Page 22

CHAPTER 22

Blue-white energy bursts pulsed through the thick gray clouds surrounding Shadow’s dropship, occasionally silhouetting one of the other ships in his wing. Apart from those flashes, he couldn’t see anything—he had to rely upon the scanner alone to avoid collision.

The ship jolted and rattled as a nearby blast disrupted the air, but the shields held.

“The fleet was supposed to soften them up before we made entry,” said the lieutenant over the comm system.

Their pre-mission briefing had mentioned an orbital bombardment of the landing zone; had the fleet screwed up, or had the strike simply been ineffective? Shadow had made dozens of drops on almost as many planets during his career, most of which had been under enemy fire, but he’d never seen the sky so lit by anti-aircraft bursts. His heart beat steadily but loudly; he felt as though he were teetering on the edge of a precipice, and he’d be plunged into mindless terror if he fell.

The ship broke through the cloud cover, and Shadow’s eyes widened as the world opened up below—a world that was all wrong.

Massive trees, each at least two hundred feet tall, surrounded a large clearing which was crisscrossed with purple pathways that followed winding, nonsensical courses and intersected one another at random without any discernable reason or pattern. A large building stood in the center of that clearing, none of its angles or parts quite matching the rest.

“This is all wrong, sir,” Shadow called. “Wrong landing zone, wrong planet.”

“Get us on the ground,” the lieutenant replied.

Shadow turned his head to look at his co-pilot, but—despite the light of energy bursts in the air all around and the glow of the instrument panels in front of him—the other seat was shrouded in an impenetrable patch of darkness.

An explosion shook the ship violently. Alarms blared and beeped, and the ship pitched to the right. One of the engines died, and the stabilizer failed. The ship whipped into a rapid spin.

Shadow’s muscles strained as he wrestled the controls. The world below spun wildly, but one focal point remained oddly, impossibly stationary—the building at the center of the clearing.

And the dropship was hurtling toward that building.

The cacophony around him—soldiers shouting, the dropship shaking, alarms blaring—made it difficult to hear his own thoughts. All he could do was fight his losing battle against the controls.

With a deafening crash, the drop ship hit the building. Wood snapped, splintered, and shattered against the hull, and metal groaned and whined. The initial strike was followed by an immense impact so powerful that Shadow’s world went black.

He opened his eyes sometime later—it could’ve been seconds or hours, he couldn’t guess—to find himself still strapped into his seat, bathed in the glow and heat of a nearby fire. Dazed but feeling no pain, he unbuckled his harness and stumbled to his feet, placing a hand on the control console to balance himself against the drastic tilt of the floor. He looked to his co-pilot first, and froze as terror—sudden, confusing, and consuming—spread outward from his gut to ice his veins.

There was another him, another Shadow, in the co-pilot’s seat, slumped back and dressed in a pale green hospital gown. The holes on the front of the gown—bullet holes—were ringed with glistening blood.

“I never made it out of the pod,” the other-him rasped without moving his mouth.

“No.” Shadow backed away. His foot slipped off the edge of the floor and he stumbled, landing on his backside partly on broken wood planks and partly on dirt. He swept his gaze around, only then realizing what should’ve been obvious from the start—the crash had torn both the building and the ship apart. He turned toward the rest of the craft as he regained his feet.

Dead soldiers were strewn everywhere. One row of transport seats had separated from the rest of the ship, and its passengers were scattered amidst the wreckage and debris.

The lieutenant lay closest to Shadow. He’d been impaled through the chest by a signpost, the sign for which was on the ground nearby. The hand-painted letters on the sign were still legible despite the blood spattered across them—Hatter’s Tea Party.

The lieutenant’s dark, lifeless eyes turned toward Shadow. The name plate on the human’s uniform said WINTERS, and Shadow recognized his face.

Edward Winters. The Hatter.

This is wrong, all wrong. The Hatter…he didn’t serve with me. I never knew him before… The lieutenant was someone else…

“Death is real,” the Hatter said in a dried-out whisper. “Death is in Wonderland, Wonderland is death.” His head turned with a slow, jerky motion to face Shadow fully. “You are dead.”

“No. This isn’t real. You’re not real.” Shadow hurried away from the Hatter and turned around.

He found himself suddenly surrounded by mist, the ship wreckage nowhere to be seen. He stepped forward. His foot landed in cold water. Dread lodged itself in his throat.

“I left this place. I woke up. I woke up.”

“Shadow…” Alice’s voice drifted to him, made ethereal by the fog.

He scanned his surroundings, searching for her among the indistinct trees, vines, and too-still water. His gaze stopped on a distant, shadowy figure—a figure in a short-skirted dress.

Shadow ran toward it, plunging into frigid, waist-deep water. The muddy bottom sucked at his feet. With each step, he sank a little deeper, his pace slowed a little more, and his heartbeat gained speed and volume.

