The Fae Princes: Chapter 12

When I step into Cherry’s old room, a memory swirls into my consciousness. One of being trapped in here with the dark shadow. I only remember the sharp edge of panic and then nothing.

I still don’t know what she was thinking or what she was hoping would happen.

I’m sure she wanted me dead.

The hair along my forearms rises and I sense the shadow at the center of me.

, it says.

And yet Cherry had to betray me for it to happen. Does that absolve her of her guilt? Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe with her gone, it no longer matters.

Kas slips in around me for the closet. The door creaks on its old hinges and Kas disappears inside.

“Cherry didn’t have a lot,” he says from the darkness. “But she did accompany Pan to the palace on a few occasions and he made sure she had the appropriate attire. It’ll have to do on short notice.”

I circle Cherry’s room. It’s in disarray. The frenzy of someone leaving quickly.

There’s a sweater on the end of the bed and I pick it up, rub the fabric between my fingers. It’s threadbare but soft. Well-loved. And I can’t help but think of all the pieces of myself I’ve left dotted around the country as Mom and I left quickly, hoping to escape a landlord demanding rent, or a man who got a little too close in Mom’s work.

There was one thing Cherry and I had in common: our belongings were all we had. There was never a home.

“Oh, Cherry,” I say.

“What was that?” Kas comes out of the closet, a dress in hand.

“Nothing,” I answer and then take in the dress hanging from the wooden hanger. “Holy shit.”

“It’s her best one.” Kas lifts it so I can see the full train.

“It’s gorgeous.”

The material is a vibrant shade of emerald green with a full, poofy skirt and a long train that would easily trail behind me by several feet.

“I’ve never worn something so fancy.”

Kas takes the dress off the hanger and unbuttons the back for me. “Step in and I’ll button it up.”

I untie my robe and toss it aside. Kas’s gaze sharpens when he sees I’m still naked beneath.

Kas once denied me when I tried to get him into bed. Actually, no, he did get into the bed, but he did not let me ravish his fine-as-hell body.

Several locks of dark hair hang in front of his face like he tied his hair back quickly and missed several strands. His shirt is slightly askew and the hard line of his collarbone sticks out. Too bad he isn’t shirtless. God, I could just stare at him all day long. Kas has the muscles of Hollywood action heroes and I just want to grope at him inappropriately.

“When Bash ties me up, will you join us?”

He cocks his head and the stray locks catch on his mouth. “That’s always been his game.”

“And what’s yours?”

The question makes him turn inward. I can see the thought in his eyes. When he comes back to me a few seconds later, he says, “To go slow.”

We lock eyes in the small space between us, me still naked, Kas still holding the dress.

Now I know why he loved forcing me to orgasm over and over when I was tied to the Never Tree. Prolonged pleasure, again and again. It nearly drove me mad. I’m wet just thinking about it, my pussy throbbing now.

“I want that,” I tell him, and my skin pops with goosebumps. “Tease me until I can’t think straight.”

“When you’ve earned it,” he says, the corner of his mouth curving. “Now be a good girl and get in the dress, Darling.”

“If you insist.” I step into it and Kas pulls the dress up so I can slip my arms in through the open sleeves. When the dress settles on my body, it’s obvious right away it’s too big. I’ve put on weight since being on Neverland, but my chest will always be smaller than Cherry’s.

The bodice has a high neckline with a bold leaf pattern embroidered in gold on the green fabric. More gold embroidery lines the hem of the skirt, and the delicate folds of fabric where the skirt meets the bodice.

Kas does the fasteners that dot along the spine.

“I don’t know if this will work.”

“Just let me get it on and then we’ll adjust.”

I frown. “You’re a seamstress now?”

“Something like that.”

When he buttons the last button at the nape of my neck, he comes around. There is just one window in Cherry’s room and with the gray skies, the light is muted so it just brushes against Kas’s silhouette.

He squints at me, taking me in, and then, “Close your eyes.”

I smile, liking where this is going.

“We don’t have time for that,” he says with a chuckle, already reading my line of thought.

“Okay, fine.”

I do as commanded. The shadow stirs.

The hair raises along my arms as the air changes. I catch the faintest scent of earth and wet moss, maybe a little bit of something sweet, like lemongrass. The scent stirs something old in me, a long-forgotten memory with the barest hint of a fingerprint.

The dress tightens across my middle. I let out a startled gasp.

“Almost done,” Kas says. “Keep your eyes closed.”

The heaviness of my wet hair disappears even though I can still sense Kas in front of me, not touching me, even though I wish he was.

“Okay, open,” Kas commands.

I peek at him. He’s grinning.

Looking down at the dress, I find the bodice snuggly against my breasts the way it should have been if it were made specifically for me.

Kas takes me by the wrist and pulls me toward Cherry’s dresser and the mirror that hangs on the wall above it.

When I catch my reflection, I curse with surprise. Kas laughs.

“What did you do?”

My hair is dry now and swept back from my face, twisted at the back of my head into a complicated chignon. Several wispy strands of hair hang along my jawline.

On closer inspection, I realize I’m also wearing makeup.

“It’s an illusion, and a damn good one if I say so myself.”

“You are an artist.” My cheeks are rosy, my lips soft pink. There is a dusting of glittery eyeshadow on my lids and a sweep of dark mascara.

“See,” he says and takes my hand like a gentleman and gestures for me to twirl. “It’ll work just fine.”

