Demonic Love (Peter Pan/Robbie Kay)

Rain

Out of all the scrapes and trouble that I've gotten into over the years, this was literally a cage I could not get out of. I sighed and leaned my head against the bars of the cage.

I huffed. I was the best of my profession, and I had been trained thoroughly, especially in these types of capture situations. But this was Neverland, and everything here was mysterious and unpredictable as the boy-king that ruled it.

I felt a drop on my nose, I blinked. One drop became two, and two became three... Seemingly out of nowhere, the rain started to pour. And I was stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, in a cage, with no way of escaping.

This day had gotten worse and worse. Oh well, on the brights side, it gave me a chance to wash off the grime and dirt on my face. I used my fingers to lightly detangle my hair. There, much better.

I peered up at the sky. How long was this going to last. I didn't want to get sick, especially if I was going to find a way off this island. My thoughts shifted to Peter Pan and his Lost Boys, my my, they must be having such a grand time, all tucked up in their warm beds, while I was suffering here in the rain. And dear old Pan has got to be laughing his arse off at the thought of me stuck in the rain.

A pair of boots appeared in my line of vision. The cage door swung open, seemingly by an invisible hand. there's only one person that had magic here, Pan. I made a mad dash for the door, still blindly hoping to escape.

I felt a hand give a sharp yank on my dress as I tried to escape. I was pulled away, away from the forest, away from freedom. A pair of arms snaked around my waist and held me firmly there as I continued to struggle. I swung my arms around wildly, successfully hit Pan in the face. Take that! Serves you right for keeping me locked up.

"Ow! Watch where you're hitting, love or I might just change my mind and leave you out here." A heavily accented voice warned. "Or would you prefer it out here in the cold, pouring rain to a warm, snugly bed at my campsite?"

Warm, snugly bed? Mmm, that sounded good. Especially since I was nearly freezing to death out here. I stopped struggling, as my eyelids started to grow heavier and heavier against my will.

Pan's P.O.V.

She was soon out like a light. As a result, she was a dead weight in my arms, as I carried her back to camp. I considered leaving her out there in the cold, just to spite her, if not for my boys. They came to my rooms, begging and pleading that I go get her and bring her from the cages. They seemed to have taken a liking to her, it seems.

Fair enough, since she didn't really hurt any of the boys, except the group she left dead. That was Bryan's group, anyway. I never really liked any of the boys in the group anyways. They were vicious, manipulative and selfish, never really caring for anyone.

And after some of the younger boys looked up at me with big, adoring eyes, how could I refuse? Truth to be told, I was pacing back and forth in my room debating and wondering if I should go get her out of the cages. Well, could you blame me? She could be a new member of our family, and I couldn't very well just leave her there.

Especially if I were the cause of her misery.

But it did serve her right, teach her to keep her mouth shut once in awhile. I sighed, it was usually quite easy to convince someone to be a Lost Boy, or Girl in this case. Anyone who's Lost always yearns to belong, to have family.

Never mind, I would have her soon , one way or another. After all, Peter Pan never fails. And I liked my games, and this girl was a labyrinth of mysteries, just waiting to be solved. I sensed that she was hiding something, something she desperately wanted to stay buried. There was also something uncanny about her, something beautifully deadly. 

She was mesmerizing, and I wasn't the only one that felt so. When she fought the Lost Boys, some of them just stopped there and stared, as if in a trance, while she cut them down. 

She was unlike anyone I had ever seen before. Most people would do everything in their power, would die even to escape my incurable wrath. But not her. While most people trembled before me, she stood tall, with her head held high. She pushed and prodded at me, testing my limits, seeing how far she could go, how far she had to push, not giving a damn about the consequences.               

And I've seen her fight, and she's one hell of a good fighter, a force of nature, capable of tearing the world apart piece by piece with her own bare hands if she wanted to.     

I lay her down gently on the bed, and with a snap of my fingers, her sodden clothes were replaced by comfy pajamas, and her hair dried itself.

Maybe I could use to this to my advantage, get her to do something for me, a bargaining chip, as a token of her gratitude. Anyhow, I would be one step closer to getting what was rightfully mine.