“Shadow,” Alice called again; she sounded no clearer, seemed no closer.

He strained against the mud, sputtering and coughing when his head dipped below the surface, pushing himself harder and harder, willing himself toward Alice. But the muck only thickened and grabbed at him ravenously. His head went under again, and he couldn’t straighten enough to get it above the surface. He clawed at the bottom, dragging himself forward, and growled in anger and panic.

His claws dug into more solid ground. Lungs burning, he hauled himself forward and up a sharp incline until his head finally emerged. Shadow sucked in a harsh breath; the air was like fire as it flowed into his lungs, but it was so sweet.

Shadow pulled himself onto land fully, tugging his legs out of the mud’s lingering grasp, and looked forward. Alice’s form was still obscured by the mist, but she was much closer, standing amidst a jumble of vines and gnarled branches. He staggered to his feet and hurried forward, catching himself with his hands when he stumbled; his legs felt so light now, after his war with the mud.

“Alice,” he called. “Alice, I’m here! I’m coming.”

She didn’t move, didn’t respond; he ran faster, heart pounding.

He pushed through the branches and vines, breaking and snapping them to clear a path, and ignored the way they scratched and clawed at his skin and clothing. He was close. He needed Alice—only she could ground him, only she could remind him of what was real.

Though she stood only a few feet away, her form remained indistinct, like a phantom in the mist.

“Alice!” Shadow extended his arm, reaching for her.

His fingers caught the fabric of her skirt, and the dress simply fell away to dangle his hand. Shadow’s heartbeat intensified, his chest constricted, and his throat tightened. The dress had been dangling from a cluster of branches with a vaguely humanoid shape.

“No, no, no,” he muttered, lifting the dress in both hands. There was a hole in its abdomen, surrounded by bloodstained cloth.

“Not real, not real, this isn’t real!”

“Yes, it is,” the king whispered from behind him. “And you’re dead.”

Shadow spun around, but instead of finding the king, he found…himself. He was looking into his own face, his own eyes. The other him grinned wickedly and thrust a knife into Shadow’s chest.

Shadow woke with a gasp and sat up, one hand pressed to his chest—where a hot, tingling sensation was slowly fading. His palms and feet were cold and clammy, his heart was racing, and tremors coursed along his limbs.

Soft, soothing hands slid across his shoulder, back, and chest. “Shh. It’s okay, Shadow,” Alice said, leaning close to brush her nose in his hair. “It was only a nightmare. You’re here. You’re awake now.”

He glanced around the room. It was dark, but not so dark that he couldn’t make out the hotel room’s furnishings—the long mirror behind the desk, the wide, currently blank entertainment screen, the low, six-drawered dresser. A simple as the room was, Shadow was grateful for it; he preferred this place over anywhere he’d stayed in Wonderland.

He would’ve preferred anywhere over Wonderland, so long as Alice was with him.

Shadow slipped his arm around Alice and held her close, pressing his lips to the top of her head and inhaling her scent. This was real; she was real; they were alive. He wanted to tell her that he knew he was awake, that he knew he was with her, that he was all right, but he couldn’t find his voice. His throat was tight, and his chest felt hollow. No words would come out.

He had dealt with nightmares almost every night since they’d left the psychiatric hospital. It had been jarring; in Wonderland, his sleep had always been dreamless. Most of the nightmares had been flashbacks—memories he didn’t seem to possess during the day surfacing by night, while his mind was most vulnerable. Chaotic, terrifying battles; his ship crashing; the torture he’d suffered afterward—none of it seemed to happen in order, and little of it stayed with him after waking, but they were always vivid. They also, at times, mixed with his experiences in Wonderland.

Thanks to Chief Farland, Shadow had an identity to put with his legal name—Vailen Kor had been a Warrant Officer in the Intergalactic Union Defense Forces, a dropship pilot. He’d flown a great many combat missions and had suffered several injuries along the way, but it was his last mission that had eventually resulted in him being committed at Liddell Psychiatric Hospital. It had been that last mission that broke a mind that must already have been battered.

His ship had crashed, and almost everyone on board had died. Shadow—then Warrant Officer Kor—and a few of the other survivors had been taken prisoner by the enemy and tortured for nearly a year before being rescued by friendly forces.

The events following Shadow’s rescue had been what Chief Farland called a sadly typical story . Despite his service, Shadow had simply not received the care he’d required; his government had failed him. The trauma he’d suffered had impeded his ability to function normally. Eventually someone—there was no record of who—had brought him to Liddell Psychiatric Hospital and had him committed, where Shadow simply became another sleeper in the system, forgotten.

