What I thought were droplets of red blood on the snow merge together to form a pulse of light. It tunnels underneath the web surrounding the grave keeper. It doesn’t stop there. Snaky, glowing strands separate and spread into the roots beneath the ground that lead to every tree. The light seeps into the writhing toys, feeding them. One by one, they settle to a disturbingly serene hush.

Jeb stands. His tattoo that once glowed with power and magic—that was bleeding moments ago—is the color of his skin, healed and raised like a scar. Not even a blink of light shimmers behind it.

His eyes are different, too—a darker green, like moss in shadows. Some integral part of him has changed.

“Jeb.” I fist my hands at my sides. “I made a promise to you. For a life together.”

He shakes his head. “I release you of your vow, Al.”

At his words, I feel the difference . . . the bind I made breaking free. “No!” I lurch forward and clutch Sister Two’s neck. “What did you do to him?”

Jeb gently peels my hands off the spidery woman. “What I asked her to do. Didn’t Ivory tell you?”

“That you volunteered to be the dream-boy? Like my dad was? That’s why you’re letting me out of my promise. So I won’t be tied to a corpse.” My voice is high-pitched and desperate. Nothing like a queen’s should sound.

Jeb frowns. “You didn’t give Ivory the chance to explain, did you? You went flying all over the castle half-naked to find me without letting her finish.”

I clench my jaw.

He turns me to face him. His face flushes with color and he looks strong and healthy again. His frown turns into a smile, those dimples a vision too lovely for words. “Classic Al.”

“This isn’t funny. What you did . . . we have to undo it. There’s another way to give Wonderland dreams.”

He squints. “By you having a child with Morpheus? Are you ready for that today?”

My throat constricts. I finally know who I am without a doubt, but I’m still learning who Morpheus and I are together. I don’t want to bring our son into the picture before we’ve had time to grow, to work side by side and accept one another.

I want to do everything right this time, so I’ll never hurt Wonderland again.

Jeb takes both my hands in his. “You’ve made enough sacrifices. Your heart was ripping in half, trying to appease everyone and everything you love. You didn’t get to make the choice of where to live. It was made for you. So from this point on, anything that happens between me and you, or you and owl-bait, will be your choice. Not because of some magical promise you made me when you were desperate to save my ass from no-man’s-land. Not because of a dream-child you’re prophesied to bring into this world someday. Neither of those things should play any part right now. They’ve been taken care of. So you get to choose what role we’ll have in your lives, your terms. No time limit. No pressure.”

I squeeze his fingers. “I get to choose? How, when you’re staying here in the cemetery?”

“It’s not like that. Sister Two has the power to pull netherling spirits out of a possessed body. She used the same process to isolate my muse and coax it out of me, because it’s an entity now . . . made up of my dreams, nightmares, and imagination, brought to life by Red’s magic. That’s what will take the place of human children.” He’s trying to reassure me, but his words are far from comforting. “It will keep Wonderland’s cemetery balanced, keep it supplied for as long as I live.”

I take a shaky breath. I’m relieved he’s not giving up his life. But just imagining him without his ability to paint makes my chin quiver. “Why should you have to fix my world? You already painted it alive again. That’s enough.”

“It’s my world, too, because it’s part of the girl I love. That’s why I did it, Al. Okay?”

“But we could’ve found another way.”

“There’s no other way for me to be human again. I’m ready to go back . . . to take care of my family. Be who I was born to be.”

My throat swells. “Twice, I’ve watched you give up your life for me. I can’t let you give up your gift.” My voice is stern, hiding the helplessness I feel.

“Giving up the magic is the only way for me to move forward.” He releases my hands and helps free Sister Two from her sticky cage. “It’s my decision. And it’s done.”

Sister Two glowers at me as she scrambles free in the snow, kicking up powder with her eight legs. “Ye are unwelcome in the garden of souls, halfling, lessen ye be bringing me a soul to keep. Queen or no queen, power or no power, there be rules and customs ye must abide if ye wish to live in our world.”

Fury flashes through me, scalding hot. My skin sparkles, casting tiny dots of light along the webs and trees. “Fair enough. But there’s a new rule for you, grave keeper. I understand you’re tired of searching out dreamers. Well, problem solved. Now that you have an ample supply, you have no business returning to the human realm. Your place is here, tending your charges. The portals out of Wonderland will be heavily guarded. If I ever find you sniffing around them, I’ll strap you up in your web and let you hang for the rest of eternity.”

We stare each other down. She hisses but keeps her distance, wary of my magic. Jeb takes my hand and drags me toward the image of Finley waiting on the other side of the mirror to let us into the castle.

The moment we step through, the glass crackles and becomes solid again. All that’s left is a reflection of me in my see-through gown. Jeb grabs one of the drop cloths at Finley’s feet and covers me with it.

“Thanks for keeping watch,” he says, shaking Finley’s hand.

Finley offers a key to Jeb for the mirror, then bows to me. There’s serenity in his amber gaze as he says, “Hope to see you both at the banquet this evening.”

For a young man once so tortured and suicidal in the human world, he seems at peace and in control. All along I thought he was a hostage, but by loving him and appointing him a position in her army, Ivory has given him a purpose . . . a reason to live.

Red once had a constructive purpose, too. If she hadn’t lost sight of it, maybe she could’ve found peace. The knot at the base of my skull doesn’t budge this time. Her regret has consumed and incapacitated her.

What if the same thing happens to Jeb? For so long his identity was wrapped up in his art. What’s his purpose now?