Page 96 of Lost in the Never Woods

“Feelings, Wendy,” it said. Wendy’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she steeled herself, refusing to let it distract her. “From the very first time he saw you, he felt something for you. Something that kept luring him away from his responsibilities, from Neverland. It’s you, Wendy, who has brought the great Peter Pan to his knees.” The shadow began to walk in a slow circle around her, his black eyes hungry.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

“I could see what was happening, of course, though he was far too oblivious,” it drawled. “With each visit to hear you tell those silly stories about him, I could feel him growing weaker. It was thanks to you, Wendy, and his feelings for you, that I grew more powerful.

“You see, Peter Pan is the embodiment of all things good, and light, and joyous.” It spoke with a disgusted sneer. “Peter never had reason for a bad thought or worry. His existence was simple—take care of the lost children and bring them happiness. That was all that was required of him! He never had reason to want to leave Neverland, to abandon his duty, his sole purpose of being, until he met you.” Thunderous laughter rolled through the room. “But the very first time he laid eyes on you, I could feel it.” The shadow’s hands clenched into fists.

“It was disgusting really, how he couldn’t stop thinking about you, but it wore on his resolve, and I could feel him waver. I even nearly succeeded once! Dear Peter couldn’t help himself. I took the chance to escape, while he snuck off to see you, his heart aching with the need.”

It was a memory that had been lost for so long. How she’d awoken to Peter in her room, upset and wrestling with his shadow. How she’d helped him sew it back on. That was the reason Peter thought she could put an end to it now.

How wrong they both had been.

“Alas, I was premature, I’ll admit, but not this time. I waited and let the feelings fester. The more he thought about you, the more he missed you and ached with longing, the stronger I became. And then finally, my opportunity came! Peter wanted to keep you, and he broke the rules. He brought you to Neverland, but you were no lost child, Wendy, not like your brothers.”

Wendy glowered at the shadow, her face pinching in confusion. She still didn’t understand. She looked at Peter, but he was barely conscious, his breaths coming sharp and shallow. His blue eyes tried to find hers, but they kept losing focus.

The shadow floated across the room in long, languid steps. It stooped over Wendy and clutched her chin with its sharp fingers. She tried to wrench herself free of its grip, but it was cold and strong as iron. The air around it drained the warmth from her skin, tickling the hair on her arms.

“Don’t touch her.” The breathless growl was Peter’s. Teeth clenched tight, he struggled against his restraints, shoulders lurching as his arms pulled and flexed, trying to break free. But it was no use.

The shadow kept all of its focus sharp on Wendy, but it closed its hand into a fist. The black ropes wrapped tighter around Peter, biting into his skin. An anguished cry ripped from his throat.

“Stop!” Wendy shouted in the shadow’s face. “Let him go!” She hated the panic and pleading in her voice, but how much longer would Peter be able to stand this torture?

Slowly, a triumphant smile stretched across the shadow’s lips, splitting its twisted face in half. “I know Peter’s deepest, darkest secrets,” it said, its low voice reverberating through Wendy’s bones. “Because I am those secrets. I am the consummation of his fears.”

It released Wendy’s chin. Her cheeks burned from where its sharp nails had bitten into her skin.

“His fears were about losing you. He was afraid of what you might think of him. That you would hate him and never want to see him again if you knew the truth.”

She couldn’t trust what it was saying. Everything it did, it did with purpose, to gain the upper hand. Wendy could see that now, and she wouldn’t let it consume her, even when she felt the panic coursing through her veins. “What truth?” she spat, but it continued on as if it hadn’t heard her.

“His fear gave me strength, and finally, I was able to escape the confines of our bond. But”—it turned back to Wendy—“as long as Peter had his magic, he posed a risk. It was a simple plan, and he fell for it so easily.” The shadow laughed. “To further weaken his resolve, I just had to lead him back to you, and Peter did the rest. He missed you when you were gone.”

Wendy’s throat was tight. She was terrified, but the words sent her stomach tumbling.

“It left him heartbroken, really. He wanted to choose you, Wendy. All I had to do was present him with the opportunity.” The shadow tutted disapprovingly. “So, I led him here, dropped him right in front of you for you to find. Peter’s weakness for you was his undoing.”

Wendy choked on her own breath. The guilt was crushing. The sticky blackness oozed up Wendy’s legs and climbed up her arms. Her brothers, the other missing children, and Peter, ensnared and in pain—it was all because of her.

“Don’t get me wrong, the fear of those children has given me plenty of strength, as well. And I admit, your fear and guilt are especially”—it inhaled a deep, rattling breath—“delicious. You’re such easy prey. All I have to do is lure you into these woods and it just pours from you. The scars of trauma are just so mouthwatering.

“But it’s Peter I’ve been after. He chose you, and, by doing so, he has abandoned the lost children and has been stripped of his magic. So, lost children they will remain.”

Peter’s eyes bulged and glistened, frantic and scared. “No,” he groaned, fighting his restraints with renewed vigor. “I need to go back—I need to help them!” The words rushed from Peter’s lips as he struggled, muttering as if to himself.

The shadow laughed.

Wendy could feel herself sinking deeper into the tarlike blackness, as if it were pulling her through the floor. Wendy’s entire body trembled, her breaths ragged and tasting of salt. Sticky tendrils snaked across her thighs and up her arms. Tension swelled, pushing against her ribs, expanding like a balloon. It ached and burned. It felt like it would break at any moment.

“Where are the children you took?” Wendy demanded, refusing to give in to the shaking creature in her chest. “Bring them back!” She tried to wrench herself free but only sank deeper into the oozing blackness.

The shadow threw its head back. Screeching laughter filled the room. “They were merely pawns to get to you, Wendy! Haven’t you put it together yet? Haven’t you remembered? Hasn’t he told you?” it asked, peering at her through narrowed eyes. Its face—Peter’s face, but cruel and dark and distorted—held sick glee in every sharp angle.

She heard its words, but they didn’t fit together in her head. She couldn’t make sense of it or of the plummeting sensation in her gut, as if it knew before she did. Wendy wanted to rage and scream. “Bring my brothers back!” Her voice quaked and broke.

“Oh, Wendy.” Its grin was cruel, its chuckle amused. “I don’t have your brothers. I never did.”