement of this mystery was beginning to mount, she decided to tease him instead. “Well, if you were going to make me follow you all about this crazy realm, you could have at least been naked. You’re a pillar of water—why do you need to wear pants and coattails?”

  His laughter was rich velvet and made her want to purr like a kitten playing in a bed of catnip. Ahead of them, a Gothic, wrought iron door loomed. Knowing his propensity for travel through an endless tunnel of doorways, she paused.

  As if sensing that she’d stilled, he turned to her. The way the sun refracted off his smooth, glassy features, it cast him in a rainbow of color.

  “Hatter, you’ll be the death of me,” she growled, digging her fingers into the crushed fabric of her skirt, but only because she wanted to pull him back into her embrace and finish what they’d started. It was crazy how crazy he made her. It made no sense, but then again, very little did in this topsy-turvy world.

  His grin was large, cutting a path across his handsome features and making her heart stutter in her chest. “Do you not enjoy my games, Alice? Do we not have fun?”

  That deep voice of his never failing to elicit a sigh from her, she nodded. “I think I would walk into a nest of snakes for you, just to see you smile like that.”

  Walking back to her, bringing his sharp scent of frost with him, he trailed his knuckles along her cheeks, making her knees weak. “But I do, Alice. Anytime I’m with you.”

  Pretending to be annoyed but secretly thrilled, she simply twisted her lips and swished her hand out in front of her regally. “Lead on, O maddening one.”

  “But we’re here.” The secret smile played about his eyes again.

  The door that’d loomed only seconds ago was now standing sentinel before her, tall and dark and imposing.

  Narrowing her eyes, she wiped nervous palms down the front of her skirt. “This isn’t going to lead to nowhere this time? Or a tunnel full of squeaking, chirping mice? Because, I don’t honestly think I could take that type of ‘fun’ again.”

  He laughed, the sound rich and decadent. “Trust me, Alice, my little Alice. Would I lead you astray?”

  His tone was sincere, and though he’d said it with laughter, she knew he was serious.

  “No, Hatter. No, you wouldn’t.”

  “Then take my hand and let me show you my greatest treasure.”

  It took half a second before she was slipping her hand onto his glassy palm. Now the water wasn’t as cold; it was temperate like the shores of Hawaii. The moment she thought that, the breeze turned hibiscus scented and she inhaled deeply, immediately washed with a sense of home.

  Smiling, she nodded and turned the bronze-plated antique knob. For a second she expected it to honk at her the way the doors had at Alice in the movies, but it was just a simple knob.

  The land, however, that spread out before her the moment she stepped through was far from simple. It was a feat of wonder. Where before there’d been an endless expanse of water, she was now in a tropical oasis. But it was not like any island she’d ever seen.

  Colorful hibiscus flowers beckoned her with their lush scent. Bushes and bushes of them grew up around her, almost like a maze of greenery and yellow, orange, pink, and white.

  But these flowers didn’t talk back like the ones outside her and Hatter’s home. Releasing his hand, she walked to the bush, wondering if perhaps this was his treasure.

  “Hatter, is it the flower garden?”

  She’d seen many gardens in her time with him. Some were gardens made of cakes and cookies, the air redolent with the scent of cinnamon and sugar. Others were animal topiaries that pranced and waddled and quacked back at them. Apart from the fact that these flowers were as wide as her face, they seemed pretty mundane.

  Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder. But her water man was gone. There wasn’t even a trace of wet on the plush, velvety carpet of grass beneath her feet.

  Shrugging because he’d show back up soon, she turned back to inspect the flowers, trying to figure out just what made them so special.

  That was when she noticed one quivering.

  “Curiouser and curiouser...” She giggled at her unintentional homage to the literary character she’d unconsciously emulated her whole mortal life.

  Maybe there was a giant hookah-huffing caterpillar waiting behind the bush and that was what was causing the flower to quiver. But when she gently pushed the flower aside, she saw nothing but leaves and branches.

  “Hatter? Is this your treasure?” she asked again, knowing he could hear her.

  Still no answer.

  Then she jumped back when the flower crawled off the bush and shook itself like a dog. Startled, she yelped, covering her mouth as first a few, then hundreds of flowers, began to do the same thing.

  And what she’d first assumed to be stamens began to wiggle like little stameny worms. Smiling broadly, she watched as the flowers, which weren’t really flowers at all, began to blossom before her eyes. The petals opened and then split down the center, and that’s when she realized the petals were actually wings. Hundreds of black, beady little eyes blinked in unison, and then the creatures took flight, becoming a towering funnel of brilliant color, sliding into the azure sky on graceful wings.

  “This is not my treasure.” Hatter’s deep voice caressed the shell of her ear.

