Felix x Reader (From Once Upon a Time)

Chapter 6

Y/n's Pov:

When I woke, the scent of smoke and damp moss filled my nose. For a moment, I was caught between dreams and reality—until the low murmur of voices, the heat of a nearby fire, and the quiet rustle of bodies surrounding us brought it all crashing back.

We were still on Neverland. Still prisoners.

I blinked, the flicker of flames casting long shadows on the ground around us. Henry stirred beside me, his face pinched with confusion as he sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"You okay?" I asked, voice low.

"Yeah..." he muttered, glancing around. "Where are we?"

I didn't answer. The Lost Boys were everywhere—circling like vultures, their eyes alight with mischief and something darker. Peter stood among them, arms crossed over his chest, as if we were mere pieces in some grand game he was orchestrating.

He raised a hand suddenly, then let out a shrill, birdlike cry—"Cacooo!"

A cheer erupted. Just like that, the morning had officially begun.

"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," Peter said, strolling toward us with the casual confidence of a boy who knew the island bent to his will. He tossed something through the air. "Catch!"

I caught the object instinctively. A bright red apple. Vibrant. Perfect. And completely out of place.

"Umm... No thanks," I said, eyeing it warily. "Not really an apple person. Snow White kind of ruined that for me."

Peter smirked. "Oh, I wouldn't eat it if I were you." He leaned in. "It's not for eating. It's for a game."

He pulled a bow from behind his back and notched an arrow with practiced ease—aiming it straight at Henry.

"I call it... target practice."

I sat bolt upright. "You can't be serious."

Peter's grin widened. "Deadly serious." He took the arrow and dipped it into a small vial handed to him by one of the boys.

Henry's face drained of color. "What's that?"

"Dreamshade," Peter answered. "A favorite on this island. Kills slowly. Painfully. And the best part?" He looked directly at me. "It only takes a scratch."

My stomach twisted. I'd heard of Dreamshade. My uncle Liam had once brushed a leaf with his hand. He didn't last a week.

Peter looked back at Henry. "There's a story here. A father once shot an apple clean off his son's head. Let's see if history can repeat itself."

"If you're aiming at the apple," Henry said hesitantly, "what's the poison for?"

"Motivation not to miss."

My hands curled into fists.

"Felix!" Peter called, not taking his eyes off me. "Join us."

From the fire's edge, he rose, brushing ash and dirt from his cloak. As he approached, recognition slammed into me. Blondie. The first face we saw when we landed here—the same one who stared at me like I was prey.

Just my luck.

Henry's voice was tight. "Is he any good?"

Peter tilted his head. "Oh, he's excellent. But he's not the one shooting." His eyes flicked to me. "You are."

"What?" I choked.

Peter stepped closer, pressing the bow into my hands. "I hear you've got a sharp shot."