Without a word, I stepped away for a moment, grabbing a pink robe from the wardrobe in the hall, which I’d asked Marielle to leave for her. There was no way she could stay in that sinfully pretty dress. Whether it was comfortable or not, I couldn’t look at it any longer without wanting to bury my face between her boobs and sink my damn teeth into her skin.
“What’s this for?” she asked when I returned, holding out the robe.
I didn’t answer her, but she looked surprised. She had no idea what I had in mind and at the same time didn’t stop me. Almost like she wanted it too, but she wasn’t ready yet. At least not right now. Not when she still wasn’t fully convinced how much the bond meant, not when she still wanted to go home—a place that was never meant for her.
“I thought you were taking me to bed,” she whispered so silently.
“I am,” I replied, brushing my thumb over her lips. “Eventually. But first... something else.” I wrapped the pink robe around her body, the silk cooling her heated skin.
There was one place she hadn’t seen yet, the place I built as a safe space—a sort of dream world. Although all of my dreams had been fulfilled with her in my arms, and especially in my bed. One day I’d have her there, begging me to claim her, screaming for a release only my body could allow.
Her soft jaw, the dark brown eyes, and her beautifully shaped lips that were made to be drowned in kisses. All of this was mine, and I couldn’t believe such a bastard of a man like me wouldbe given to her. She didn’t protest any further as I guided her through the corridors, her hand warm in mine, her steps slow and quiet like a sleepwalker pulled between worlds.
I opened a huge door made of ebony wood and golden fragments in shapes of jesters, revealing a long and very wide staircase covered by a red satin carpet. The light cream walls on either side glowed with candle lights in golden sconces.
The entrance was bright and colorful, with swirling striped tent flaps, evoking the feeling of visiting a carnival fest.
As we entered, colorful butterflies, twinkling fairy lights and dragonflies hung from the ceiling, fluttering like a gentle breeze. They weren’t real, but for anyone who entered this room, it felt real enough. The room had very high ceilings that carried the same art style of glass panels as the salon in the castle. It was like stepping into a magical circus-inspired library. Book benches were shaped like circus wagons, each filled with a variety of beautiful books in all different colors, some of them even shimmering like stardust. In the center of the room, there was a cozy round sofa in a velvety red, draped with pillows and soft blankets.
This entire place was created to resemble a dream, as if one were stepping into the most magical storybook. My gaze drifted over to Gwendolyn and it made me realize she was lovelier than all the stories being buried here themselves.She had been the most beautiful story of them all.
I lifted her chin slowly up to meet my gaze.
“Do you like it?”
Her eyes widened, as if she was still too entranced by where we were.
“Yes. This is beautiful…” she said, her lips curving into a smile. “It feels… as though I’ve stumbled into my own Wonderland.”
What Wonderland was she talking about?
“What do you mean?” I asked, reminded once more that shecame from a world so unlike mine, where there were no wonders or whimsical magic. A world in which people worked to afford food and a house, and then die a few decades after. But it seemed that they at least made-up weird stories to try not to think about how boring their world was.
“It’s a story. About a girl named Alice who dreams of a place called Wonderland filled with very strange creatures and a ton of weird things.”
“What strange creatures and weird things are we talking about, my dear?” I asked, twirling one of her long ginger curls between my fingers. Their softness was a grounding reminder of how much of me was already consumed by her.
“Well… there is a grinning cat who can appear and disappear out of nowhere, a furious Queen of Hearts who has had a broken heart ever since she was a little girl, a white rabbit who is constantly running late and a Mad Hatter who is whimsical, sweet and entirely confusing the entire story.”
“I think the last one suits you best,” I said with a teasing smile, lifting her hand to press a soft kiss against her wrist.
She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? Why the Mad Hatter?”
I kept her hand close, tracing her delicate skin with my thumb. “Because he’s whimsical like you. A little strange. A little too curious for his own good. Always saying things that make sense and don’t at the same time.” I looked her up, my gaze embracing every inch of her in. “He probably wondered his entire life if he could ever fit in somewhere… until he ended up in a place where no one is judged. Just like you.”
She blinked, her smile fading slightly as the last words slipped from my mouth.
“What about the confusing part?” she asked, her voice even quieter now.
I smiled amused at her curiosity. “Oh, this part I think fitsyou even better. The way you ask so many questions, the chaos inside your beautiful head making you speak sometimes in puzzles. And then there is the way I feel about you… your presence, your smell, your touch… this allconfusesme.”
Her lips parted, maybe to protest, but no words came out of her mouth.
Instead of waiting for a response, my arms wrapped around her, her weight against me grounding and light all at once.
She lowered her gaze for a moment, then looked back at me. “You know, Wonderland wasn’t the Mad Hatter’s first home. He lived with his parents before… but Wonderland became his. In all its strangeness, its chaos. It was almost like he found peace in the madness.”
“And do you feel that here?” I asked, searching for her expression. “Do you feel at home in the madness Carnivalland is giving you?”
