Pan and Bash and Kas are drunk. Very drunk. They’re currently shooting rocks out into the ocean in a giant slingshot. I think they’re competing for some kind of prize though it’s not clear what it is or how you win it.
All three of them are trying to forget about their problems in the most human way possible.
And as I sit there high up on the shore and watch them drown their sorrows, I feel tugged away from the revelry.
It’s easy to slip off.
I follow the path from the house into the woods. I don’t have a destination but my feet seem to carry me in the right direction anyway and I’m not entirely surprised to find myself at the edge of the glowing lagoon.
I am, however, surprised to see Vane floating in the water, face toward the sky.
And he’s naked.
All of the air surges out of me in an annoying little gasp and I swear my voice echoes over the lagoon.
“You just going to stand there and gape or get in?” Vane says, his eyes still closed, his body still buoyant in the water.
I swallow.
Is this some kind of trick? Like I get in the water and he gets out just to prove some kind of vague point?
I kick off my shoes at the mouth of the path and sink my toes into the cool sand. I want to get in the water so badly it makes my skin itch. But I can’t tell if it’s the water and the spirits and the magic calling to me or one very dark and broody Death Shadow.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
My movements are frenzied and clumsy as I slip off my dress and my panties because if Vane is naked, I will be too.
Eyes still closed, he doesn’t bother to ogle me like most men would and it annoys me more than I’d like to admit. I can’t help but feel like a desperate, eager girl dying for one sliver of his attention.
“Do they bite?” I say when my feet hit the water and the spirits of the lagoon twist and turn.
“No,” he answers. “Not if they like you.”
My heart ka-thuds against my ear drums.
The water is warm at the shore but grows more refreshing the deeper I get. The spirits or mermaids or whatever they are swim back and forth in front of me, tails glowing and twirling like the feathery tails of koi fish.
How far do I go? How close to Vane do I get? Will he even allow me to get close?
The sandy bottom gets colder and colder so I take to swimming once I’m deep enough and the water rushes up around my shoulders, soaking the ends of my hair.
When I’m a few yards off from Vane, I stop and tread water by kicking my feet and dragging my arms back and forth. It reminds me of lazy afternoons on the beach when Mom and I lived in a touristy oceanside town. The beach days were my best memories because Mom always seemed to relax on the sand. She loved letting the sun bake her skin while I took a fistful of sand and let it leak out in a stream over her toes, burying her grain by grain.
Knowing what I know now—that she was pregnant with me on Neverland and that she found solace in the lagoon—makes me recognize the settling in her when we were on the water.
It must have reminded her of the soothing waters of this magical place. Just wading in here in the bright turquoise makes me feel wholly better. In fact, the cut on my foot is no longer throbbing.
Perhaps my mother and I were always trying to return to this place, looking for relief for some ache we could not name.
Vane floats in the center of the lagoon, his cock just cresting the water, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. I am ogling him. He is letting me.
Out of the four of them, he is the biggest by far.
Somehow, I knew he would be. Without thinking, I can hear Starla in the back of my mind. Big dick energy, that one. It almost makes me snicker. Mostly because I’m nervous.
As the water laps against Vane, it fills up the deep ridges between his ab muscles and the V along his hips, then flows back out. He may not be as muscular as the twins or Pan, but he more than makes up for it in not having an ounce of body fat. It makes him look more myth than man, as if he were born of the gods themselves.
Finally, he rights himself and whips his head around, shaking the water from his hair. Several fat drops roll down the wavy lines of his scars, down the cut of his cheekbones.
When he faces me, his violet eye reflects the turquoise of the lagoon, making it glow.
The water is still warm but I can’t stop shivering and my nipples are so taut it almost hurts.
I’ve been craving Vane’s attention since Pan brought me to Neverland, but now that I have it and have him alone, I don’t know what to do with him.
He is bigger than me and I’m not talking size.
Presence. Power. Energy.
It’s hard not to be overwhelmed by him and maybe that’s why I turn into a sputtering dork.
“It’s a nice night. I like swimming. In water. All water really.”
Fuck.
What the hell am I doing?
More droplets follow the bridge of his nose and drip from the end. He just stares at me as the water ripples around us. I slow my feet, letting my body sink lower as if I can hide in the water. It sways around my mouth and when a little sneaks in, I don’t taste salt. It’s clean and crisp.
“Why are you here, Darling?” he asks, his rough voice reverberating across the lagoon.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I was drawn here, I think.”
He comes closer, running a hand through his hair, and it sticks up along his forehead. I’ve never seen him this disheveled and it’s hot as fuck.
My belly clenches.
“Why are you here?” I counter.
“To get away from you.”
The dejection is swift and sour.
“Why? What have I done to make you hate me so damn much?”
“I don’t understand you,” he says and narrows his eyes, comes closer. “I don’t like things I don’t understand.”
“I’m not a thing. I’m a person.”
“A naughty Darling girl.”
But he doesn’t say it like he’s teasing. There’s pain in his words, like he’s afraid of what I might do, what trouble I might get into and I’m immediately reminded of what he said to me the night Tilly got inside my head and he carted me off to safety.
“Where I come from, little girls like you are broken every day for no other reason than to watch them crack. And I’m fucking sick of it.”
“Tell me about your island.”
He blinks and reels back, suddenly on guard. “Why?”
“Because I want to know where you come from and why you are the way you are.”
A glowing shape circles behind him.
“If you’re looking for redeeming qualities within me, you’ll be disappointed.”
“No. I only want the truth.”
The shape darts away when Vane sinks back into the water and dips his head, soaking his hair again. “My home island is called Darkland and it is exactly what it sounds like.”
A dark land for a Dark One.
“Why did you leave?”
“Because there was nothing left for me there.”
“No family?”
