There is a massive wolf lying on the bed beside me. Heat radiates off of him. He turns his head to me, peers at me with bright blue eyes.
Kas and Bash are beside me in an instant. “It’s all right,” Kas says. “Apparently he likes you. Came straight to your bed this morning and wouldn’t leave your side.”
I instantly feel a connection to the wolf. And I swear he says to me, It’s going to be all right.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and try to shake the fogginess from my brain.
Am I still dreaming?
In fact…
“Did you two bring me to bed?” I ask the twins.
They shake their heads. “You don’t remember?” Bash asks.
“Not entirely. I remember the pirates and Vane and Cherry and then…”
Why can’t I remember anything after that? I’ve been blackout drunk before, I’m almost certain I didn’t drink after the pirates.
Cherry asked for my help, but after that, everything is a muddy blur.
“Wait,” I say. “Did Pan get his shadow?”
The twins grin.
“He did.” I breathe out with a sigh of relief. “Thank god. Where is he?” I throw the sheet back and set my bare feet to the floor.
“I suspect he went out to greet the sunlight,” Kas says.
“And Vane?” I ask.
Bash rolls his eyes and picks at a torn fingernail. “Brooding as usual. As if he has anything to brood about.”
He says this dismissively, but I get the distinct sense there is more he’s left out.
I go to him, or no…that’s not it, exactly. I feel pulled to him. I feel like I need to…reassure him?
I can feel him.
Which is odd.
It’s this distant hum of energy not unlike the hum I’d feel when Mom and I lived beneath a major power line in Wisconsin.
There’s still blood smattered across Bash’s face, red blood and blood that glitters like fish scales. I remember their sister using us as hostages.
I sense the twins’ hurt but they won’t speak of it and it’s weird to sense it, isn’t it? Or is this some new dynamic between us? Some kind of empathetic power now that the Never King has his shadow back?
I don’t know what Neverland is supposed to feel like with the Never King whole again.
I reach up on tiptoes and wrap my arms around Bash’s neck. “I’m sorry your sister did that to you,” I tell him.
He’s stiff for a second before he melts into the embrace and breathes out, his shoulders drooping.
And then I go to Kas and hug him too. He doesn’t shy away from the affection and his hair slides around us, tickling my arms. “It’s all right, Darling,” he says. “We’ll be all right.”
I pull away and take his gorgeous face in my hands. His dark brow is furrowed over his bright, golden eyes. “I know you’ll be all right but I know what it is to be betrayed by those who love you.”
He nods.
I catch the barest shift in their demeanors. Just a sliver of the hurt ebbing out.
We still have work to do for the twins and the fae court, but first…
“Where is the Never King? Is he different with his shadow? I want to see.”
“Just as domineering as ever,” Bash says with a grunt. “I’d check the beach.”
I make my way to the hall but stop in the bedroom doorway. “Will you make us pancakes? To celebrate?” My stomach growls at the mention of food. I’m starving and even better, I have an appetite. “I’ll go fetch the Never King while you go pick cloudberries? Sound good?”
The twins look at one another and I hear the distant chiming of bells.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say and then head into the hall.
I had intended to go to Pan alone, but I hear the distant clicking of wolf nails on the hardwood floor as I leave.
The loft is empty when I come out, but the birds are chirping loudly in the Never Tree.
“Good morning,” I tell them and several take flight from the branches and follow me in a swirl of feathers and a flap of wings.
The wolf comes up alongside me.
I’ve never had a pet. Well…scratch that. I did have a stray cat at one of our apartments years ago. I fed it dollar store tuna fish straight out of the can. He stuck around for a few months until winter set in and then I never saw him again.
I sure as hell never had a wolf.
“Why are you following me?” I ask him as I open the doors that lead to the balcony.
I don’t expect the wolf to answer me, but somehow, I sense his response.
Protection.
I stop and look down at him. He cranes his neck to meet my gaze.
“Did you just talk to me?”
His long, bushy tail wags behind him.
“This is the strangest morning I’ve had yet in Neverland and I was once chained to a bed.”
I go down the steps and the wolf follows and then he keeps following me as I cross the backyard.
We stop at the end of the dirt path when I spot Peter Pan on the sandy shoreline facing the ocean where the sun is just starting to cast a ribbon of fire on the horizon line.
I look down at the wolf. “Time to go,” I tell him.
No, he says back.
“I’m talking to a wolf,” I mutter. “Maybe I’m dead.” Then, “If you’re here for protection, I am no safer with you than I am with Peter Pan.”
The wolf blinks up at me.
“Go on,” I tell him again. “I need this moment alone with him.”
And then we both turn our attention to Pan, to the line of his back against the glowing ocean waves.
Fine. The wolf trots off into the underbrush and I go down to the shoreline.
When I come around to stand between Pan and the lapping ocean waves, I find his eyes closed, his arms around his knees. “Sit,” he orders me.
There is a faint spark of something in the center of my chest that feels like a knowing that should have a name, but doesn’t.
