Wendy nodded, remembering how high they had been when they had come into Neverland. “When can we come back with the boys?”
“Soon,” Peter answered, soaring upward, faster, faster. Wendy leaned back against him, trying to place the memory of flying with Peter Pan deep into her brain, like sealing a treasure in a locked room. She never wanted to forget this moment, the joy and freedom of flight. Goosebumps had begun tracing up her arm when Peter finally slowed. Wendy looked up into the endless sky with a shiver. She remembered coming through the passage, the purple light, the swirling fragments like glass . . .
“Peter—can you not see the passage in the daytime?”
Peter looked down at her for a moment, his face sorrowful as he pulled her away from his body and held her out at arm’s length, almost as if they were dancing. Wendy looked above her. “Is there some trick? I don’t understand . . .”
“Wendy.”
She looked at him in alarm. Her body tightened with fear, the malice in his voice unmistakable. She looked up at the boy who had kissed her and barely recognized him. His red curls swirled around his face in the wind, and the charming face was hard, like stone. His eyes were navy, his jaw clenched.
“Peter?” The fear had crept into her voice now.
“Wendy, Wendy . . .” He shook his head. “There’s no trick. You see, you will never be going back to London, because there is no passage without my consent. There is no going home, but there is no reason to even try, because Neverland is your home. Forever, your home.” His eyes narrowed. “Forever with me.”
Wendy instinctively shrunk back, but Peter clutched her hands and pulled her closer. “Wendy, listen to me—I love you. You were meant to be mine. We were meant to be together, forever.”
Her heart was closing in on itself, and suddenly, she found it very hard to breathe as terror tingled across her skin, worming its way through her chest. “Peter . . .”
“There’s nothing you can say,” he snapped. “Here are the facts, Wendy. You and I will be together. I will be the father of the Lost Boys, and you will be their mother. We will raise up Pan Island, and once I kill Hook, eventually we will rule over the main island. The King and Queen of Neverland.”
Wendy let out a sob. “Peter! No, I can’t, I . . .”
He whipped both of his arms forward, bringing Wendy back against his chest. She shuddered as he ran his fingers aggressively through her hair, a move that once drove her mad now so repulsive. “Shhh . . . it’s okay. You will learn to love me. I know it. I’ll give you as much time as you need. But have no doubt about it, you will be mine in every way possible. My little London doll, my darling.” Then he kissed her on the lips, hard. Wendy pushed him backward; with one hand clutching his arm, she slapped him hard with the other one.
At her actions, he gave a naughty grin. “There’s your fire. Up until now I thought it was just under your dress all this time.”
“How dare you?” she cried.
His smile vanished. “How dare I?” A scream rose out of his throat. “How dare I? You led me to believe that you loved me! And I know about him, about Booth!”
Wendy froze. “But how . . . how do you know about him?” She closed her eyes. “John. Of course.”
Peter huffed. “Do you not think I found out everything about you before John lost his memory? He was all too happy to betray you, of course. You Darlings certainly have some sibling rivalry issues to work out, that’s for sure.” He laughed, a cruel, shallow cough. “Now, the question is . . . Wendy, do you believe you could love me? In time?” He shook his head. “For so long I have been alone on this island, alone in a sea of boys who don’t understand me. I want a girl, someone to lie beside me at night, someone to wipe the blood from my face and care for my needs. I can’t be all alone forever here, I can’t. Hook grows only stronger, and a war is coming. I need you. The boys need a mother. I can’t . . . I can’t live without you. Don’t you understand?”
Angry tears filled his eyes, and she was struck by how much Peter resembled Michael at that moment, a boy having a tantrum over a toy. But she was not his toy. Wendy looked at Peter anew, seeing for the first time someone terrifying and unhinged. Insane. She remembered how he had killed the pirate by stomping him into the ground like an insect. How could she not have seen? Was his glamour so enchanting?
He grabbed her chin roughly, a sad look coming over his face. “I know that this is probably very hard for you, but soon, you will see that I was right and we were meant to be together. Our souls are entwined, Wendy. We have a bond. Your lips, your curls . . .” He tilted her face to the sun to see it more clearly. “Your perfect face, it was meant to be only mine. You will be my Neverland bride.”