The Never King: Chapter 15

An hour after Cherry leaves me, Kas comes to my room and unchains me. He’s wearing a shirt today, much to my disappointment.

Several tines of his black ink stick out from the collar of his shirt. “If you promise to stay nearby,” he says, “I’ll leave you unchained.”

I give him an innocent look. “Peter Pan already warned me there’s nowhere to go.”

He nods.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” I say.

“I’ll wait. I wanted to talk to you.”

When the bathroom door is shut behind me, I go to the vanity and look at myself in the mirror.

I look the same—pale skin, big green eyes, dark hair. I look the same, but I don’t feel the same.

Reaching out with my hand, I touch the patinaed glass. It’s cool beneath my touch and a little flash of relief warms in my gut.

I use the bathroom, then splash cold water on my face. When I come back out, Kas is in the wingback, his elbow on the arm, his hand curled around his strong jaw.

Something is troubling him. I can feel it.

I’m familiar with anxiety. That building feeling that your insides want to crawl to the outside and burst into flames.

Or at least that’s how it is for me.

I sit on the end of the bed. “What’s up?”

I may have only been held captive for two days, but Kas feels safe and comfortable already. I think it’s because he had a very clear opportunity to fuck me last night and didn’t.

He really is the nice one.

“My brother told me about last night,” he says.

“Ahh, yes.”

“I’m sorry he did that.”

“Don’t be.”

He frowns at me.

“I like sex, Kas. I’m not afraid of it.”

He sits forward, clasps his hands together. “You were kidnapped and chained to a bed.”

“Which made it that much more enjoyable.” I smile sweetly at him.

He sighs.

Kas doesn’t know that being chained to a bed is the least of what I’ve suffered. I pull the collar of my sweater up so he doesn’t see my scars.

“We’re not supposed to touch the Darlings,” he says, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Bash knows that and he broke the rule anyway because he’s an arrogant, selfish prick.”

“Oh, just my type.”

Kas’s dark brow furrows.

I laugh and he finally catches the joke.

“All right. Fine. I’m glad you’re taking this so well.”

If only he’d watched me take it last night.

Gods, I liked Pan watching. I’d liked it more than I probably should have.

The memory, still so vivid, comes back to me and heat sinks to my clit.

I’m suddenly starving for something that doesn’t go in my belly.

Goosebumps run up my arms and I rub my hand over my sweater, trying to drive away the excited chill.

“Cherry wants you to come to the bonfire tonight. Do you want to come?”

“Peter Pan is okay with it?”

Kas makes a little cringe with his puffy lips. To think of those lips on my—

Good god, I’m a captive here and all I can think about is these boys taking me.

What is wrong with me?

I thought I was going to go mad yesterday. This is far better.

I’ll take this any day of the week.

Maybe I am just a kid that’s been let loose in a carnival.

“I take it that’s a no?” I ask.

“He’s still in his tomb so he doesn’t know. It’s debatable how he’ll feel about it when he wakes.”

“Then we should be good and drunk by then just to be safe.”

He laughs again and watches me with an intensity that makes my insides soar. “You’re different than the others,” he says, his voice low, catching.

“Am I?”

He nods. “We’re always prepared for screaming and sobbing and begging when a Darling comes. You’re just sitting here pretending like you’re on vacation.”

“Oh? This isn’t a resort?”

“See what I mean?” He scratches at the back of his head. His long hair is still tied up in a bun. I wonder how long it is when it’s let loose. He is gorgeous in his own right. Different from Pan and Vane. They’re all gorgeous.

It makes the basketball team look like a bunch of ferrets.

“Wait, did you say Pan was in his tomb?”

Kas winces.

“Why is he in a tomb?”

“A conversation for another day. If you’re hungry, Bash is in the kitchen.”

“You guys like feeding me.”

His gaze wanders over my body. “You look like you need feeding.”

It’s all fun and games until they notice your fault lines, until they pry them open and peer inside.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m secretly an assassin. Makes it easier to get into tight spaces.”

He frowns at me. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend. This island has been pretending for far too long.” He turns for the door. “Come out when you’re ready.” And then he’s gone.

I sit with his words for a while.

The problem is, I don’t know how to stop pretending.

When I come out into the kitchen, I find Bash alone.

Late sunlight is pouring through the windows and in the distance, it’s painting the ocean in shimmering strokes of gold and pink.

Bash is at the counter whipping things together in a bowl. He’s shirtless and all of the muscles and tendons in his arms and across his chest are moving in sync in a way that is almost hypnotizing.

