Monsterland Mayhem (Fairy Tales With A Monstrous Twist)

27. Ailsa

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

AILSA

The moment I step out of the basement, it becomes clear to me that we’re in some sort of illusion. One I don’t quite understand. How is Heart doing this? I wonder, glancing at the woman I know as Baroness Clarice.

She arches a brow, likely expecting me to bow as I normally would.

I nearly defy her, my urge to stare straight at her hitting me square in the gut.

But I grit my teeth and curtsy the way she anticipates, pretending to play this game.

Find the courtyard , I tell myself. How am I going to do that if I can’t see through this illusion?

“Stop stalling,” she snaps, her heels already clacking.

Bitch , I think, standing.

Her demeanor isn’t different. She’s always been this way. But I… I feel different. Maybe it’s the ability to notice her Alpha traits, or my instincts that tell me she’s not who she seems. Perhaps it’s related to the elixir awakening my inner Omega, or being exposed to my intended mate-circle.

Regardless, I can feel the change, sense that nothing here is right.

Because it’s not real .

At least, not in the way it should be.

The hallways all resemble the manor I spent the last nine years of my life in, but the scents are not right. The general feel is all wrong, too.

This isn’t Baroness Clarice’s home.

It’s not my home either.

But it could be, I think, glancing around once more. This is Monsterland.

I recognize some of the aromas from my brief time here, just as I can smell my mate-circle.

Fire.

Spice.

Cedar .

I inhale, allowing their presence to ground me. Are they nearby? Or just somewhere within the realm?

“What are you doing, Ailsa?” Baroness Clarice— Heart —demands. “Hurry up.”

I apparently paused in the hall, lost to my surroundings. “Sorry,” I say, feigning an apologetic grimace.

She snaps her fingers and I quickly obey, skipping forward, and resume following her. All while trying to discern the source of the illusion, how to see through it.

Because I won’t be able to find this elusive courtyard if I can’t break through this mirage.

Assuming the courtyard is real , I think.

I give myself a mental shake. It’s real .

Everything in Monsterland is insane. I just have to embrace the mayhem. Accept that the unordinary is the new ordinary. Believe that I’m meant to be here, chaos and all.

I’m an Omega. And I want to engage in the ritual .

It’s how we’ll win back Monsterland. Break through whatever spell this female Alpha has woven over the kingdom. And demolish her illusions.

Expose the Imposter King.

Although, I’m questioning how much he’s behind all of this now.

Heart seems to be the mastermind.

How long has she been Baroness Clarice? Did she know I was an Omega the whole time?

The answer to the latter question is likely yes. Which means she knew Krolic and Catum were in my district. She let them take me away.

Why? I wonder.

Or perhaps… perhaps they thwarted her original plans by reacting quickly. Maybe she didn’t mean for them to take me at all.

Which would suggest she never accounted for how much they would tell me, how much I now know.

From what I’ve gathered of her, she thinks little of Omegas. She wants me to supplicate. She doesn’t see me as a queen. Or respect me as her equal.

“She’s fully aware of her position,” she said to Tav earlier. There was a hint of pride in that statement, almost as though she was pleased that she’d taught me to be inferior.

She no doubt assumes it worked since I’m acquiescing and trailing after her like a good little pet. That I clearly bought her story and believe none of my “dream” was real.

Oh, it was very real , I think at her. But this place is not.

We’re outside now, and I can taste the difference in the air. There’s something sweet nearby. Floral. Like roses , I think, inhaling. I’ve only caught that aroma once—when Master Pillar brought a vase of them to sit on the altar.

I remember sneaking up to inhale the pretty flower, curious as to what they smelled like. It was my first time seeing roses in person, and these were particularly unique, as they were purple.

Why am I smelling roses now? I wonder, scanning the drab countryside of the mountain. There are no flowers nearby.

The closest sunflower field is almost a mile away.

I glance toward the forest edge where I would normally run, and frown when I find it missing. Narrowing my gaze, I realize there are a lot of details that don’t exist here. Just like the lock on the window in the basement.

It’s an imperfect mirage .

So what happens if I run toward something I know to be inaccurate?

I bite my lip, considering if I should make my move. It will blow my obedient cover, but what else am I going to do? Follow her all the way to whatever ceremony she has in mind?

No.

No, I will not be doing that.

Because I know what it’ll do. Catum purposely diluted my dose. I won’t be countering his work, not until I’m certain the ritual will be honored.

It’s my due as an Omega. My fate. And I accept that path.

Swallowing, I glance at the baroness, note that she’s walking with purpose toward the chapel. The details of it are perfect.

But the forest edge still isn’t.

Particularly the place I ran through during my escape after the ceremony.

She didn’t see it , I realize. Which means she didn’t anticipate it .

Something Catum, Krolic, and Craze did threw off her game.

Or maybe… it was simply me .

She’s aware of their skills, has engaged in a careful strategy against them. But I’m an unknown.

What was it that pink-haired man said?