A half hour later, I’m in the kitchen sitting at the island stuffing my face. Bash has heated up the leftover chicken and biscuits for me and though I’ve had plenty of chicken and biscuits in my life, these are by far the best.

The biscuit is buttery and rich with flecks of a green herb that’s been folded into the butter he used on the golden-brown top. The chicken is moist, flavorful, the cut veggies somehow the best cut veggies in the world. I don’t understand it. I’ve never loved peas but when Bash prepares them, I could pop them like candy.

He watches me eat from across the island as he leans into the opposite counter, an arm crossed over his middle, a cup of coffee in the other hand.

He’s smiling.

Spoon midway to my mouth, I stop. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Nothing.” He smiles wider. “I just like watching you eat my food. It makes me happy.”

“Happy or insufferably proud?”

“Ha.” He sips from his coffee and the steam kisses his face. “Both.”

I sense Vane coming up behind me. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I’m busy,” Bash says.

“I wouldn’t let him put a shirt on,” I tell Vane.

He grumbles as he comes around the island fixing the cuff of his jacket.

“Whoa.” I stop chewing. “Sweet baby Jesus.”

Vane looks over at me. “Swallow your food before you choke on it.”

I do and then, “So it’s okay to choke on Lost Boy cock, but not chicken and biscuits?”

Bash laughs into his cup, coffee spilling over the edge.

Vane doesn’t answer me because he knows I’m just trying to rile him up, and he’s not wrong.

“You look fucking amazing in that jacket,” I tell him.

He rolls his shoulders like he’s trying to get comfortable in it. “I hate it.”

The jacket is black with a stiff collar that edges his sharp jawline in fine darkness. There is no visible thread, no embroidery. For Vane, black is just black. It needs no adornment.

“Stop fidgeting,” I tell him.

He grumbles at me. Bash buries another laugh.

“Get dressed,” Vane orders him. “We’re leaving soon. Darling, did you get enough to eat?”

“Yes, and Kas dressed me.” I slide off the stool and fluff out the skirt. Vane stops fidgeting with his jacket.

The connection of the split shadow thrums between us. Awe. Excitement. Joy.

Vane and I lock eyes. These aren’t emotions that I think he allows himself to often feel and if he does, he doesn’t let anyone know it.

But there’s no hiding it from me right now.

The sight of me in a pretty dress has moved him.

I break out in a wide smile, then take several folds of the skirt so I can give him a twirl like I did for Kas.

“You look beautiful, Win,” he says, his voice softer now, the hard edges sanded down.

“Thank you.”

It takes me a minute to realize we’re alone again, the twins having left to put on their own fine clothing.

“Have you seen Pan?” I ask him.

He gives me a shake of his head.

“Are we worried about that?”

He comes around the island and pours some coffee into one of the clay mugs. “Not yet.”

Adjusting my skirt, I make my way over so I can stand beside him at the sink. He’s staring out the windows at the snow that’s starting to collect on Neverland soil.

“He’s going to be okay,” I tell Vane, but I sense I’m trying to convince myself as much as the Dark One.

“I know,” he says, his gaze still on the horizon.

It doesn’t feel like a long stretch of time, us standing there together watching the bruised sky and the snowy island, but before I know it, Kas and Bash have returned and the air rings with the sound of fairy bells.

I turn to face them and let out a low whistle.

“Damn. Everyone is on a glow up.”

The twins stand side by side at the end of the island. Kas’s hair is down and it gleams like dark ebony as it follows the curve of his broad shoulders. Bash’s hair is combed back but not tamed, and several locks try to revolt and hang over his forehead.

He swipes them back again with a rake of his fingers.

They’re both wearing tailored black jackets much like Vane’s, but their collars are folded down and then descend into a wide lapel. White button-up shirts break up some of the black.

“Am I the only one wearing color tonight?” I joke.

“No, not the only one.”

We all turn immediately to Peter Pan, taking up the space of the open doorway.

Something breaks in my chest, because I can’t quite breathe right when I take in the sight of him.

He looks incredible. Fucking hot. The kind of man that if I’d encountered him in my world, I would have drooled at his feet.

The jacket clinging to the broad line of his shoulders is the same emerald green of my dress. I’m not sure if he somehow knew, or if it’s a huge coincidence, but I’m not going to side-eye the cosmic forces clearly at work here.

Where my dress features a bold leaf pattern embroidered in gold, Pan’s jacket has actual leaves fastened to the shoulders to resemble a layered epaulet. More make up the collar of the jacket, so his neck is circled by raw-edged leaves.

His dark blond hair is combed over, not a single lock out of place.

When my gaze finally lands on his face, his bright blue eyes are searching me. He’s unreadable, distant from me, and I don’t know what to make of that. He was an asshole earlier, clearly taking his frustrations out on me. I want to do as Vane says and give Pan some slack, but I’m not going to be his punching bag.

Especially not when we’re about to walk into enemy territory where the woman who killed my ancestor because she was obsessively in love with Pan is waiting for us.

Not to mention she’s supposed to be dead, so there’s that too.

“You look stunning, Darling,” he says, his voice even, tapped of all emotion. Gone is the Pan of earlier, the one edging on a break.

“You too.”

His jaw clenches and my chest fills with wings.

“We should go,” he tells us. “But first, promise me you’ll all behave and stick together? No one goes anywhere alone.” He turns to the twins. “Including you, princes. Even if it was your home once.”

Bash and Kas give him a nod. “We’ll be careful.”

“Then let’s go,” Pan says and makes his way for the door.