As if sensing my distress, Morpheus takes a seat on a parlor chair and draws me into his lap—my wings draped to one side of his legs and my calves along the other. He folds his arms around me, completely at ease.

“You see. It’s as I told you,” he speaks to Red, his voice a deep rumble close to my ear. “We’re utterly in love, and planning our future.” He settles our joined hands in my lap, causing the dress’s tiers to jingle softly. I struggle not to stiffen as I wait for the ripping inside my heart to subside. The backs of my thighs are flush against his lithe, muscular ones, a distraction and a comfort. “She wore the wedding dress I told you of. Is that not proof enough? Now, as per your side of the bargain—”

“Oh no,” Red intones. “Not until we are married. That is the bargain. You’ve tricked me once. It won’t happen again.”

“We are married? What do you mean, we?” I look over my shoulder at Morpheus, who offers a pleading wince from beneath his hat’s brim. It’s infuriating to have the iron dome overhead. Without it, he could send me his thoughts instead of me playing this game blind.

“We, as in us three. The wicked trinity.” Red smirks at her cleverness, and a stray strand of ivy pulls the red streak free from my bun. The hearts on her gown’s sleeves begin thumping so wildly, they make a wet smacking sound. Her dark blue gaze falls on mine as my hair comes alive, wrapping around her vine affectionately. It’s my magic causing the contact, not hers, which scares me even more.

“You and I are to reclaim the throne for our bloodline once and for all,” Red continues. “And to prove to me that you are serious about your royal duties, that living as queen in Wonderland is your one priority, and to ensure there are no more mortal distractions, you will marry Morpheus, today. He told me you love one another, that you will rule the Red kingdom together. I want to see it for myself. I will not leave this place until you’ve forsaken your other life and the boy who’s been such a distraction for you. Or, if you prefer, I can rid you of him permanently and give our predecessor the human heart she’s been craving for her collection.”

Fear for Jeb’s safety resurrects my courage. I yank my treasonous hair away, forcing it behind my ear. “Keep making threats like that and I won’t take you out of here at all, wretch. You can stay and rot.”

“Your beloved betrothed wants me to repair Wonderland far too much to allow your stubbornness to stand in his way. Isn’t that right?”

I glare over my shoulder at Morpheus. He glares back, unreadable.

“Looks like the only rotting will be your free spirit under my command,” Red baits, as one of her vines slithers toward me on the floor.

Still riding my surge of anger, I concentrate on the carpet beneath her, imagining the pile as the tentacles of a sea anemone. The fibers stretch tall and tubular, capturing her advancing appendage.

I smile as she looks up at me, shocked. “I’ve been practicing. Want to try again? I have an entire sea of carpet to play with. And the way I remember it, your spirit withered under my command, just like now.”

Morpheus’s fingers tighten through mine—a squeeze of encouragement or of warning, I’m not sure. Either way, I ignore him and engage in a stare-down with her poisonous eyes.

“Oh, but I’ve taken measures to assure that won’t happen again. Haven’t you noticed yet?” Red lifts Hart’s inanimate hand and points it at my chest, triggering the tearing pain anew.

My concentration wavers. The vine I captured escapes the shrinking filaments of carpet.

In the same moment, Red topples, flung to the floor by Hart’s resurgence in their shared body. They roll around, looking like a mutated mental patient, scratching and tearing at their ever-changing hair with fingers and snarls of ivy.

I leap to my feet, ready to liberate my dress’s razor edges and rip her to shreds while I have some leverage.

Morpheus tugs me back into his lap and whispers in my ear, “You would only damage the shell and turn both spirits to ash.” It’s amazing how he reads my mind without any magic at all. “We need Red to fix Wonderland. Bide your time, luv. Bide. Your. Time.”

Always the voice of reason, even when madness drives his every action. Red holds all the cards, along with my heart. She admitted she’s tainted me, confirmed my suspicion that I need her not only to fix Wonderland but to fix my insides.

There’s a loud thud as the queen’s spinning body busts into the table’s legs and spills the milk. Red manages to get the upper hand again. She stands, entwines the queen’s arms, and smooths her crimson hair with a shaky vine. “Get your betrothed in hand, or the bargain is off,” she says to Morpheus. “And you know what that will mean for your precious home.”

I start to offer a nasty retort, but Morpheus tightens his hold around my waist—an unspoken plea.

Red’s attention shifts to me. “Today, you will welcome my spirit within your body. We will wed Morpheus, leave AnyElsewhere, and take our rightful place on the Red throne. Your betrothed has voiced a particular eagerness to begin your honeymoon.” She rustles to the door in a flowing cascade of netting, satin, and tentacle-like vines. “Prepare for the ceremony. I’ll return before the hour is out.”

She leaves Morpheus and me behind the closed door with nothing but the pounding of a hundred hearts—those that are disembodied and rocking the room, and the two wrestling within our own chests.

I leap off his lap and face him. “Eagerness to begin our honeymoon? Really?”

“Oh, don’t be so coy, my blossom,” he purrs, his flawless face the embodiment of temptation beneath the chandelier’s throbbing glow. “You know we can hardly keep our hands off one another.”

The netherling inside me fidgets, tantalized by his teasing. “What I know is that you always kiss and tell.”

Instead of the pompous grin or snide comeback I’m expecting, he shushes me with a finger to his lips and mimes: “The walls have ears.”

I don’t dare assume he’s being figurative. Standing slowly, he keeps a wary eye on our surroundings. He takes off his hat and gloves, then places them in the chair.

I bide my time as he lifts a cloth napkin from the table and runs his fingers across the burgundy wall tiles. He’s on the last quarter of the room when he scoops something into his hand and beckons me close. Five pea-size creatures scuttle over the lines of his palm. They resemble tiny human ears with crab legs and wings that seem too small to lift them.