“My apologies.” Quenith dips her head slightly, her eyes focused on me. “I didn’t know.”
She seems truly sorry, her beautiful voice taking on a mournful timbre. Still beautiful, but now haunting. It gives me chills.
“We’re very sorry,” adds the other one.
“It’s okay.”Did I just tell them it’s okay that they tried to drown me?
Quenith nods again, then she and her friend drop beneath the water as if they’d never been there in the first place.
“Foy, get her clothes. I’m taking her back to the cave.” Peter doesn’t wait for a response as he lifts off from the beach and carries me over the jungle below. I see eyes again, this time in the treetops and farther down below.
“The sun never shines?” I ask. I don’t know why my thoughts are on that oddity, when I’m surrounded by any number of them.
“Not anymore. But I hope to change that.”
“How?”
“Once we kill Hook, I’ll be able to pull back all the magic he’s stolen. Once it’s restored, the island will be as it once was.”
“Does that mean you’ll be young again?” I stare at the hard line of his jaw, the muscle of his shoulder.
“Onceallthe magic is restored, we’ll be young again, the sun will rise again, and the magic of this place will rule over the entire island.”
“So there’s nothing you like about being a man?” I don’t know why I’m asking these questions. Maybe the near-death experience has loosened the bolts in my brain.
He glances down at me, and his lips quirk up in a decidedly rakish smirk. “There are a few things I’ll miss.”
I quickly look away and hope he can’t see my blush in the moonlight. I shouldn’t have been hoping for an answer like that from him, but I was. Because I’m foolish. Because I’ve been kidnapped to Neverland. Because I’m living in a bizarro dream where mermaids have piranha-teeth and eternal boys have become men.
Not that his answer matters. I’ve never been with a man, and I can’t exactly see myself having my first time with a Lost Boy. I mean, that definitely seems the same as a fuck boy—immature to a fault and only after one thing—and I avoid those at all costs. I tell myself all these things, but I still look up at Peter, memorizing the curve of his lips and the way his bare skin feels against mine.
“None of this is real.”
“Still worried about what’s real?” He gives a half smile as we land in the grove of trees.
We re-enter the cave, and he carries me all the way to the bedroom. When he goes to lay me in the bed, I protest, but he ignores it.
A tickle in my throat leads me to cough, and the burn in my lungs returns, though it’s nothing compared to the feeling of breathing in water. Maybe it’s best if I keep to the shore from now on.
“You need to rest. And not in the chair, either.” He steps back.
Which is when I see him.Allof him. I clamp my eyes shut, because I’m not trying to be a pervert—not to mention I’m still sort of unsure about whether Peter is an adult or a boy. I mean, going by what I just saw, he’s all man. I sink under the blanket, hiding my burning cheeks beneath the surprisingly soft fabric.
Now it’s quiet. I wonder what he’s doing. Is he standing there thinking about me being naked? I mean, hewasjust holding me tightly all the way back here. And what I saw … What I saw verified that he very much noticed my nudity. But I’m suffering from oxygen deprivation. I have to be to even be thinking of Peter Pan as anything other than a figment of my imagination or an outright kidnapper.
Maybe my mind is going just like my mother’s. I rub my eyes at the thought of it.Keep it together, Moira.
Pulling the blanket down, I start to peek over. That’s when I hear stomping and bickering.
The Lost Boys have returned.
I sigh with relief. Maybe I can get back on track now. Tucking the blanket beneath my chin, I avoid Peter’s gaze as the others walk in. That’s when I see they’re still naked.
Under the blanket I go.
“I hung your clothes out on a line by the kitchen. They’re still soaked.” I’ve heard Coy’s voice to recognize it; unless of course, it’s actually Foy speaking.
“Thanks. Does anyone have something I can borrow until mine are dry?” My voice is muffled under the blanket.