Like I’ve walked into a city I’ve never visited but yet somehow know where all the roads lead.
“He’s hovering,” Pan says, his eyes still closed. “I can feel him everywhere, even on you.”
It takes me a second to realize he means the wolf.
In the line of ferns and palm fronds on the edge of the beach, there is a flash of black fur.
“He said he’d give us some privacy.”
Pan peeks at me with one eye. “You’re talking to wolves now, are you?”
I shrug. “It would seem so.”
“Sit, Darling.”
I cross my legs and sit. He’s warm beside me, just like the wolf, and there is a new energy surrounding him that I swear I can feel vibrating on my skin.
Everything is buzzing and for some reason, I feel like I’m not entirely in my own skin.
“You got your shadow,” I say.
“I did.”
“And how do you feel?”
A breath escapes him through his nose and then he bows his head. “I thought I would feel relief. I do feel relief. But…” He pops his head back up and squints at the horizon line.
“But what?”
“Once you know you can lose something, it’s hard to dismiss the fear that you could lose it again.”
I understand him, in a way. It wasn’t that long ago that I was terrified of losing my mind.
But power is another thing. And I can’t help but think about the conversation I had with Vane about the mighty oak. I had convinced myself I was the oak tree, resilient and determined, but knowing these powerful men, I realize I can barely understand the concept of power.
I am the tree with a bent and twisted trunk, trying to stretch herself to better light, so fragile that in every storm, her boughs creak and her roots cling to the earth praying it’s enough to keep her in the ground.
The bare minimum is all I know.
I have never been powerful.
I lean into Pan and hook my arm through his, rest my head on his shoulder and try to convince him that I know a thing or two about any of this. “This time will be different.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am. There’s no Tinkerbell now.”
He tsks. “Yes but there is soon to be a Crocodile.”
“I’m sure Vane can help us deal with his brother.”
Pan nods.
We turn our attention to the ocean and the brightening morning sky. Shades of pink and lavender and yellow and orange burst across the thin, wispy clouds. A flock of seagulls fly past.
Somewhere nearby, I can hear a ticking.
“What’s that sound?”
Pan frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Like a clock.”
He gives me a suspicious look, and then leans back and digs into his pocket and produces a pocket watch without a chain. “This?”
The ticking is louder now that it has nothing to shield it. I take the timepiece and turn it over in my hand to find delicate filigree engraved on the front side and script writing on the back.
I read the back. “The Bone Society?”
Pan looks over at it. “Yes. Purported to be the inventors of time. They are the only clock makers in the Seven Isles.”
“Interesting.”
“Not really.”
“Anything called The Bone Society is interesting. Why that name?”
“I don’t know. I never cared to ask. Time means nothing to me.”
I press the button at the top of the watch and the frontside pops open revealing the clockface inside.
The hands read 7:02.
“Is the time correct?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“So how would you—”
“Shhh, Darling,” he says and takes the watch and snaps it shut. “Look.”
The first sliver of the sun breaks over the horizon and Peter Pan exhales.
I’ve seen hundreds of sunrises. They’re all remarkable, I’ll give them that, because every one is different.
But I don’t care about this one.
Instead of watching the light, I watch Peter Pan.
The fine lines around his eyes tighten as he squints. His mouth breaks open, his lips wet and then a little wrinkle appears between his brows as he fills up his lungs and holds it in.
His eyes glisten.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispers.
“It is,” I say.
He looks over at me and his gaze sinks to my mouth.
“I missed you,” he admits.
“More than the sun?” I counter.
He laughs and brings my hand to his mouth and gently kisses the backside. “I’ve missed the light and I’ve missed the warmth, but both pale in comparison to you, Darling.”
“You get your shadow back and now you’re a romantic?” I’m teasing him, but hearing the seriousness in his voice is making my stomach swim.
There is no way to tame a man like Peter Pan and yet I feel like I’ve been gifted a part of him that no one else has and that might be the most profound thing I’ve ever possessed when I’ve possessed so little.
“Romantic,” he says with a dismissive air. “In the light, I will treat you like a queen, but in the dark, you will be my whore.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. “I’d like that.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Very much.”
His gaze is turning hungry, his touch on my skin more demanding and I can’t help but react to him because I am always reacting to him.
Doubly so, right now, apparently. Because I can feel his growing desire. It’s not just vibrating on the air, but somehow sinking into my belly and my chest and between my legs.
“I know you’re enjoying your first sunrise in like eons, but how would you feel about returning to the dark for a little while?” I ask.
On a breath, his nostrils flare and then he’s crashing into me, his mouth on mine. His kiss is devouring and his tongue darts out to meet me, then pushes in, tasting all of me.
“To have you without my shadow was a divine treat,” he says against my mouth and then kisses me again, nipping at my bottom lip. “To have you with my shadow might very well undo me.” He pushes me back into the sand and covers my body with his. He’s hard in an instant, digging against me and I realize I’m relieved that he still wants me even though he no longer needs a Darling to save him.
