“Stop,” I said.
She rolled out of my arms and hit the ground on her hands and knees, gasping. Her head snapped up.
“Where am I?”
“Who are you?” I didn’t answer questions. I asked them.
She was beautiful, blonde hair tangled around her face, chest rising and falling in quick, startled breaths. When her eyes met mine, something pure—innocence and light—flickered there, soft and painfully out of place in this realm.
But beauty meant nothing here.
My hand was steady. It was always steady. But my mind raced.
The queen had sent pretty faces before. Spies who wore innocence like a mask. Women who smiled sweetly before sliding a knife between your ribs.
This girl could be another ploy. Another trap. Send a beautiful woman tumbling from the sky, let her play the victim, let me lower my guard—and then drag me back to that dungeon. Back to the chains. Back to her.
I’d rather die.
“I’m Alice. Alice Ravencrest.” She sat back on her heels, dragging her fingers through her hair. Her eyes went wide at the tip of my blade.
Alice Ravencrest. Pretty name. Could be real. Could be a lie she’d rehearsed a hundred times.
Real fear? Or was she that good an actress?
“Where am I?” she asked again, voice smaller this time.
“The Elder Dimension.”
I couldn’t afford to trust her. I couldn’t afford to trust anyone. The last time I did, I watched a man I called brother hand me over to the queen’s soldiers with a smile on his face.
Never again.
“Oh no. The Elder Dimension? Seriously?” She let out a groan. “What have I done now?”
I blinked.
That was not the response I expected. No begging. No threats. No calculated charm. Just... frustration. Like a woman who’d spilled coffee on herself for the third time that morning.
The queen’s spies were smooth. Polished. They knew exactly what to say to worm their way into your trust.
This girl looked like she wanted to kick herself.
I kept my sword raised, but something shifted in my chest. Doubt. Or maybe curiosity.
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
She glanced around the Forgotten Forest, ignoring my question. “Never mind. How do I get out of here? I need to go back home.”
“Where is your home?” I wanted to see if she would reveal a hint of who she really was.
“New Orleans.”
A sharp pain hit me at the name of that strange town. I shook my head and let out a bitter laugh. “You can’t. You’re trapped here. Just like the rest of us.”
Her gaze swept over me. “The rest of you? Who are you?”
I had no intention of giving her my name and ending up the queen’s prisoner again. But I’d rot in her dungeon forever before I became that bitch’s mate. I took off my hat and bowed with a flourish. “They call me Hatter, the Mad Hatter. But that’s not my real name.”
