Fierce as a Tiger Lily (Daughters of Neverland Book 2)

by Kendra Moreno

  FIERCE AS A TIGER LILY

  DAUGHTERS OF NEVERLAND TWO

  Kendra Moreno

  © Kendra Moreno 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests please email the author at kendramorenoauthor@gmail.com

  Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are the product of the authors’ unmanageable imaginations; any similarity to real people is purely coincidence.

  No pirating please.

  Cover by Ruxandra Tudorica of Methyss Design

  Edits by Dani Black of Black Lotus Edits

  Proofreading by Cynthia Krietz

  Formatting by The Nutty Formatter

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  To continue the adventure

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also By Kendra

  For everyone with shadows and scars

  When you find yourself in the darkness,

  look up and search for the stars.

  They will lead you home.

  Prologue

  Two Hundred-and Twenty-Years B.C. (Before Choosing)

  I sit on the fallen log deep in the forest, stroking my hand along it, feeling the decay that eats away at the once great tree. It’d fallen so long ago, now nothing more than a nice place to sit, but it still pains me to feel the echoes of agony it went through when it fell. It’s natural for a tree to die, but nothing in Neverland is truly natural. This tree had once been brutally murdered, knocked down by some magic before its time, so I offer my condolences while I sit to collect my thoughts.

  I hear the approach before I sense him, the trees warning me I’m no longer alone during my rest. I can hear it in the way their branches shake, in the way the leaves shuffle against each other. They tremble and whisper. He comes, child. He comes. . .

  “What do you want?” I ask out loud, tilting my chin up as I stare into the darkness of the trees. There’s no sun here, never sunlight, but sometimes, if I squinted hard enough in the darkness, I could see the stars.

  “Why are you sitting all the way out here, Tiger Lily?” His voice comes out a purr, as it always does. He can never talk without sounding like a walking seduction, but there’s the underlying danger in the sound that almost negates the smoothness.

  I glance over at the mischievous and troublesome teenager sitting beside me. It’s as if he’s been sitting with me the entire time, here one second when he hadn’t been before. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s a phantom. Peter is a test in nerves and patience. Long ago, when I’d first been crowned Chieftess, I’d once allowed him to sneak up on me, just to see if he could. As it turned out, Peter is just as stealthy as I am; he’d popped in and pressed a playful kiss against my lips in the split second before I could move. It became a sort of game for a while, until Peter grew tired of it.

  He only grew tired of it because he stopped winning, though.

  “I came for some peace,” I finally answer the demon next to me, and he is a demon. Peter is many things, but good isn’t one of them, not wholly. There are limits to what he will do for another, and almost always, he has to get something out of it for it to be worth his while. It could be something as simple as curiosity or amusement. It could be something worse if he’s in a darker mood. Depending on Peter Pan is like depending on a tsunami; chaotic and destructive.

  “Then you won’t mind if I join you while you sit in the darkness.”

  Turning, I narrow my eyes on the red-headed demon, easily one of the worst monsters in Neverland. And yet, I’d still consider him somewhat of a friend. “What is it you want, Pan?”

  “Maybe I missed you.” Peter grins and I roll my eyes at his ridiculous statement.

  “And maybe we’ll all suddenly get old and die,” I spat. “Be honest if you’re going to interrupt my peace.”

  His blue eyes shine even in the darkness, as if some power comes from inside their depths to always light the way. It’s unnerving for them to be so bright while everything else is washed in shadows around us. Peter and I are frozen at roughly the same age, sixteen judging by our appearances, but that’s where the similarities end. While I’m dressed in the clothing of my people, my headdress perched easily on my head, Peter only wears green leathers. The color makes the red curls of his hair stand out even more as they hang down roguishly over his forehead. If Peter wasn’t such a demon, if he wasn’t such a risk, well, he would be attractive. I know better, but it still doesn’t eliminate my body’s reaction to him. I always did like danger.

  “It’s strange, isn’t it?” Peter murmurs, looking away from my curious gaze to stare off into the same darkness I had been for the last hour.

  “What is?”

  “That the darkness seems to follow you wherever you go.”

  “Neverland is dark,” I answer, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s inevitable that there be darkness.”

  Peter smiles, and for once, it lacks some of the mischief he always carries with him. “That’s not the kind of dark I mean, and you know it, Chieftess.”

  Something feels heavy about him then, as if something worse is happening beneath his skin that I can’t see, and it worries me. Peter has a role to complete in Neverland, an important one. If he suddenly decides he’s bored of the game, I’d hate to see what happened to the world.

  “Which darkness are you addressing?” I murmur, looking away from the too-intelligent eyes. “If you’re not speaking of what’s around us.”