He’s clearly the cook in the house, but I don’t think there’s much fat on him. He is cut like stone.

“Good morning, Darling,” he says and looks up while he stirs.

“Afternoon, you mean?”

“Close enough.” He winks at me while a lock of his black hair falls over his forehead.

“What are you making?”

“Honeysuckle tarts.”

“They sound delicious.”

“They will be.”

I slide onto one of the stools across the island from him. “You think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“If you are not the most interesting person you know, then you’re doing it wrong.”

I arch a brow. “Some would call that narcissism.”

“If you don’t hold yourself on a pedestal, then who will?”

I reach over the island and stick my finger in the batter.

“Darling,” he says and tsk-tsks at me. “Good girls wait their turn.”

His gaze has darkened.

My belly dips and my pussy clenches.

Well.

I suck my finger into my mouth and clean it off.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of me.

His jaw clenches and then he sets the bowl down, dips his finger into it, and reaches across the island. “Looks like I need mine cleaned off too.”

Fuck. I’ve played this game before, but never with someone like Bash.

Usually I’m the one baiting the hook. Not the other way around. I don’t know what to do with myself. I suddenly feel naive and out of my depth.

And I think it might be the way Bash is looking at me, like I am a toy to be played with.

I lift myself up from the stool so I can lean over the island to meet him.

I pop open my mouth and Bash slides his finger into me. I roll my tongue over him, cleaning off the sweet batter and he inhales sharply through his nose, teeth grinding together.

“Fuck, Darling,” he whispers. “You’re going to get me killed.”

I pull my lips back, swirl my tongue over the end of his finger.

He visibly trembles and I am soaring high on the power and the pleasure of being pleasing.

Footsteps approach and Bash pulls back and deflates.

I look over my shoulder to see Vane in all of his menacing glory. He scowls at us, then looks at Bash’s outstretched hand with his good eye, the violet one.

He’s shirtless too, covered in black ink and when he comes around the island, I make out the dark shape of a massive skull with fangs tattooed on his back.

Side by side, Bash and Vane are close to the same height, but Vane has an inch or two on him putting him well over six feet, I’d guess.

Bash is definitely stockier. Vane is all deep, shadowed lines, wiry like a brutal fighter.

He sticks two fingers into the batter, causing Bash to frown at him and then Vane silently comes around the island to me and wipes his sticky fingers over my mouth.

It catches me off guard and I inhale sharply.

When he steps back, the batter drips from my chin.

“That’s better,” he says and sets his jaw as if he’s daring me to react.

Fury writhes up my spine. I’ve never been violent, but I think I could change my mind for Vane.

But that’s exactly what he wants, isn’t it?

He wants to get a rise out of me. They all do, in their own way.

Taking in a deep breath, I run my tongue over my bottom lip and swipe away the mess. “Mmmm,” I say. “So good.”

Frustration is a flicker in his good eye.

I give him the same show I gave Bash and swipe up the last of the mess with my index finger, then stick it in my mouth and practically fuck myself with it.

And then Vane’s violet eye turns black.

I stumble back. He advances on me.

“Vane,” Bash says.

Vane grabs me by the back of the neck and drives me into the island, bending me over the counter, forcing my face to the cool stone. I huff out a breath as he presses against my ass and leans over me, his voice at my ear.

“Do you want to know what I do to pretty little girls like you?”

His voice is rough and rumbling, the kind of voice you only hear in horror movies coming out of the throats of monsters.

The terror slithers up my back, across my shoulders.

I can’t stop the whimper from coming out of my throat.

“Vane,” Bash says again.

Vane is hard at my ass, digging into me and my heart leaps, tangling with the pulsing terror.

I’m scared out of my mind and turned on more than I should be and I don’t know what that says about me.

Vane’s grip on my neck turns punishing.

“You wouldn’t last ten minutes with me,” he says.

“Okay, she gets it,” Bash says.

“Does she? Do you, Darling?”

Heat sinks to my clit and instinctively, I arch my back, pushing my ass into him. His hand snakes around to my front and covers my mound.

My knees buckle, but Vane’s grip is sure and he’s not letting me go down.

My brain is saying I need to get out of this, find safety, but my body is saying more, more, more.

I haven’t felt this way in a long time.

Like I am firmly in my body. And enjoying every second of it.

I’ve had so much sex I can’t count the times, but I’ve never been in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing.

Vane’s fingers rub at my clit and I think he might be punishing me more with pleasure than with pain.

I pant out against the counter.

