Page 125 of The Toymaker's Son

“He didn’t. I chose to come back.”

“You… what?” He frowned and held me at arm’s length to read my face. “But what of reality? I do not know if I can give you that.”

“It wasn’t reality I wanted. It was the freedom tochoose. And I choose you.”

Devere fought not to show the world how he hurt; he kept everyone at a distance, kept the world away to stop it from hurting him, and I saw that battle on his face now. He hadn’t believed I loved him, because he’d known, deep down, I didn’t have a fair choice. But now I was free to choose, and I chose him. A whole array of emotions crossed his face, from fear to relief, sadness to regret. But it was a soft, shy smile that settled the longest. “I will try…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “I will try to be worthy.”

“You only have to be you.”

A howl sounded as though frominsidethe mansion.

“Hurry.” Devere pulled me toward the stairs. “We must find the anchor. Look for something surreal, something that does not fit, something you know to be wrong.”

“The clock.” I stopped on the landing, recalling my last visit, and the ticking sounds beating like drums in my head. “It’s the grandfather clock. A huge, hideous thing. That’s this dream’s anchor.”

Dev grinned. “I know it. Let’s go.”

I hurried alongside him, glancing behind us, waiting for the wolves. “You haven’t tried to dismantle this world before now?”

“To what end? You were gone. I have nowhere to go.”

“Hadnowhere to go. You have me. My world is nowhere near as brilliant or fanciful as yours, but it’s real, and I think you’d like it there, after we… After all this is over.”

He smiled again. “I’ve never known reality. What is it like?”

“I er… Well, it’s different. I had a beard.”

He laughed. “A beard?”

I chuckled. “Oh yes.”

I had to be right. He’d be as alive in reality as he was here. Ididbelieve it. Our love was real, which meant he had to be real too.

Our footfalls thumped on the hallway’s thick red carpet. Walking alongside Devere felt right. We belonged together. Everything would be well. We just had to make it back to reality, where Adair would meet his end. No dreamweaving fae could withstand the hard clarity of the real world.

We rounded the hallway corner and stopped.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Adair purred, standing in front of the grandfather clock. “Going somewhere?”

ChapterForty-Seven

Devere

Regardless of whether I survived what came next, Valentine would get his life back. I owed him so much more, but if all I could do was free him from Adair’s clutches, it would be enough.

His fingers curled around mine as we stared down the hallway at Adair.

Adair’s long dark hair blended with his purple gown. His eyes shone their brittle brilliance, and his short, sharp teeth gleamed. He looked like a nightmare poured into male form. Radiating power blurred his edges. He could end all of this with a click of his fingers.

Behind him, the grandfather clock tick-tocked, its giant pendulum swinging. If I stopped it from counting the seconds, like stopping a heartbeat, Adair’s dream would die.

“Let us go,” Valentine said, more optimistic than me. “It’s over.” He took a step forward, then another, leading me along beside him.

Adair narrowed his eyes. “Touch this clock, Valentine, and everything you see here dies, including the man you love.”

It was possible, likely even. Adair’s power ran through my veins. It was the oil in my gears.

Val smiled and continued forward. My fingers slipped from his. He was so brave in the face of madness. “You have a thousand other Deveres in the ballroom. Pick on one of those and let us go free.”

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