  Sighing, she sank into his chest, frowning slightly when she felt his weight give way beneath her. Twirling on her heel, she was amazed anew at his ability to recreate himself.

  This time Hatter wasn’t water but a tower of tightly packed flowers. When his mouth opened, it wasn’t lips but rose petals that spoke back to her. His scent overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t help but inhale him deeply. It was masculine and flowery all at once, a very heady and unusual combination.

  Trailing her finger down the satiny smoothness of his petaled skin, she shrugged. “Hmm... You are a surprise, dear.”

  His rosebud nose quivered as if he was silently laughing before he grasped her hand within his own.

  She couldn’t stop tracing the velvety softness of his knuckle as she asked, “Then if this isn’t your treasure, what is?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  Now that the hibiscus butterflies had flown away, there was nothing but greenery all aro
und. Hatter stuck out like a sore thumb; it was oddly beautiful to her. He was such a strange man, yet she could never imagine her life without him. Nothing would have ever made sense.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” he said before a penny winked to existence before her eyes.

  Snatching it from the air, she cupped the warm metal in her palm, and suddenly an idea sprouted. “You created this garden for me, didn’t you? To remind me of home.”

  His smile was large, revealing the white rose petals of his teeth. “Do you like it?”

  It was amazing to her how well he could formulate his thoughts now. When she’d first met him, it’d been difficult trying to decipher the madness of his words. But the more she was with him, the less Hatter depended on poems and sonnets to verbalize emotion.

  Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she dragged his earthy, delicious scent deep into her lungs and kissed the peach fuzz of his face. “I love it. Thank you.”

  Patting the back of her head, he pointed and there was another door. “We’re almost there. Are you hungry?”

  His question was odd, but she realized the moment he asked it that she actually was. Her stomach took that moment to growl loudly, causing her intestines to cramp up. Grabbing herself, she nodded. “Now that you mention it, I am a little.”

  “Open the door, Alice,” he commanded.

  And she did.

  Immediately his scent of flowers disappeared and she held nothing but air. But she wasn’t sad because the sight looming before her awakened a hunger she hadn’t felt in ages.

  She stood upon the very tip of a frosting mountain. The combined smells of cream cheese and sugar and vanilla smacked her in the face. Her bare feet squished into layers of rich frosting. Moaning, she bent and scooped up a handful, bringing it to her mouth.

  The taste was unlike anything she could ever make, and she was a baker, a damn fine one. But this wasn’t just frosting. This was the elixir of life.

  Every swallow settled like sunlight in her stomach, filling her limbs with warmth and verve. She tasted the sweetness of vanilla and cinnamon, the tanginess of lemon and lime, the salty smoothness of velvety, salted caramel.

  Each bite was unique and different, and so much sweetness should make her sick, but it didn’t.

  “This is how I feel when whenever you are near me.” His words feathered through her ears. Smiling, she glanced up, but this time he was little more than a stack of black smoke, looming like a cottony wisp before her.

  She could barely make out his features, but she knew it was him.

  “This is amazing, Hatter. You’ve put me to shame.” She laughed.

  The amorphous touch of his hands as he grabbed hers made her glance up.

  “I love you, Alice.”

  Heart warm and soul full of yearning for this man, she wished the frosting on her hands and face to disappear so that she didn’t look like a crazy mess. “So this is your treasure? A world of frosting?” She laughed. “Leave it up to my crazy man to love the frosting the best.”

  “Oh, Alice.” He shook his head. “Don’t you see it yet?”

  Searching his coal-black gaze, she frowned. “See what?” Turning to stare at the endless mountain of pearlescent white frosting, she shrugged. “I do see it.”

  “No.”

  Unsure of what was going on, she turned back to him in time to see him shake his head. “Can’t you figure out my treasure yet?”

  Licking her lips, she tried to understand it. He’d taken her to a garden of hibiscus flowers that’d turned out to be butterflies, a world full of frosting... Was she missing something?

  “Flowers, butterflies, and frosting?” she asked hesitantly.

  Laughing, he flicked his wrist and the same door appeared as before.

  Brows lowering, she glanced around. “Where is your treasure, Hatter? I’m confused.”

  “One more door, Alice. Go through there, and then you shall truly see.”

  Grabbing hold of the handle, she watched as his shadow disappeared, and when he’d vanished she walked inside.

  Everything was black. The type of black that seemed impossible to penetrate, it was deep and unyielding, complete and utter darkness.

  The door slammed shut behind her. The moment it did, a brilliant burst of ruby-red light flashed in gently beating bursts.

  A swamp of red and then black, red and then black, over and over. There was a loud humming, whooshing sound that almost reminded her of...

  Blinking, she looked up, and that’s when she noticed she wasn’t in a cave like she’d first assumed. The walls around her were firm and gleamed like opaque crystal whenever the red bled through.