The information he’d received about himself hadn’t been a magic key—it hadn’t suddenly unlocked his memories, hadn’t changed who he was. Though he now knew his given name, Alice had fallen in love with Shadow , not Vailen Kor, and he didn’t want to be anyone but hers . She’d told him he could be whoever he wanted, that she loved him no matter what name he’d gone by—and he wanted to embrace the life he’d already begun to build with her, wanted to look toward the future. He was Shadow, and when that name came from her lips, it meant so much more than it ever had before. She’d made it something special.

But it was nice to know he was someone and not just a ghost from a simulated world, all the same.

“I’m okay,” he said once his breathing had eased and his heart had slowed. “Sorry I woke you again.”

She pressed closer against him; the silk of her nightgown was soft and cool on his skin. Her fingers rubbed back and forth across his chest, petting him, letting him know she was there. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I know, it’s just…” he sighed and shook his head. “It’s been four weeks and they’re just as bad. And when they’re like this one… I was back there again. Back in Wonderland. And it was so real, and everything was wrong , and…” Shadow tightened his hold on her.

“It was only a dream.” She lifted her head and looked up at him. Her eyes shifted as she searched his face, her pupils wide and unfocused; her eyesight wasn’t nearly as good as his in the dark. “Your doctor said it’s normal, especially after spending so many years in a simulation. It’s a process, Shadow, but you’re not going through it alone. I’m here with you.” Raising her hand, she brushed her fingers over his brow, tucking his hair to the side. “Your mind just needs time to heal.”

He settled his hand over hers, pressing his cheek into her palm. Her touch had been exquisite in Wonderland, but here in the real world, it was so much more powerful, and he craved it. They’d been restricted to largely innocent interactions over the last few weeks—his doctors had ordered it.

For the first week of his recovery, Shadow hadn’t had much choice other than comply—his injuries had been even more tender during that time than they’d been immediately after his fight with Victor Koenig—the Red King—and his body had been weak. Despite the chemicals and processes the asylum had used to fight muscle atrophy and other problems caused by being immobile for long periods, Shadow’s body had worn down over the seven years he’d been under.

But he’d seen the difference in the mirror lately—he was filling out. Every day, his aches diminished a little more, and he felt a little stronger. He knew he would never feel as fast or strong as he had in Wonderland, and that was still disorienting, but he would adjust.

With Alice at his side, he could overcome anything.

Despite his injuries, despite everything that had been going on regarding the investigations into Koenig, the Liddell Psychiatric Hospital, and Alice’s stepmother and stepbrother, despite frequent trips to doctors and repeated psychiatric evaluations, despite numerous interviews with the police—or perhaps because of all that—Shadow was desperate to have her.

They hadn’t mated once since leaving Wonderland. Between his healing injuries and the stress and exhaustion caused by their ordeal, there’d been neither the time nor the energy on either of their parts.

It’d been a long time since they’d joined.

Too long.

He dropped his hands to Alice’s hips and lifted her, dragging her onto his lap so that she straddled him. She released a startled breath, and her hands fell to his shoulders.

“Shadow, what are you doing?” she asked.

He kicked away the blankets covering them and moved his hands to her thighs, sliding his palms up beneath the silky material of her nightgown to feel her . “It should be obvious, sweet, sweet Alice.”

“But you’re still healing. The doctor said?—”

His mouth swooped down and captured hers. “Don’t care,” he said against her lips. Her heat radiated into him, so inviting, so maddening. The pads of his thumbs brushed over her pelvis. “I need you. The rest doesn’t matter.”

She remained tense for a moment; he knew she was worried about hurting him, but the flush on her skin told him she was just as desperate for this as he was. Her lips parted, and her tongue slipped out to dance with his. She eased her muscles and smoothed her palms down his chest. He growled when she curled her fingers to trail her nails over his skin, scraping them down his abdomen.

Alice tore her mouth from his to kiss along his jaw. “I need you, too,” she rasped. “So much.”

Hearing her voice—hearing her need —fanned the desirous flames within Shadow to new heights.

Under her touch, everything else faded away—neither this world nor any other mattered. Neither this world nor any other existed. Reality was only Shadow and Alice; she was his universe.

He slid his hands up, palms gliding over her soft skin as he drew her nightgown off over her head. He tossed the garment aside; it may as well have fallen into the void for all he cared about it in that moment. Once she was bared to him, he pulled away, taking a moment to bask in her beauty, letting his eyes devour her a little at a time. Her hair fell around her naked shoulders and curled around her breasts, and those soft globes and their hardened peaks made his mouth water and drew him in. He wrapped an arm around her, tipped her back, and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

Alice gasped. Her back arched, and her fingers delved into Shadow’s hair, holding him to her breast. When he sucked harder and twirled his tongue around her nipple, she moaned. It was amongst the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. He nipped the hard bud before moving his mouth to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention as he caressed the first with his free hand.