He shifts his grip on me and my panties slide over my heat and the sensation makes me sag against the counter.

More.

More.

But suddenly he’s gone.

And this time I do hit the floor.

“Darling,” Bash says as he darts around the counter to crouch beside me.

“I’m okay.”

He scoops me up effortlessly and keeps an arm around my waist. I’m still burning with heat, trembling with desire. My panties are soaked now.

I look up at Vane. His violet eye has returned to that bright shade of purple.

This wasn’t about the terror this time.

It was about the art of the tease.

Showing me what he could do with so little effort.

I suck in a deep breath and fix my skirt. Bash is warm and solid at my side.

Vane regards me with cool indifference and I know he wants me to cry or beg.

So I do the opposite.

“Are all of you allergic to shirts?”

Bash snorts and buries a laugh.

Vane simmers.

He’s not going to get to me.

He’s already underestimated me.

He gives me one more snarling scowl and then turns and walks away.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Bash says.

“Why?”

“Because Vane doesn’t walk away from anyone. He punishes. He dominates. He does not relent.”

“First time for everything, right? I mean, this is my first kidnapping so we’re all having firsts.”

He laughs again and shakes his head. “Where did you come from, Winnie Darling?”

“As if you don’t know.”

He narrows his eyes as he sizes me up. “Even if Pan doesn’t find what he’s looking for, I will be glad you were here. Shake things up. The gods know we could use it around here. Everyone is so damn broody.”

“I guess I will take that as a compliment.”

He winks at me. “It’s certainly intended as one.”

While Bash makes the food, Kas shows up with Cherry in tow. They’re carrying matching wood-slatted crates. Inside, glass bottles clink together.

“More liquor?” I ask as they set the crates on the table. “You have an entire bar in the other room.”

Cherry grabs a tall, skinny bottle with a deep red liquid inside. “The bottles on the bar are from your world and they’re Pan’s personal collection.” She shows me the bottle in her hand. “This is faerie wine.”

I’ve read stories about innocent young things drinking faerie wine and being trapped or corrupted by it. Some of those stories said once you’ve had faerie wine, you have no hope of ever going home.

But Cherry is human and she seems okay.

“Can I try some?” I ask.

Kas opens a cupboard and brings out several glasses, sets them on the counter. Down below, on the back patio, the party is already well underway. Music and laughter filters in and it reminds me of all of the high school parties I’ve attended over the years. And if I don’t look at it too closely, I can almost pretend that this is a normal night, in a normal life.

Kas pops the cork from the bottle with nothing but his bare hands and then tips the bottle over the glasses. The wine makes a glug-glug sound.

Cherry takes two glasses and hands one to me. “Go easy on it. It’s a strong blend.”

Bringing the wine to my nose, I inhale deeply. I’ve been drunk before, but usually on cheap vodka we drank straight from the plastic pint bottle. Me and Anthony and several of his friends.

I can smell cinnamon and cloves and maybe oranges in the wine.

I look up and find them all watching me.

“What? Is this a trick?”

Cherry laughs and shakes her head. “It’s just that it’s been a long time since we’ve had someone here from your world and I promise you, you’ve never tasted anything like faerie wine.”

Well, here goes nothing.

I take a long sip and let the wine roll around on my mouth.

And it’s…wow. Flavor blooms on my tongue. I can taste the oranges and the spices, but there’s something tart, maybe cherries or maybe cranberries. It’s a riot in my mouth as the alcohol brings heat near the end and I swallow it down.

My eyes are wide. The twins laugh at me.

“Holy shit,” I say.

“See!” Cherry raises her glass and takes a long drink from hers.

Kas and Bash tip their glasses back and empty theirs in one swallow.

Already I’m warm all over.

Cherry refills us all, then, “Come on. Let’s go down by the fire.”

“Careful with our Darling,” Kas says.

Cherry sighs. “Of course I will.”

Our Darling.

Am I theirs?

Just the idea ignites a strange sort of flame in my gut. I’ve never been anyone’s. Not even my mother’s. She might have birthed me and did the best she could putting a roof over our heads, but she was never capable of being a mother.

The thought of belonging to someone is foreign and oddly gratifying.

Cherry clasps my hand in hers and pulls me out the double doors to the balcony. The ocean glitters with more color as the breeze lifts the hair from the back of my neck. The balcony is high off the ground and sits above the lower lying trees while the palm trees stand higher but are sparser.

This place is so beautiful.

I never gave Neverland much thought while my mom ranted about it. I never wanted to believe in it.

