The Never King (Vicious Lost Boys #1)(45)

It’s just me and the Darling.

“You’re home now,” I tell her. “Thank you for helping me.” I hold out my hand for the box.

She tucks it beneath her arm.

“Darling,” I say, not bothering to hide the warning from my voice.

“Take me back with you.”

“What?”

“Take me back.”

“Why?”

She looks around the carnage and frowns.

“There’s more than just the shadow,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“I…I don’t know. It’s nothing more than a gut instinct. But when Tilly got inside my head…”

“Yes?”

“I think she’s plotting something. Against you.”

“It would seem so.” Like mother like daughter, apparently.

“So maybe I can help. I helped you find your shadow.”

My first instinct is to leave her here. Whatever is waiting for me in Neverland, it won’t be good.

“You’ll be safer here.”

Her gaze hardens. “Safer is not what I want.”

I have a sudden flash of bending her over the table. Pretty Darling girl wants dark, vile things done to her.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t want that too.

I want her wet cunt wrapped around my cock.

The moment I met her, I knew she was different. I don’t know what it is about her but it reminds me of something old and forgotten.

“I have rules,” I tell her. “Rules that are meant to be followed.”

She smiles sweetly up at me and I know already that she’ll be trouble if I bring her back.

“I can follow rules.”

“Yes, but will you?”

Vane returns and lifts another Brownie onto his shoulder. “Twins have a hole dug already.”

I nod. If he thinks I’m burying dead bodies, he’s sorely mistaken.

“Bring me back with you,” Darling says again.

We’ve always been a house of cold, hard edges…would it be so bad to have someone with soft curves, someone to share? Fuck her and make her quiver, make her beg for Lost Boy cum.

I am not a nice man and I want to do very bad things to her. And with my shadow, the possibilities are endless.

“Fine,” I tell her. “You can come back with me.”

She smiles triumphantly up at me.

“Don’t get cocky.”

“I won’t. I’ll just get cock.”

“Darling girl with a filthy mouth. Now come, let us go supervise the burying of Brownies while the night is still young.”

“First,” she says and holds out the box. “I think this belongs to you.”

In all the years I’ve been searching for my shadow, I could never feel it. I ached for it, but where it used to be was nothing but a void.

I can sense it now.

The writhing energy of it trapped in that box.

I reach out and take it.

“Thank you.”

She smiles. “You’re welcome, Peter Pan.”





32





WINNIE


There’s something about Mom now that feels settled. Like if she were a top, all of the spin has gone out of her and she’s finally sitting still.

The moonlight shines on the macabre scene in our backyard. There is a giant hole in the center where bodies are starting to pile up.

“Isn’t this risky?” I ask. And also…I can’t believe I’m in my backyard with two fae princes, a myth, and a shadow of death burying bodies six feet in the ground.

I don’t know how or when I became a person that took this all in with no issue.

“Don’t worry, Darling,” Kas says. “Brownies turn to dust within a week.”

As the boys finish up the dirty work, I turn to Mom. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, baby?” She is paler than when I left her, but her face is clean, as is her hair, so clearly she’s been taking care of herself without me to look after her.

“I’m going back,” I tell her. “To Neverland.”

Her eyes are on me but I’m never entirely sure if she’s seeing me.

“Do you want to come with me?”

I didn’t run this past Pan, but I don’t care. The house has many spare rooms. There’s plenty of room for her.

“Come to Neverland?” she asks and looks back at the boys. Bash is shirtless and is shoveling dirt in, all of the corded muscle in his back working overtime.

God, he is a sight. A fae prince who I think might be mine. I can’t be sure yet. I don’t know what the rules are about all that, but there’s plenty of time to figure it out.

One thing I am absolutely sure of is that I will fight anyone who thinks they can take him from me.

I might have only scratched the surface of who Peter Pan and the Lost Boys are, but instinct never lies and they feel like mine.

They are mine.

“I don’t think I want to,” Mom says.

“Really?”

“I…here…listen—”

“I’m listening, Mom.”

“I like it here.” She glances up at the house painted in broad strokes of moonlight. “I feel better.”