Above us, the sky turns dark as thick clouds roll in. The water is suddenly warmer than the air.
“I had a family once,” he admits. “Until I didn’t.”
Oh god.
Maybe there were more clues in what he said to me that night in his bed.
Little girls like you are broken every day…
“Who was she?”
He says nothing again, letting the silence grow weightier between us.
I take a guess. “A sister. You had a sister.”
“We did.”
“What happened?”
“Some very bad men did some very bad things and then she died.” He says it in such a cold, detached tone of voice that I can’t help but immediately feel a pang of sympathy for him.
Vane pretends he is unaffected but I think he might feel this pain more than any of the others would.
A lump wedges in my throat and I swallow back twice to try to dislodge it. “That’s awful. Truly.”
“She’s better off dead,” he says.
“Could you not…I mean…you have the Death Shadow…”
“I didn’t at the time.” His brow furrows, his gaze faraway. I know what he’s thinking—he couldn’t protect her.
“How did you get the shadow?”
“Easy,” he says, “I spent three years searching for it and when I found it, I claimed it. And then I gutted every single one of them.”
Them. The men who hurt his sister.
“Good,” I say with more venom than I intended. “How were you able to claim the shadow? Are you not human?”
He laughs and shakes his head.
Now I’m very curious. “So what are you?”
“Does it matter?”
“Maybe?”
He swims back toward me, cut shoulders moving gracefully in the water. “If I give back my shadow, maybe it will matter then. Maybe I’ll tell you.”
Frustration bubbles up inside of me. He’s cutting me off again. Maybe I should just—
Something skims the bottom of my feet and I yelp and lurch back.
Right into Vane’s arms.
My heart gets lodged behind my teeth. Every nerve is blinking brightly. His hands are on my waist, holding me up, and I can feel his strong thighs treading the water beneath us keeping us above the surface.
I’m finding it harder and harder to take a full breath.
“Why do you hate me, Vane?” I ask again, quieter this time. I’m unable to hide the desperation in my voice. I need to know just as much as he wants to figure me out.
“I don’t hate you,” he admits and levels me with his violet eye. “I dislike the way you make me feel.”
“Which is how?”
His gaze drops to my lips as my tongue darts out. “Reckless.” He drags me closer and our legs tangle and a thrill slips down my spine. “Dangerous,” he adds and frowns at the bruises still marring my throat.
“I told you already once before—”
“Yes, I know Darling. You’re stronger than you look.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” I say, thinking I’m hitting on the past wound of losing his sister.
“I don’t want to protect you,” he says, his voice rumbling, “I want to fuck you until you tremble beneath me.” He guides my legs around his waist, and my opening is lined up with his now hard cock.
I pant out a little mewl of delight.
“So why don’t you?” I ask.
“Because those bruises on your neck would be the least of your worries.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’d get no safe word from me.”
“Fine. I understand.”
“No, you fucking don’t.”
I’m breathing much too quickly. I think I’m oxygen deprived at this point because I can’t think straight, can barely see straight.
“Just fuck me already.”
I’m breaking my rule, and Pan’s. I’m trying too hard.
The head of Vane’s cock teases at my opening and my heart rate picks up.
“Vane,” I say on a breath. “Just do—”
He kisses me. And there is nothing soft or kind or gentle about it. His lips are on mine, devouring me. His tongue darts in, claiming the taste of me and a deep growl sounds in his chest.
He grabs my ass, forcing my pussy up to meet his cock and he sinks in an inch.
“Oh my god,” I say around his lips because my brain isn’t making a single connection to my mouth. This is what I wanted. Every single part of it. I don’t care how dangerous he is or how painful it might be or—
He arches my back, bringing my breast above water so he can suck my nipple into his mouth.
Both of his eyes are black and a shiver shakes through my shoulders.
He’s rough with me, biting at me, and I cry out at the sky.
When I look back down, blood is swirling in the turquoise water and beading on the peak of my nipple.
With fire in his eyes, Vane drags his tongue over me, cleaning off the redness and then he nips again, breaking open the skin even more.
The pain catches me off guard and tears spring in my eyes. One escapes, trailing down my cheek.
Vane goes still.
I wiggle my hips, trying to claim more of his cock, but he roughly shoves me off.
“What are you doing?”
“Go.” He points me toward the shore.
“What?”
“Get out of the water.” He’s visibly trembling. “Get out and walk away. Slowly.”
“No. I—”
His black hair goes white and his voice takes on a sinister hollowness. “Get the fuck out of here, Darling.”
I shrink back.
“Go,” he says again. “Right fucking now.”
Heart still lodged in my throat, my heart sinking to my navel, I trudge toward shore and then slowly step from the water. Vane is stalking me and goosebumps pop on my arms as I feel him at my back.
The thought of him fighting his inner demons not to claim me makes me wet and tingly.
I scoop up my dress and pull it on over my head and look at him over my shoulder.
He’s inching closer. He’s telling me to leave, but I don’t think his shadow wants me to. Maybe he doesn’t either.
“Walk away,” he tells me.
“What if I don’t want to? I can make my own decisions, you know.”
“Darling, I won’t tell you again.”
I swallow hard and stumble back and he takes three quick steps closer as if to catch me. Even gone to the shadow, he’s still cognizant of my safety.
And it suddenly clicks, the real secret to unraveling Vane.
I was wrong about him, but so was Peter Pan. It’s not that I have to try harder or try less. It’s that I have to be exactly who I am. Every ugly, broken part.
I have to be vulnerable and maybe that terrifies me most of all.
Show him all of my cracks and let him make his own on my skin.
I have endured.
I can endure him if it’s the only way I can have him.
He must read something in my body because he slowly shakes his head, grits his teeth, and says, “Winnie. Don’t.”
But he couldn’t stop me if he tried.
I turn around and run.