I rip off his shirt and he tears off my dress. I let my hands wander over every hard ridge of his body. He is made of stone, his skin hot as the sun warms us both.
“I want to fuck you while the sun rises,” he says.
“Then what are you waiting for?” I ask a little breathless.
He unzips his pants and I immediately feel the burn of his cock at my opening.
My belly swims as our kiss deepens and he thrusts inside of me.
I gasp.
“Already so wet for me, Darling,” he says, sounding impressed.
He thrusts again and picks up his tempo, fucking me hard into the sand, his cock thick inside of me and then—
He stops and pulls out of me, leaving me instantly chilled and hollow.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He wraps his arms around me and lifts me into the air.
“Oh my god! Pan!” I tighten my hold around his neck as he flies us back to the house and into the kitchen.
We burst through the doors. He walks me back into the nearest wall and lifts me up, guiding my legs around his hips. He fucks me against the wall, grunting into me with each thrust. Then he carries us away, turns into the next room, bumps into the table and sends a vase toppling to its side. Water spills off the edge.
His mouth finds mine again and our tongues slide over one another, heat and hunger and destruction in one long breath.
But then he bumps into the coffee table, spins us at the last second so when we land on the floor, it’s he on his back and me impaled on his cock.
And then we look up to find Vane in one of the leather chairs, a book open in his lap, a glass of something dark in his hand.
I wiggle my hips like I mean to lift off Pan, but he catches me around the waist and keeps me on his cock. “Ah-ah,” he warns.
Vane’s eyes are suddenly black.
“Enjoying yourself, are you, Darling?” Vane asks, but there’s a bit of sarcasm in his voice.
“I would be enjoying myself more if you joined us.”
Pan lifts me just a few inches off of him, then pushes me roughly back down eliciting a squeak from my throat.
Vane sits forward. “Why weren’t you in the tomb?”
“Vane,” Pan says, the head of his dick swelling at my center. “I’m buried inside our Darling. Must we do this now?”
“Answer the question, Winnie Darling,” Vane says.
“I can’t remember,” I say.
Vane stands up, grabs me by the throat and rips me off of Pan. Pan growls his frustration.
“Why did you disregard my order?” Vane’s shadow rumbles in the back of his throat.
I wrap my hand around his wrist trying to get some leverage on him. I’m on my tiptoes and completely naked. I don’t have much to play with here.
When Vane’s dark eyes land on me, I tense up, ready for the terror, the unease, the nausea rolling in my gut.
But there is none.
And Vane’s gaze narrows to slits. “Are you bleeding?” he asks and looks me up and down.
“No.”
“Then how are you withstanding the terror?”
“Maybe she’s learned to ignore your bullshit,” Pan says behind me.
“No one learns to withstand me.”
Pan puts his chest to my back and slowly pulls me away from Vane and replaces Vane’s hand with his, his long fingers halfway around my throat.
“Just look at her for me,” Pan says, his other hand kneading at my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers.
I hiss out and squeeze my thighs together as the pain sinks to pleasure in my clit.
“Look at our Darling whore, naked and ready for us.” He leaves my breast and slides his hand down my stomach, over my clit, tightening his grip on my throat when I buck beneath him. When his fingers slide down my wetness, we can all hear the proof of my arousal.
“This wet cunt is begging to be fucked.”
Vane’s nostrils flare and he edges closer. His eyes are still black, but there’s new interest in his body. I can see the hard ridge of him in his pants.
“Shove your cock inside of her,” Pan goes on, dragging the tip of his nose up the side of my neck so his next words are a warm breath on the sensitive flesh of my ear. “And when she’s screaming your name, I’ll shove my cock in her mouth to shut her up.”
Dark desire swirls in my gut. My clit is needy and swollen now, but Pan has flattened his palm over me, caging me against him.
“Let’s use her, Vane. You and me.”
God I want that.
I want to be surrounded by their violence and their sin.
My inner walls clench at the thought and I get up on tip toes just to steal any bit of movement I can against Pan’s hand on my pussy.
“Naughty Darling girl,” he whispers in my ear and I am suddenly mindless beneath his command.
“Please, Pan,” I say, eyes slipping closed.
“Please what, Darling?”
“I…I want…”
He sinks two fingers inside of me and then uses his thumb to tease my clit.
I moan, leaning into him.
When he brings his wet fingers up to my mouth and roughly coats me with my own juices, Vane’s hair goes white.
“What do you say, Dark One?” Pan asks. “Let’s treat our slut the way she should be treated.”
Vane strips in seconds and then he’s ripping me away from Pan a second later.
He whirls me around, winds an arm around my waist, and then sits us down together in one of the leather chairs so we’re both facing Pan.
There is a dark hunger on Peter Pan’s face as Vane hooks my legs over his knees and spreads me wide for Pan just as he shoves his thick cock inside of me.