She undulated her hips on his thighs. Inhaling deeply, Shadow took in the sweet, heady scent of Alice’s desire. A deep, low sound rose from his chest—part groan, part purr, part growl—and his cock grew so stiff it hurt, throbbing against the flat of her stomach. A bead of seed— his seed! —trickled from its tip and rolled down his shaft.

He moved his tail around Alice and trailed it down her back toward her ass, tickling her cleft before slipping it between her legs to stroke up her sex to her clit. She bucked and moaned, and within moments, she was gyrating against his tail, her breath coming in soft pants.

“Now,” Alice said, gripping his hair to pull his mouth away from her breast. Her nipples were a lovely red after his attentions. “I need you inside me now , Shadow. No more waiting.”

The desire on her face—run through with deep, undeniable love—made her more beautiful in that moment than ever before, a feat he would’ve thought impossible a moment ago.

“I love that you’re willing to play,” he said, withdrawing his tail and curling it possessively around her waist. “But I love it even more when you’re done with the games.”

Shadow settled his hands on her hips as she rose on her knees. Even if he hadn’t recovered, he was more than strong enough to do what was required of him—and would’ve found the strength regardless. He lifted her up, drew her forward, and pressed the head of his cock against her entrance.

She bore down on him.

The head of his shaft slipped into her tight, wet channel. She pushed down upon him farther, her nails digging into his shoulders as she stretched around him, rising slightly only to press down again, easing her passage. She panted, her brows creased in concentration, impatience, and need.

Shadow flexed his fingers on her hips, careful not to curl his claws into her tender flesh. Everything within him, every instinct, demanded he take over, demanded he savagely thrust inside her, but he held himself still; he didn’t want to hurt her.

Alice didn’t seem to share in his concern.

She grasped his face between her hands and met his eyes. “Do it,” she commanded before her mouth reclaimed his in a desperate, hungry kiss.

His restraint shattered into a million tiny pieces and drifted away on the winds of his desire; he did not mourn their loss.

Tightening his hold on Alice, he lifted her and thrust his cock into her while simultaneously slamming her down atop him. Alice cried out but didn’t break the kiss. Her body tensed, and her sex clenched around his cock as tremors swept through her. His fingers curled, grazing her skin with his claws. She was dripping for him, so hot, so tight, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe—the pleasure was too much.

What they’d shared in Wonderland hadn’t prepared Shadow for the way this felt—the simulation hadn’t come close to how good it was, to how perfectly they fit together. It hadn’t been able to account for the way every tiny movement in her body sent a thrill along his shaft to crackle outward in electric currents all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. It hadn’t been able to account for the reality of Alice, for the truth of Alice.

He knew, without a doubt, that she was all for him. She was forever.

Alice broke the kiss and pressed her forehead to his. “Don’t stop. Oh please, don’t stop, Shadow.”

He forced his hips into motion, lips parting with a gasp at the overwhelming sensation of it, of her . His movements gradually gained speed and power, pushing faster and deeper with each thrust. “I’ll never stop. Never.”

Shadow smoothed a hand up her back, following the curve of her spine, and slid his fingers into her hair to cup the back of her head. He held her against him as he pumped in and out of her welcoming body. He didn’t know how long he could last; he was enfolded in her heat, enveloped in pleasure, and it was consuming him— she was consuming him—until there’d be nothing left but the way this felt. Nothing left but ecstasy. He didn’t want it to end.

“You’re too perfect to be real,” he said, “but you’re mine, Alice. My sweet, my dearest, my Alice.”

“Shadow,” she whispered, her breath fanning his lips.

Suddenly, her body stiffened, and her tempo faltered. A rush of liquid heat flooded her, bathing him in her essence as her sex contracted around his cock, her inner walls pulsing with her release. She gasped, hands clutching him desperately as she was lost in her pleasure.

And Shadow did not delay in joining her. For a few seconds, he pushed harder and faster than should’ve been possible. Alice’s body shuddered as she cried out in rapture; Shadow came undone in that moment.

The pressure that had built in him—not just tonight, but over the last few weeks, over the last seven years , waiting for her all along—finally became too much. His toes and tail curled as he climaxed, and every muscle in his body seized at once. His head reared back, forcing his back to arch—which only pushed him deeper into her, allow her hungry sex to squeeze out every ounce of his searing hot seed.

Even after he was spent, her sex pulsed and clenched around his throbbing shaft in aftershocks. He made no effort to withdraw from her body; he clung to her, panting.

As the pleasure slowly ebbed, Shadow’s awareness of the world around him returned—but the worry and stress that usually accompanied that awareness didn’t come back. For the first time in memory, Shadow felt…at peace.

This was real. He and Alice were real. And what they shared was more real than anything . Whatever challenges lay ahead—and he wasn’t so foolish or far-gone to believe they’d be without difficulties—they would overcome one by one. Together.