  “This is a heartbeat,” she whispered, figuring it out.

  The moment the words left her lips, a bright white spotlight shone down on her, and in front of her was a long, gilded mirror. It reached up and down to eternity, never ending, going on and on and on.

  Tiptoeing close, she stared at her reflection, studying herself in a way she’d not done in some time. She barely recognized her reflection.

  It wasn’t that she was all that different. She still looked like the same Alice in many ways—short and willowy with long black hair, a small, heart-shaped face, and sloping brown eyes. It wasn’t even how her skin glowed with a type of vitality she’d not had in life, that it was more golden bronze than the muted yellow she’d been in the hospital room during her final hours of life, or even the wildness of the dress she now wore. It wasn’t in the way she’d styled her hair.

  No... The difference came from within. She was a woman loved and cherished... She was a...

  Strong hands clamped onto her shoulders, and this time it was Hatter. Her true Hatter, his wicked, molten brown eyes gleaming like rich black earth as he looked at her reflection in the mirror. The crackle and pop of his energy mingled with her own, stoking the embers that always glowed whenever she was around him.

  “This is my heart, where I guard my greatest treasure.”

  Stunned, she looked back at herself.

  “You are my treasure, Alice. You.” His deep voice coiled around her heart, squeezing it in a tight fist and making her ache for him.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She turned in his arms, her words momentarily fleeing a throat too full of a giant lump, making it hard to speak.

  “From the moment you entered my world, took me as your man, and called me your own, I have never been the same. I was dead when you found me.”

  Falling deeper into the cradle of his arms, she smiled, not fighting the tears any longer.

  “My world was shattered, ruined, it wasn’t good. Wasn’t right. But you fixed me.” His finger touched the tip of her widow’s peak before trailing softly, languorously, down her forehead, across the bridge of her nose, and finally landing upon the corner of her lips. “I love you, my mate, my heart.”

  Sniffling, she shook her head. “You’ve got it all wrong, Hatter.”

  He cocked his head.

  “I didn’t fix you. You fixed me,” she whispered.

  Kissing each knuckle of her hands before he spoke again, he leaned into her lips, speaking so close she could taste the wintery wash of mint upon her lips.

  “Happy birthday, Alice. Was this a good surprise?” He asked it with a note of trepidation, and she read the worry scrawled upon his brow.

  Laughter filled her soul. “You’ve given me the best birthday gift anyone could ever give.” Framing his face, she took the time to once again admire the masculine beauty of the man before her.

  Warm brown eyes, a long and regal nose, thick dark brows, the slashes of cheekbones, and the square jaw dusted with day-old stubble, there wasn’t a thing about him she’d ever change.

  Brushing back a lock of dark hair that’d slipped over his eyes, she never let her gaze waver as she said, “You’ve shown me your soul, how can I not be in awe of this amazing gift?”

  His lashes fluttered.

  “I love you more now than I did yesterday.” She mo
ved deeper into him, wiggling every inch of hers against him, purring as his thickness twitched against her thigh. “I will love you more tomorrow than I do today, and the day after that, even more. I do not deserve you, Hatter, but I will never give you up.”

  Eyes that’d seemed full of worry just moments ago now flared to life with another emotion altogether. The heat that always simmered just below the surface between them grew hotter. His large hands slid slowly and oh so torturously down her lower spine until they rested against the swell of her backside.

  A mound of downy softness encased them a moment later.

  Alice didn’t need to look around to know they were back at their cottage, within the room of silken pillows. Hatter was laying her down on a bed of them, crawling his large, muscular body on top of hers with a predatory gleam in his eyes that made her toes curl and heat slither through her stomach. With a blink, their clothes were gone and the magnificence of his body was all she could see.

  “Hatter,” Alice whispered with an impish grin.

  Hot lips pressed against the column of her throat. “Hmm?”

  Tracing her fingers along the corded muscles of his back, she nipped at his shoulder playfully—just hard enough to draw a hiss from him.

  “Do you think that maybe you could”—she blushed—“turn back into water, just long enough to—”

  With a deep laugh, he morphed before her eyes, becoming the shimmering man of glassy beauty.

  “Oh gods,” she breathed, opening her arms to him. “Best birthday ever. How am I ever going to top that?”

  “Too much talking,” he growled, then claimed her lips, and with a sparkle of laughter, Alice fell headlong into his spell.

  She loved her Mad Hatter, now, forever, and always...

  ~*~

  Turn the page for some of Alice’s amazing recipes!

  Alice Hu’s Red Queen’s Revenge Cupcakes

  Ingredients

  2½ cups flour

  1½ cups sugar

  3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  1 teaspoon salt