“You’re the new player on the board, the unknown queen. You have the power to fix all of this.”

By declaring I want a ritual, I add.

But I have to be heard.

I have to be seen.

And I can’t accomplish that in this illusion.

Time to run…

I don’t second-guess my instinct; I merely bolt toward the forest.

Baroness Clarice never spent time in there. She won’t know the details like I do. It should be enough for me to burst through her mirage and finally see what’s all around me. To finally embrace Monsterland and all its mayhem.

The Alpha in disguise roars behind me.

But I don’t obey her. I don’t listen. I don’t submit .

Kicking off the stupid, ill-fitting flats, I run faster. Harder. And burst through the tree line into a land of roses.

I knew it!

Only it’s an endless sea of colors and hedges, the maze sprawling before me in chaotic twists and turns.

It’s not a courtyard, but it’s also no longer hidden from my view.

I take off alongside it, eager to find more, to locate a central place, to take advantage of what the pink-haired man said about there being eyes and ears everywhere.

I have a declaration I need to make.

A request that can’t be denied.

Ritual. Ritual. Ritual. The word repeats in my head with each step, reaching a crescendo as I find a set of ornate stairs that seem to lead to a break in the maze.

The rose garden–like hedges part around the bottom, forming an oval wall of sorts with several arched openings. But the area before it is a massive fountain, one that can be reached if I descend the grand staircase.

It’s not a courtyard. At least, not in the traditional sense. However, there’s nothing traditional about this place.

And it looks official with the stone statues decorating the fountain area.

This has to be it.

I take a step, only for a blur of white to catch my attention out of the corner of my eye. I spin toward it, my lips parting at the sight maybe ten yards from where I stand.

“Beast,” I breathe, instantly running in his direction.

But when I’m just a few feet away, he darts away from me, leading me to another staircase, one that goes up.

My stomach twists, the direction not feeling right.

But it’s Krolic as his wolf. He’s clearly trying to show me something.

I ascend a few stairs, his name on the tip of my tongue when his scent curls around me.

My steps slow and I inhale deeply, expecting to be overwhelmed by his woodsy cologne. Only… I smell ash instead. Like a burning tree.

I frown.

The scent is all wrong.

Beast pauses at the stop of the stairs, his green eyes holding an expectant look to them.

Krolic’s commentary about how Crimson masquerades as the Silver King whispers through my mind.

Except this scent doesn’t belong to Tav, either. He reminded me of sandalwood oil, and this fragrance is reminiscent of what happens when a tree burns.

Was I wrong about Tav being Crimson? Is this the Crimson King?

I shiver and take a step back down.

The wolf growls in response.

Not Beast.

I turn and run back down, then sprint for the other staircase.

I should have followed my instincts. But I let this wolf distract me.

I can feel him bounding after me, his scent all wrong.

“I want the ritual!” I start yelling, terrified that he’s going to catch me first. “I want to be?—”

Something hard hits me from behind, knocking me forward.

I don’t think; I roll with it, letting the momentum take me down the hill alongside the grand stairs.

Sharp thorns catch on my dress, tearing the too-tight fabric. But I don’t care. I let it rip as I spin all the way down and land on a gravel path that frames the rose maze.

Snarls erupt near my head.

I ignore them, pushing through the agony to shove to my feet and run barefoot across the rocks toward the fountain statues.

“I’m Ailsa Marvel!” I shout, my heart hammering in my chest and in my years. “I’m an Omega! And I want the ritual! Hunt me!”

I have no idea if what I’m saying is even correct. But I keep shouting it as I reach the fountain, only to be tackled to the cobblestone-covered ground by a raging wolf.

He snarls in my face as Baroness Clarice snarls, “Foolish girl.” She’s walking down the stairs, her clacking heels echoing throughout the fountain. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

She’s seething. I can feel her fury like a hot wave to my senses, the weight of it almost more intense than that of the wolf on top of me.

The animal growls, his snout lowering to my neck to open his jaws along my throat.

I freeze, the dominant gesture intimidating in the worst way. If this were Krolic, I would tilt my head to the side in submission. But this Alpha isn’t Krolic. He’s an unknown. A foreign rival. And not my mate.

Someone tsks in the distance, the sound an echo around us that has the wolf snarling against my neck.

“Ah, ah, ah. You know the rules, Spaten,” a voice singsongs.

The pink-haired man , I recognize, swallowing.

“The Omega has requested the ritual. So all of Monsterland kind has been invited out to play, and I don’t think they’ll be very pleased by you demanding her submission before the games even begin.”

“ You ,” the baroness hisses. “You’ve been meddling. I told you what would happen if?—”

“Your threats are unnecessary, Queen of Hearts,” he inserts coolly. “A new round has begun. You and I will continue our dance should you win.”

She growls, the sound of it vibrating the stone beneath me as the wolf echoes the sound against my throat.

Then a louder, more intense growl rumbles the earth as the familiar scent of cedar washes over me.

Beast.

My Beast.

Krolic… is here.