"The decision falls to you. She’s too weak to make it for herself. Red’s greed and vengefulness saw to that when she made Alyssa’s heart the battlefield.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Morpheus and Jeb answer simultaneously without hesitation.

Shh." I squeeze his hand. His palm feels clammy. "We have to keep it down, okay? We don't want my dad coming in."

He grits his teeth against more shivers. "Always knew I'd end up in your bed . . . and hear you say those words one day." He manages a smirk.

Jeb snarls. "Unbelievable. Even when he's at death's door he's a tool." He arranges a pillow beneath Morpheus's neck. "Why don't you keep your mouth shut while we help you."

Morpheus laughs weakly, his skin flashing with blue light. "What say Alyssa"--his breath rattles--"give my mouth something else to do?

“Is Jeb alive?” I ask Morpheus.
White bleeds into his jeweled markings—the color of indifference. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“You know it’s not. Could you for once just give me a straight answer?”
He gazes up at the smoky gray sky. “Your mortal is alive and well. In fact, you will no doubt be seeing him very soon.”
Relieved tears spring into my eyes. “So, that means you know where he is?” Is it possible Morpheus took Jeb under his wings after all?
Dad stops stuffing the fabric in the bag, as if waiting to hear the answer.
Appraising his cane, Morpheus growls. “I do know where he is.” Before I can respond, he lifts his eyes to mine, jewels now bordering on emerald green. “I suppose I should be grateful his name wasn’t the first thing that came out of your mouth.”

Morpheus snatches both of my necklaces from my fingers, holding the delicate links taut enough that I can’t struggle without breaking them. “Were he to pay more attention to you instead of his precious career”—he drapes the charms over a palm and, using his gloved forefinger and thumb, positions the tiny key in place atop the heart’s keyhole—“perhaps then he would be attuned to your needs and desires.” Holding my gaze, he makes a show of how the key’s teeth aren’t the right shape for the heart’s opening. “As it stands, he’s just not the right fit.

“He’s wicked. He’s dangerous. And he’s far from trustworthy. But he’s devoted to me and Wonderland. In that respect, he’s my friend.” I stop before the rest can escape: He’s lodged himself inside the netherling half of my heart, no matter how hard I tried to deny him access.

He had you in his room?" A dark cloud crosses Jeb’s face. “Do you swear he didn’t try anything?”

“Scout’s honor.”

He squeezes my waist, tickling me. “Too bad you were never a Scout.”

I squirm and smile. “Nothing happened.”

That’s a lie. Morpheus got to me in a big way, showing me a side of myself I can hardly believe exists—one I’m not sure Jeb will be able to accept.