Untamed - A. G. Howard Page 0,1

them. The fake blood floats into the air in bead-size balls and hovers in place, melding together like raindrops on a windowpane until they’ve formed a virtual latticework—a shimmery red archway that looks like stained, spun glass. Alyssa grabs Jebediah’s hand and pulls him to her. He grins, taking the lead as they dance beneath her makeshift gazebo. Their movements are graceful and synchronized, their bodies never once disrupting Alyssa’s display.

Thomas tilts his head in a scolding gesture, although the pride in his expression would be impossible to miss. If not for the nine-foottall wooden fence he recently installed to protect us from prying eyes, he probably wouldn’t be taking Alyssa’s showmanship so lightly.

Then again, she’s always had him wrapped around her finger.

Our daughter glances at him, beaming, more at peace and more comfortable in her own skin than I’ve ever seen her in all of her seventeen years.

As a result of her magical training with Morpheus in her dreams, she’s becoming flawless in her execution—able to unleash her powers with just a thought. It’s moments like this when I see it: the netherling queen simmering below the surface. A predisposition toward blood and chaos. How she thrives in flames and ravaging storms. How her magic can both inspire and tame pandemonium. How she finds beauty in the morbid and bizarre.

It’s ironic. I tried for so long to hone those same qualities in myself, but my humanity was too strong to be swayed. I was never meant to be queen. I had the desire, but I didn’t have the heart.

The dance ends, and with a flick of Alyssa’s wrist, the droplets of blood fall in slow motion—like a macabre flutter of crimson snow—and nestle again on our clothes, the leaves, and the petals where they originated.

Jenara slurps down the rest of her lemonade, the ice in her cup rattling. “That’s going to be one big mess to clean.”

Alyssa shrugs and laughs. “Nothing that a bottle of bleach and a garden hose won’t fix.”

“Nope. I won’t be using bleach on this masterpiece.” Jenara holds out her arms to showcase the hot-pink fencing jacket covering her petite frame. She dyed it a few weeks ago and added delicate lace trim to the sleeves and neckline. Setting her cup of ice on the ground next to Corbin’s foot, she slides off the swing. “If we’re going to insist on blood and gore, I’m changing into my black one.”

Corbin grabs her around the waist and pulls her back into his lap. “Aw, come on, punk princess. We’ll take down the oldsters before you can even break a nail. Jeb and Al, they just don’t have the right moves.”

Jenara smirks. “Good point.”

“Oh, ha!” In one smooth motion, Alyssa taps her toe against her fallen sword so it rises perpendicular from the ground and slaps the handle into her waiting palm. “Come over here and say that to my face, Cor-bin-ara.”

I exchange glances with my husband and laugh.

“Nice maneuver, skater girl.” Jebediah grins, brandishing his foil. “Want to spar under the willow tree?” He lifts a brow.

“You won’t last two seconds.” She flashes a smile, her engagement ring sparkling in the light as she tosses her sword from one hand to the other in a single, smooth stroke.

“Oh, yeah?” he scoffs, then, without warning, scoops her up and tosses her over his shoulder. Her sword hits the ground with a clang and she giggles as he carries her to the tree and tumbles them both into the low-hanging leaves.

She could easily use her powers and break free. But that’s the point. She doesn’t want to break free of him. She never has. He’s her human match, in every way.

She and I have discussed what her immortality means . . . how hard it’s going to be when he’s gone and she remains. She’s assured me she can survive—even though her eyes grow distant when she imagines it, and her face clouds with torment at the thought. But I believe her devotion to Wonderland and Morpheus is strong enough to help her overcome that loss. And I know that when the day comes, her forever will be dazzling. Morpheus will cherish her. He’ll treat her like royalty. He would even if she weren’t a queen because he admires her bravery.

She’s a warrior, and I’m the coward. My fear of losing Thomas overpowers any loyalty I once had for the nether-realm. I can’t live without him for an eternity. For this reason, among many others, I’m glad my