Alice's plan to overthrow the Queen of Hearts is thwarted by a dashing pirate with a hook. Years later, after the curse is broken, they reunite once again.
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Panting, we finally reach the top. Once my feet are on solid ground, I take in my surroundings. We're in a large courtyard scattered with the bones of many giants. The sight sets my nerves on edge. The ceiling towers like a skyscraper, and this room alone spans nearly half a mile.
"What happened here?" Emma whispers, looking around the ruins with wide eyes.
"It's where the final battle was." Hook informs her.
I walk past him, continuing to look around in astonishment. These are the kind of places Andy and I would sail to. Old ruins. Historic places people didn't dare to enter.
"Looks like they were trying to escape," I comment under my breath.
"Give me your hand." Hook says.
I look over my shoulder at him, raising a brow.
"Hm?"
I look down at my hand and see where his hook tore through my palm. A deep red gash splits the center of my palm, one that will most certainly scar.
"Your hand was cut by my hook, let me help." He insists, walking over to me with an outstretched hand.
"It's fine, it's just a scratch."
I shrug, taking a step back. Why is he making such a big deal of this? I turn around, but he gently grabs my upper arm. My whole body tenses.
"No, it's not." He tells me with an expression that leaves no room for argument.
"Alice, he's right. You'll need your hand for the climb back down." Emma chimes in.
Traitor.
"Very well," I say reluctantly.
Hook slides his hand down my arm, gently turning the back of my hand into his palm. I can feel where every inch of his skin touches mine. I force my eyes to stay on the pool of blood forming in my palm. A single trail of the liquid spills over the side onto his hand. He doesn't notice. Or he doesn't care. Hook takes out a piece of cloth.
"Besides, giants can smell blood." He says with an arrogant smile.
He takes out a bottle of what I'm assuming is alcohol, taking the cork out with his teeth. He pours some onto my hand without warning. I hiss under my breath and instinctively pull my hand away, but his grip is firm.
The corners of my mouth lift at the familiar smell.
"Rum? A bit cliché, don't you think?" I say with a playful smile, looking up at him from under my lashes.
My voice is softer than I intend. If he weren't standing so close, he wouldn't be able to hear me. He gives me a crooked grin, and I quickly avert my gaze.
My chest tightens, sharp and unwelcome. I've stood close to men before without issue. I stand close to Andy without issue. No sudden awareness, no tightening in my chest, no instinct to count the inches between us. This is different, and I don't like it one bit.
