The Fae Princes (Vicious Lost Boys Book 4)

“I am a better man because of her.” I shift back to Vane. His gaze is narrowed, searching me.

“We all are,” he admits.

I nod and slap him on the shoulder. “I am a better man because of you too.”

“Shut up,” he says.

“I’m serious. Take the warmth from me, Vane. Accept what it is.”

His jaw flexes. He finally nods. “I love you too, you fucking asshole.”

Across the clearing, Darling mouths to me, I love you three.

Bash draws a heart with his fingers. I love you four.

Vane smiles. Pan laughs. “Of course she does. Our little Darling whore bosses us around. Why not all of Neverland?”

“As if I could ever command you, Peter Pan.”

He takes a sip from his drink and breathes out around the heat. “Let’s try it out. Command me, Darling.”

“Get on your knees for me.”

The boys ooohhh behind me. Vane snorts with amusement.

Pan drains the rest of his drink and sets it down, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.

And then he sinks to his knees in front of me.

“Stop it,” I say, but I’m laughing.

The twins quickly follow suit, Bash first, then Kas, their wings flush against their backs.

I lock eyes with Vane. The glass is still clutched in his hand. If any of them were to tell me to fuck off…

Vane swirls the last of the liquor in the glass, then slings it back and sets the glass on the desk. He comes over to me, takes my hand, and bends to his knees.

He plants a chaste kiss on the rise of my knuckles and says, “As the queen commands it.”

Balder’s memories are still vivid in my head. The memories of two gods on the lagoon’s beach, watching the spirits of the water carry me under.

I should be dead. Several times over.

And yet, I am burning with life. Glowing with it.

Drenched in darkness, terrified of light.

Always so fucking terrified and looking to someone else, something else to make me feel less so.

Until now.

“I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you,” I say to Vane.

“Try me.”

I heft the dead Lost Boy over the cart’s railing. He joins the pile. “Your brother helped me figure out a few things.”

Vane laughs, but his mouth is closed, so the noise comes out his nose. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Roc helped you? Roc? My brother? The Crocodile?”

“Yes, that one. Do you have others you didn’t tell me about?”

She’s easy to spot if you just look up.

She’s the brightest shining light in the dark. The second star on the right.

The more that time stretches on, the less confidence I have. But really, if Peter Pan dies, I win. If he lives on, then he’ll thank me for helping him and I win again.

“A man who has nothing has nothing to lose,” I remind him.

He grumbles to himself. “All right. Let’s hear it then.”

He glances at me over his shoulder. “The Devourer of Men is philosophical?”

“Do not pretend like a man has no right to his tears,” he says around his hand.

I sit down beside him, one knee up so I can prop my arm on it as I continue with my nuts. “I suppose that’s fair. I’ve shed a tear or two in my day.”

Taking his hand away, he looks over at me, then drags himself into a sitting position. “What were the reasons?”

“Are we sharing vulnerabilities, Peter Pan?”

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