Their Vicious Darling (Vicious Lost Boys #3)(53)

He looks back up at me. “Your…eyes,” he says and then collapses to the rocky slope of the mountainside, one last breath gasping out of him.

And I turn to Vane, to Holt and his remaining men, just as Holt plants his boot on Vane’s chest and kicks him over the edge of the cliff.





34





WINNIE


“No!” I screech.

I’m running.

I’m running with no thought of the consequences of my actions.

None of it matters.

Nothing matters if any of us are gone.

“Vane!”

I shove through the men, heart hammering in my ears, and leap off the cliff’s edge.

The wind rushes up, freezing the air in my throat.

Vane is falling and falling, his back to the ocean below.

“Don’t,” he mouths.

It reminds me of the same warning he gave me back at the lagoon before he finally gave in to me. When he told me not to run. When he tried to save me from himself.

But I don’t need saving.

Not then and not now.

Is he worth it? the shadow asks.

Worth it and more, I tell it.

The shadow stirs again and there is a sensation deep in my throat that feels like something wanting to crawl its way out.

Vane’s clothes flap around him as the ocean grows nearer.

I reach out, stretch my arm as far as it’ll go, stretch my fingers until they ache.

“Grab my hand!” I yell at Vane.

He grits his teeth.

If you choose me, I say to the shadow, you choose him too.

Darkness pulses at the edge of my vision.

Vane’s brow furrows, confusion narrowing in his eyes.

“Grab my fucking hand, Vane!”

Darkness envelops us. I can no longer see the ocean or feel the cool spray of the waves.

The shadow ribbons around Vane and me and I yelp with relief when I feel his fingers lock with mine.

I wrap my body around his as the darkness wraps around us and propels us forward at the last second.

Just enough to miss the rocks, but not enough to miss the ocean.





We slam into the surface at such high velocity, the water feels like a thousand needles on my skin.

Vane latches on to me as the waves spin us around and around and the current drags us against the sharp coral reef. I can taste blood on my tongue.

We come up for air, only to be dragged under again.

Finally the ocean spits us out, gasping and bruised and bleeding on the sandy, chilly shore.

I collapse on top of Vane, both of us panting, sucking in oxygen.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says and hangs his head back into the sand.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

He groans and I remember he’s deeply injured and scurry off of him.

“Get up. We need to get you somewhere safe so you can—” I push his shirt aside to get a better look at his wound. “What the—”

He lifts his head and scans his chest. “That’s not possible.” He yanks the material aside and pats at his pale skin. “What the fuck?”

“Are you healed?”

Up on his feet, he yanks his shirt completely off and if we weren’t under attack with his life hanging in the balance, I would take a celebratory moment to appreciate the sight of him.

There’s nothing on his torso. No cuts marring his flesh or his tattoos. No festering wound. Not even a bruise.

“Did I heal you?” I ask.

He frowns as he considers it. “I would say unlikely, but anything is possible with the shadows. No two are alike and they react differently with each person. But…” He pats at his chest again, then runs his hands down his abs checking for more injuries.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t feel different. I can still feel something that resembles the shadow.”

“Well there will be plenty of time to figure it out later. After we destroy him.” I start down the beach toward Marooner’s Rock, but Vane grabs my hand and yanks me around.

My wet hair slaps at my face.

“You are not going back there. You are going home.”

“I don’t need to be coddled, Vane. I just saved you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Ill-conceived at best.”

“Besides, if anyone should be going home it’s you. You were mortally wounded just minutes ago with your shadow torn out and—”

He growls and his violet eye goes black.

I take a step away. “Vane?”

“For once, Win, I wish you would fucking listen to me.”

“Vane!”

“What?” he barks.

“Your eyes are black.”

He rushes over to a tide pool and looks at his reflection.

The words I choose while reaching out to Vane echo in my head.

If you choose me, you choose him too.

That’s what I told the shadow.

“Vane, I think—”

He turns around and meets my gaze.

Even though his eyes are black, I can still sense him searching mine.

I know he can feel it—we are sharing the Neverland Death Shadow.

The shadow is split between us.

Vane grabs my hand and turns it over in his. There is a spark of warmth where our skin meets. Like warm honey on a summer night. A sense of familiarity and likeness.