  Strong fingers cup my chin and tilt my head back until I meet those glowing eyes. Such a danger, Peter Pan is. “The kind that eats us from the inside out, Lily.”

  I should be mad he touched me. Neverland is a strange world with backwards rules. Happy thoughts are dangerous. Touching without permission is frowned up. We all have our rules. But the way Peter’s rough fingers feel on my skin surprises me because I like it. I’m no stranger to intimacies, but Peter has always been a creature more than human. Right now, he feels more human than I’ve ever seen him.

  “What do you know of my darkness, Pan?”

  He smiles, the cocksure smile I always liked but frustrates me to no end. Then he reaches down to my hand where I brace it on the fallen trunk and laces his fingers with mine. His hand is warm, comforting, and it shouldn’t be. It really shouldn’t be. I should gut him for daring to touch me so freely.

  “What in the Great Spirit are you doing?�
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  He grins. “You asked what I know of your darkness.”

  “I did.” My brows furrow in confusion, always the trickster avoiding the answer, but when I’m ready to give up and chase him away, Peter surprises me again.

  His fingers squeeze mine gently, in comfort. “I know when the darkness gets too heavy, it’s nice to have company.” When he bumps his shoulder against mine, it feels far more intimate than it ever has with the boy who causes nothing but trouble. I should be concerned, but instead, I hold his hand back. “When your darkness begins to eat away at who you are, when it’s too hard to find the light, I’ll sit with you in the dark, Lily. All you have to do is ask.”

  I stare at Peter, confused why he would offer such a thing to me, but I don’t question it right then. As the sounds of the forest breathing reaches my ears, and the heartbeat of the very land itself tickles my throat, I knew that Peter is right.

  It is nice to have company to sit in the darkness with.

  And that should scare me, but I am a Chieftess, and fear is not something I’m privileged enough to feel.

  Chapter One

  The giggles wake me from my sleep, and I realize far too quickly who they belong to. I stumble out of my tent in a panic, worried no one is watching the child, only to find a handful of the Tribe sitting around the camp, their eyes locked on the tiny child currently prancing around the fire. A few clap as she chants some sort of song. Most look as tired as I feel.

  “She wouldn’t sleep, Chieftess,” Bear murmurs, his eyes heavy. The poor man has been on lookout duty all night, watching for any signs of trouble. He needs his sleep, but he forfeited it to make sure Aniya is safe. He always did, always going out of his way to help with Aniya, to make sure she is safe and happy.

  “Go get some rest,” I urge him. “I’ll take over.”

  “Are you sure?” Though he asks, his eyes are already closing, as if just giving the permission solves the problem. He’ll never make it to his tent, no doubt sleeping exactly where he sits, but at least he’ll get some rest. The entire tribe is stretched too thin, taking longer shifts to keep watch for an attack from the Lost and the man that leads them.

  The Crocodile.

  I try my hardest not to let thoughts of the traitor sink into my conscious, but it’s difficult. Wolfbane was a member of my tribe once upon a time, an important member, and now he’s little more than a monster killing the very land we stand on. I can feel it in the soil, in the trees around us. Neverland is dying, and Wolfbane has everything to do with it. Whatever it is he’s doing is causing our world pain, and his obsession with Wendy will get us all killed if he continues on his path. It’s such an idiotic mission for the Crocodile to have.

  Wendy hasn’t had a heart to give since Peter dropped her on a pirate ship so long ago.

  I take a seat on one of the stumps around the fire, watching the child carefully as she moved around. Whatever sort of magic is fracturing in Neverland, it affects Aniya, too. She’s the first child born in Neverland since the beginning. Tink and I were born here, too, but it was different. We were born from the land, aged with it. Neither of us remember a time before we appeared sixteen. Aniya is born from the people, and therefore, she’s an unknown variable in the magic around us. Every month that passes for Aniya, it’s as if two years go by, her body growing rapidly, her intelligence doing the same. Now, the little girl appears five, as if Neverland can no longer sustain youth.

  I worry she won’t stop growing, but there’s nothing to be done for it right now. I only hope she stops like the rest of us, or at least slows once she reaches a certain age.

  The Old Mother sits on the other side of the fire, her eyes riveted to Aniya as she dances in circles. It must have been her who braided the little girl’s hair, so it doesn’t get caught on the branches. She is often times taking care of the child, preferring it to preparing for war. Then again, The Old Mother is the only one of us who’s had experience with a baby before Aniya was born.

  “She called up a whole host of creatures when she was sleeping,” Old Mother murmurs, her voice carried over to my ears by the trees. She doesn’t have to speak loudly and she knows it.