But she was right—there is magic here. There’s magic in the beauty of it. And real magic too.

Down below, a fire is burning in the stone fire pit and there are easily two dozen people down there, most of them my age. Or at least, they appear to be my age.

There’s a spirited card game going on at a round table and on the other side of the bonfire, a boy is playing the ukulele beside another boy with a guitar.

“Where did all of these people come from?” I ask.

Cherry pulls me over to the railing so we can look down on the party while we talk. Flickering lanterns hang from wrought iron hooks dotted around the clearing.

“This house is massive,” Cherry explains. “You’re staying in what’s known as the loft. Vane, Kas, and Bash live up there. The rest of the Lost Boys live on the main floor. There are a lot. I honestly can’t even tell you how many.”

“But where do they come from?”

She shrugs. “From town. From your world. From Hook’s side. Lots of places. Lost Boys are just misfits, the ones who don’t belong or who never wanted to grow up.”

“Do they have magic too?”

“Not usually, no. Pan doesn’t let the fae in. Bash and Kas are an exception.”

I look over my shoulder and through the glass door to the kitchen. Kas is explaining something with his arms held wide and Bash is laughing at him.

There’s more to their story, I’m realizing. And I desperately want to know it.

“I keep hearing about this town. Where is it?”

“That way.” Cherry points back toward the kitchen and I’m assuming far beyond it. “But Pan probably won’t let you go there.”

“How big is this island?”

The guitar player picks a more upbeat tune and the ukulele adjusts to the beat.

“Pretty big. It would take you a half day to get to the other end by foot.”

So maybe like ten miles across if I had to guess.

That at least gives me something to wrap my head around.

“Come on.” Cherry starts for the stairs, but I linger at the balcony railing.

Several vines have taken hold in the stone and bright purple roses bloom from them, perfuming the air with a heady, sweet scent.

Two days ago I was terrified of going mad just like my mother and now I’m on an island in some other realm—allegedly—surrounded by the fae and vicious boys drinking faerie wine.

How quickly and suddenly things can change.

But I still don’t want to go mad and I think that whatever Pan means to do to get inside my head is exactly how it happens.

It makes me wonder what my mom went through when she came here. Pan made it clear that he and the Lost Boys never touch the Darlings, but clearly, they did something to them. Otherwise there wouldn’t be a legacy of insanity in my family tree.

Can I help him find his shadow without subjecting myself to the brain melt?

I take another sip of the wine and it immediately goes to my head and loosens the knots between my shoulders.

Alcohol makes everything better.

I drain my glass and return to the boys and hold out my cup.

Kas eyes me, considering.

“Please?” I say and give him an innocent stare.

Bash laughs and shakes his head.

“Fine.” Kas uncorks the bottle and gives me a generous pour. That same flame returns at the thought of anyone caring what I do or don’t do and it makes me want to test the strength of it, see how taut I can make it.

“Thank you.” I smile at Kas and whirl around and go on the hunt for Cherry. I’m beginning to like this place. Maybe more than I should.

Cherry and I are playing cards with some of the Lost Boys. I don’t know their names and they never asked mine. The boy beside me is short with red hair and he smells like cigarettes and mischief.

His hand is beneath the table, resting on my thigh. Everyone is handsy here, I’m realizing, and I’m pretty sure there was a couple fucking on the other side of the patio just a little bit ago.

This is a place of wild debauchery, a carnival ride that you never want to exit.

I’ve always loved carnivals.

The rides and the mischief.

The boy’s hand slips further up my thigh and my skirt rides up and I giggle with excitement.

I don’t know how much wine I’ve drunk. It doesn’t seem like enough, but maybe it’s been too much.

“Gable!” Cherry yells and slaps her cards on the table. The others groan.

Gable is a card game that I don’t understand and that I keep losing. But it doesn’t matter. I’m having the time of my life.

Kas and Bash joined the party an hour ago with food, and platters have been passed around with the cutest little tarts and gingersnaps that make my tongue burn.

Why was I ever afraid of coming here?

I could get lost in this world and never want to be found.

The boy edges closer and I glow beneath his attention. This is always where I’m most in my body, when someone else is touching it, when my nerves are awake. It’s hard sometimes to feel anything at all.

Cherry laughs and falls off her chair and the boy beside her helps her back up.

My red-haired wonder pulls me onto his lap and his cock presses hard at my center.

He’s no Bash or Kas and he’s certainly no Pan, but he’ll do just fine.

I lean into him and kiss him.