Seated opposite him, I clutch my lace gloves around the rose he gave me earlier when he picked me up from Ivory’s ball. The flower’s perfume entwines with his hookah smoke, stirring a sensual warmth in my lungs. There are eight hours left of my vow to spend the night with him, and we’re heading back to his manor now.

“Every part and parcel of your kingdom will be laid at your feet tonight,” he told me a few hours ago, before we embarked on this tour. We’ve already seen so much of Wonderland, my mind is spinning in resplendent ultraviolet hues and bizarre terrains.

He places his hat and gloves on the seat next to him. I feel him watching me as he smokes, but pretend not to notice. Instead, I concentrate on Wonderland’s landscapes through the window. The neon colors pass in smears, lit up by the magical blue harnesses attached to the moths propelling us forward.

During my seventeen years of life, I’ve seen the Red domain enough times—in dreams and in reality—that I know it by memory. But tonight’s tour is different, more precious.

Everything in Wonderland was reborn today, painted alive at Jeb’s hand. Even my heart is new, held intact by Jeb and Morpheus’s combined magic.

As I’m seated with Morpheus in such tight proximity, my heart glows and draws toward his, almost magnetized. It’s a breathless, exhilarating sensation—as if starbursts of energy pulse within the muscle.

I have to wonder if Morpheus senses the reaction. If he knows that because of the magical sutures he and Jeb provided, I’m tied to them both on the most profound level. That they feed my every breath.

I suspect he does, and can only hope he isn’t going to use it as leverage, because I recognize his quiet meditative state from our childhood. He has a plan simmering in his mind . . . I can feel his wheels turning.

At our last stop, we visited the flower garden outside the rabbit hole’s teensy door. With Morpheus’s patient coaching, I commanded the wraiths in the soil to reverse their damage. Their wails shattered through me. Their black, inky cyclones raced through my blood before whipping around my clothes. They were obstinate, but obeyed, sensing my royal heritage. They put everything back as Wonderland’s gateway was in the beginning, little-boy sundial statue and all. And now the portals into the human realm are fixed, too. Everything is back as it should be.

I’m still half-manic after the experience. One can’t dance with nightmares and not be affected. My skin prickles—as if charged with electricity.

“How are you feeling, luv?” Morpheus asks. I turn to meet his gaze, only to catch him studying the purple light behind my sternum. My heart shines bright enough that even when muted by the white satin and miniature crimson rosebuds sewn into the bodice of my dress, it’s still visible. His eyes level to mine. “Commanding the wraiths leaves a din that rings in the blood. Is that what has you so quiet?”

I nod. My fingertips stroke the rose’s silky petals in a nervous rhythm. Better to let him think he’s figured me out. I can’t tell him what’s really taunting me: the fear that he won’t let me live out my days in the human realm with Jeb without a fight.

He can’t be happy about it. We’ll only have my dreams after this. Tonight will be our first and last night together in reality for many years to come. And that’s if he decides to wait for me at all. But if he doesn’t, I will spend my eternal future trying to win him back.

I swallow the lump of emotion in my throat, struggling to think of something else. Anything else. My need for distraction is answered when I notice we’re not headed back to his manor like he said we were.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask. “I thought the tour was over.”

Two hurricane-style candelabras are mounted on either side of the window, filled with ultraviolet fireflies. Morpheus’s white suit and porcelain skin look almost blue in the light they radiate.

“You keep insisting that you wish to experience all the things Alice didn’t in the human realm.” Several puffs of smoke float toward me, some shaped like hearts, others like chains. “However, it’s just as important that you experience what she did whilst she was here.”

It’s a veiled answer, as clouded as the smoky air between us. I narrow my eyes and an uneasy crimp winds through my stomach that has nothing to do with the candied spider and dandelion wine I indulged in earlier.

“You look pale, blossom.” Morpheus waves some smoke away and bends over the picnic basket at my feet. After sifting through its contents, he tucks an amplifying pastry into his front jacket pocket. Then, taking out a clear glass thermos, he fills a teacup for each of us. “Let’s have some tea to cleanse the wraiths’ residue from your blood. It will be a while yet, till we reach our destination.”

The steam smells familiar and comforting, but I’ve learned to be cautious with what I eat or drink in Wonderland. “What’s in it?”

He smirks, that proud glimmer behind his eyes. “You are wise to ask. ’Tis mushroom tea. To truly empathize with Alice’s predicament, you must be the size she was.”

I study the pocket where he placed the amplifying pastry. “So . . . we’re going to shrink?”

“Do you know of a better way to fill her shoes?” He clinks his cup to mine, then puts the rim to his lips.

I take several sips before noticing he’s lowered the cup from his mouth without drinking. He watches me, studiously.

I’ve been duped.

“Morpheus,” I warn.

He grins.

I’m angry, but not helpless. Even though my muscles jerk and my bones click. Even though every inch of my skin warms and tightens as I grow smaller while Morpheus and the carriage tower around me. I might be the size of a sprite, but after everything I’ve been through this past year, my netherling side is as strong as my human one.

My wings erupt on instinct. I dart for the amplifying pastry in his pocket so I can return to normal size and clobber him, but Morpheus raises a hand and catches me in a handkerchief, wrapping me inside. I’m blinded and didn’t pay close enough attention to my surroundings earlier. I can’t remember what’s available to use as weapons.

Cheater.

“Reminiscent of when you trapped me in a jar in the human realm, yes?” Morpheus whispers, as if hearing my silent accusation.

Anger boils my neck, face, and ears.

“Sorry, luv.” My captor’s breath warms the cloth cocooning my body, heating my already simmering nerves. “Can’t let you unleash all that beautiful wrath . . . not just yet.”

I demand release, struggling to escape the soft folds of licorice-scented fabric, but of course he doesn’t listen. Any more than I did when I’d trapped him.

“Turnabout’s fair play. Isn’t that a saying in your precious human realm?” he baits.

Clenching my teeth, I resign myself to wait for an opportunity to escape. My surroundings become snug. That magical magnetic pull calls to my heart and his answering pulse pounds through me like a giant snare drum, confirming he’s placed me inside his jacket pocket.

Minutes later, I feel the sway of his body as he disembarks from the carriage. His boot soles shuffle against gritty stone.

He fishes me from his pocket, still wrapped like a mummy. Once the handkerchief loosens, I’m unceremoniously dropped onto something wooden and cool. A stagnant, damp scent surrounds me. I scramble to stand, blinking in the soft blue light given off by the firefly lantern Morpheus brought from the carriage. Hinges squeak but I’m not fast enough, and the cage’s door locks before I can flutter through.