  “She’s getting stronger.” Before, as a baby, Aniya had to concentrate hard to get a single animal to show up. Now they showed up with nothing more than a brief thought. If Aniya wants someone to play with? Suddenly, there will be a handful of creatures slithering and crawling from the undergrowth, happy to oblige. It would be terrifying. . .

  . . .if I hadn’t seen it before.

  “It’ll be time soon to have a talk with her, about respect and the responsibilities that come with power. She’s growing too fast, and we won’t know how to handle her if she gets older and starts abusing the power.”

  “I know.” And I do. Aniya is special, and with that uniqueness comes a different set of rules. We can raise her as the Tribe, but she must ultimately learn the limits herself. “I’ll have the talk soon.”

  I’m so caught up in speaking with Old Mother, I don’t realize Aniya is upon me until her small hands clamp around my face, dragging my gaze to hers. It’s another trait of the little girl that should scare me, the ability to move without sound, but I’d seen that before, too. Aniya is full of surprises.

  “Lily?” she asks, her giant blue eyes meeting mine. They’re slanted and shaped like my people’s, but the ring of green among the brown is unusual. It isn’t completely strange, considering the tribe is made up of various people who join us over the years, but it feels strange on the little girl’s face. She’s an oddity, one that still feels familiar even with all her unusual traits.

  “Yes, papoose?” After all this time, Aniya decided I should be called the flower rather than the animal, and there are only a few who dared do so otherwise. Most refer to me as Chieftess or Tiger.

  “Why do you look so grumpy?” Aniya mimics a grumpy face, one I’m most certain I’m not wearing, but I smile anyways.

  “Perhaps it’s because you’ve been giving Old Mother a hard time.”

  “No,” she giggles. “It’s because of the animals.” Too clever for a child. She is far too clever. “It’s okay, Makua. They’re not dangerous.”

  But they are. I don’t correct the child because I understand her. The trees in Neverland are dangerous, too, and I hadn’t listened to anyone that told me otherwise. I still don’t, because while they may be dangerous, they aren’t dangerous to me. We are gifted with powers for a reason. Aniya simply was born with one that can make her a weapon, which means I will protect her at all costs.

  As Aniya looks up at me, her hands still on my cheeks, a small, vicious looking bird lands beside me. I would have flinched, had I not known it was called by the little girl currently holding me hostage. The feathers on the bird are yellow, the tips red as if someone dipped them in blood. Its black eyes are filled with the darkness of the land, and the teeth it sported are razor sharp, as brutal as any shark. I’d once watched an entire swarm of them consume a Lost in minutes, leaving behind nothing but bone. And the small child calls them like they’re nothing but harmless canaries.

  “Hello, Carl,” Aniya coos and I frown at her odd choice of name. She’s grown attached to it, had decided this particular bird that often came when called would be named the simple word. Such are the whims of children. “Such a pretty bird,” the little girl murmurs, reaching out a hand for the bird to hop onto. I try hard not to cringe when it looks at me curiously before rubbing against Aniya’s hand affectionately. “Such a pretty bird, Carl.”

  But it isn’t.

  It really isn’t a pretty bird at all.

  Chapter Two

  “It’s been a month, Wendy.” Tink stands against the backdrop of the trees, her arms crossed over her chest, her wings spread like an avenging goddess. It’s easy to see how she became a Queen, because it’s in the very makeup of everything she does. I watch her carefully, watch the pixie dust that falls from her wings in her agitation. The Pixie Queen is certainly mo
re riled up than usual, but then again, we all are.

  “They’ll come,” Wendy tosses back at the Pixie, her own face twisted in a scowl. Though Wendy is more human than us, she still has a viciousness to her that makes it possible for her to be a Daughter. Wendy has a heart, but she would push that heart aside to save our people.

  The two Daughters have been going back and forth for hours, arguing, as if that makes things better. I understand both sides, know exactly what each worries about, but if I’m being honest, the sound of their arguing is starting to make my head hurt.

  “Just admit these friends of yours aren’t coming at all!”

  I cross my arms and lean back against the cut tree trunk. I should be sitting on top, but I prefer to feel the soil. It makes me feel closer to the trees, because the trunk isn’t dead, even if the tree has been cut down. Everything still lives, and sometimes, the dead live longer.

  Each day, Neverland drains more, the heart waning as the Croc pulls from it. I don’t think we can purely blame the Croc anymore, however. Once a pattern is began, Neverland will follow. I think the heart will keep losing power now no matter if the Croc pulls from it or not. And none of us have yet to figure out how he’s doing it. I have my suspicions, but they’re nothing more than theories and reaches. There’s no proof, and so, there is no reason to pursue it.