Page 2 of Fated to the Wicked King

It had been eight months since the Red Queen of Hearts battled the king in a deadly magical duel only for her to be defeated. That day, the king took back the throne that was rightfully his.

Since the magic of the land took on the essence of its ruler, it used to be a whimsical, if oppressed, land. Its people mere puppets serving only to provide the queen with daily entertainment—not to mention providing her with hearts to harvest for sustaining her magic.

But under the new king’s rule, Wünder gradually shifted to become imbued with the darkness of his ruthless shadows. His reputation as a most feared assassin already preceded him, having slaughtered dozens of kingdoms before taking the throne.

With each day came news of more towns leveled, more kingdoms slain, more enemies vanquished. Some said the king was merely consumed by vengeance, obsessed with enacting revenge upon those who had wronged him—those who had helped the Red Queen betray and murder his family. Others said the power of the crown had simply made him mad.

Squashed under his boot, the citizens of Wünder cowered in fear. No one who resisted or questioned his reign of terror lived on to tell the tale. The mere utterance of his name deemed punishable by death.

Not one soul on Wünder could put a stop to the tyranny of the most powerful sorcerer king of fire and shadow. The Heartless King. The Wicked King.

There were several soft thumps and Chez’s fur brushed up against my arm. He was heavier than a regular cat, and rarely leaned on me this way, but I appreciated the gesture. His expression was somber. “He’s not the same man, Allie.”

His ominous statement fell into the unbearable silence of the clock tower.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “I know that.”

Logically, I knew that.

Of course, the king wasn’t the man I once knew.

And of all people on Wünder, I should know.

When we’d first met, he was still a mere assassin, harvesting human hearts for the Red Queen. But when he was ordered to extract my heart and kill me, he’d found a way to resist her control.

He saved my heart.

And I saved his.

It was only unfortunate that we didn’t realize the curse that came with the swapping of hearts, especially in this capricious, mystical wonderland.

Even as the king inevitably chose the decadence, power, and privilege of his royal seat over a normal life with me, all this time, he’d had no choice but to store my heart within himself.

Staring at the faint shadows moving before me as the witchlight adjusted again, I clutched at my chest where the true heart of the Wicked King sat—pumping, beating, racing…

The prevailing opinion was that perhaps I shouldn’t have saved him. As ever, it seemed nothing good had come of the former sorcerer assassin taking the throne.

He had become a new man.

A new man who was now king…and a stranger to me.

Wholly infuriated, I stuffed my wrench back into my tool belt. The blasted furnace was going to have to wait. Winter was going to have to go hang.

Blowing out a breath, I pushed up to stand, turning to Chez. “Can I assume that you’re here because you finally have news from the Duchess?” I snapped my fingers to extinguish the glowing orb, then grabbed the bit of parchment before striding toward the elevator. “Or did you simply pop by since you’ve run out of amusements elsewhere?”

Chez padded beside me. “I hadn’t intended to leave you alone for such a long time.”

“It’s fine.” Once we were on, I tugged the gate closed. “I had plenty of work to do.” As soon as I pushed the button for the floor destination, the elevator mechanism shifted upward with smooth hums and whirs.

“Work as in…?”

Slivers of light broke through the metal cage as the carriage moved up the tower several floors before easing to a stop one level below the topmost.

I gave him a pointed tilt of my head. He was, in fact, the only one who knew what I had been working on all this time.

“Ah.”

Opening the metal gates, I stepped into the cozy space where flickering gas lamps and the warm, amber glow of bulbs cast shadows across the way, blending seamlessly with the clock’s unmoving inner workings.