Ensnared

The jaded explanation falls in line with the reasoning of a solitary fae. Of course it’s for the greater good of the realm he loves. But he still did the right thing, and Jeb’s alive because of it. I won’t forget that. “So, what do you propose we do? Tell Jeb about Red’s part in his magic?”

“Absolutely not. He’ll get some cockamamie idea to stand up to her if we do that. We have to get him out of this realm before they discover him.”

“But he doesn’t want to leave,” I mumble, unable to mask the defeat in my voice. “How do you protect someone who doesn’t want to be protected?”

“He will leave if you take away his source of power. We’ll make a bargain with Red for the antidote. She abhors this place. So we offer her an escape route. She may share Hart’s body, but Red is the most cu

Why would Morpheus make such a sacrifice? Drag not only Red back to his beloved world, but another queen bent on destruction, just to help two mortals?

I shift on the balls of my feet and suppress my suspicion, trying to take him at his word. “The guards . . . they won’t let the Queen of Hearts through the gate. Even if my dad is well enough, he won’t be able to convince them. Red’s inside her, and Hart’s a prisoner. They both belong here.”

Morpheus taps the diary at my neck. “Which is why the Queen of Hearts must stay behind. We shall smuggle Red out under the guards’ noses.”

“It’s not like we can wrap her up in simulacrum. She’s a spirit—” The horror hits me even before I finish rolling the reasoning off my tongue. Morpheus’s cryptic statement earlier when I asked how we would flush Red from Jeb’s system: That, luv, will require the biggest sacrifice of all. And you’re the one who will have to make it.

This is what he was intending all along. When he formed a majestic moth ride to carry us, when he said he’d help me strategize my plan.

It was never my plan. It was his. For me to go to the castle, let Red’s spirit inhabit me, and carry her out of this realm.

“No,” I say, pulse hammering so hard in my wrists I can see the movement beneath my skin in the dim light. “I came here to finish her. Not to give her access to my—” I can’t even say it aloud. She already did something to my heart that needs repair. I won’t let her in again.

Everything that’s happened today . . . the rooms, my epiphanies, Morpheus’s seduction, Dad’s life-threatening state—all of it stifles me like smoke, making it hard to breathe. Woozy and overwarm, I sway. Morpheus backs me to the table.

“Now, we’ll have none of that.” He draws me into a hug and strokes my hair—a tender gesture that feels out of place with his scolding words. “This is the perfect plan.” His voice rumbles in his chest next to my ear—soft and melodic. “It’s the least dangerous to everyone, most of all Jebediah.” I shut my eyes, letting his steady heartbeat knock against my cheek. “The hardest part will be tricking Hart into letting Red’s spirit go. But as for Red herself, we won’t even have to bargain. It’s all she’s ever wanted, to be part of you.”

To be part of you. Bile burns the back of my throat. What if it was Red that Ivory saw in the vision . . . Red living vicariously inside my body? What if it’s her future with Morpheus, not mine? If that’s true, my and Morpheus’s child will belong to her. She’ll be his mother.

I clench Morpheus’s jacket lapels. Doesn’t he realize what could happen if I can’t defeat her once she’s inside me? Doesn’t he understand the danger? Not just for him, but for our future child?

“I’m not letting her use me as a vessel,” I say against him. “Not ever again.”

He eases back and drags a gloved thumb along my temple. “Not even for your mortal? And for the father who needs you? You have her memories to vanquish her the moment we step across the border and Jebediah is cleansed of her power.”

I grip the tiny diary like a lifeline, but still feel myself sinking. “It can’t be the only way.”

“It is. The only way to salvage what we love.”

My nerves prickle. “We love? You don’t care about Jeb. You said so yourself.”

His lips tighten. “He has his merits. Enough that he deserves to live. Just like your father did all those years ago.” He almost looks sincere. But the fluctuation in the color of his jewels gives him away. I’ve finally learned to read him.

My strength rallies. “No. You’re lying. This isn’t the only way to get Jeb out.”

Morpheus presses both hands on the table behind me, pe

I shove him back. “I can convince him.”

“What? By seducing him?” Morpheus scoffs. “I have half a mind to let you try. Whatever it takes to get the boy out of your system once and for all.”

An angry throb pulses in my temples. “You’re right. You do only have half a mind if you think your ‘letting’ me has anything to do with anything.”

His cocky grin answers. “Go ahead then. I’ll swipe the memory of his touch away. And I shan’t need a forgetting potion to do it. I’ve every faith in my abilities to o’ershadow anything that mortal can do for or to you.” He drags his fingertip along my waist, reminding me of what happened between us in his room earlier. “Why are we arguing, hmm?” he croons. “It’s a moot point. You had the morning together. He painted your half-naked body, the lucky sod. Had that been my job, your pretty clothes would ne’er have been crafted. He doesn’t want you anymore.”

That truth scores through me. But I won’t let a wounded ego derail my resolve. “There’s something else to this Red thing. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll wear a simulacrum suit and go alone tonight to get Dad’s cure and put an end to her for good.”

His alabaster complexion pales. “Don’t be a fool. To get into that castle, it will take teamwork. And we must be armed with an escape plan. Most importantly, you need to sleep first. You can hardly stand.”

I step from between him and the table, inching toward the door. “Why would I need to stand? I can fly. And neither you nor Jeb can stop me.” With a snap of my shoulder blades, my wings release, rushing another surge of power through my veins.

Morpheus’s gaze tracks my wings. Filaments of moonlight stream down from above, illuminating his enthralled expression. “That is a breathtaking display, luv. But dare not mistake my veneration for surrender.”

He starts toward me, his expression fading to a scowl. I’ve triggered one of his dark, combative moods. It doesn’t matter, because my imagination is more refined than his, and he’s given me the secret to manipulating Jeb’s paintings.

Before he passes the Japanese screens, I mentally beckon the cranes. They cease pecking their beaks against their rice-paper prison and turn their attention to me. I assign them a new role: lace spi

Bugle-like squawks burst from their throats as they step out of their screens and plop in front of Morpheus in full 3-D form. Wavering on scaly gray legs, the duo clacks and slides along the floor, learning to balance for the first time. Then, wings spread, they lift their elegant necks to full height, reaching Morpheus’s chin.

He backs up, his jewels flashing a yellow-green—cautious fascination.

The cranes capture moonlight in their beaks as if it were tangible threads. Pulling it taut from the ceiling, they weave it into a network of glistening lace with otherworldly speed. One blink, and the panel is already down to Morpheus’s chest.