Chapter Twenty
The Coven that night turns into more of a party than usual, only because the overwhelming feeling of not being able to do so for much longer is strong. We don’t know how much longer we have of peace, how long until we go to war, or worse. We could all die trying to save Neverland and so, the Coven handles it the only way they know how.
The party is loud and rambunctious, but I don’t worry about it attracting the wrong creatures. Even with everyone having a good time, guards line the walls, lookouts prepared to call out if they see someone coming. The noise and fires will keep the creatures away at least, except for those that hang around Aniya.
With the Tribe, the Coven, and the Pirates all together for once, all with the same goal in mind, there’s never been a better time to celebrate life. Through the main courtyard of the Coven, there are four bonfires burning brightly, the sparks and ash flickering into the sky, painting everything in sensual tones. Three different songs are easily picked from the noise. My Tribe plays their drums, a song far more upbeat, a celebration of life. The Pirates sing with their own rhyme, a song about longing for the sea. The Coven plays something far more sensual, with a deep, throbbing beat that flows through the ground and into my feet. All the songs happening at the same time should sound like chaos. Instead, they blend together until they’re one, until the beat is a deep, rumbling, sensual longing. Even I want to move with the beat of it, so it’s not surprising when everyone is dancing right away, hardly taking time to eat dinner.
Some of the Fae drag members of my Tribe from their side and begin to dance. Bear sends up a hoot when a female Fae dances around him, appreciation in her gaze. I don’t blame her. Of all my members, Bear is the fullest of life and yet still, the most dangerous. He isn’t my leader because he’s my friend. Bear can tear apart an enemy with his bare hands, his mastery of the natural magic the Tribe uses far surpassing others. But the life in his eyes, it attracts everyone, makes you want to be his friend. It would be dangerous if it wasn’t true, if he ever intended to use it like a weapon, but that isn’t who Bear is. I watch in fascination as my man pauses in front of where Jupiter sits next to White before he bows dramatically and offers his hand to her. The redhead doesn’t hesitate. She grins and takes it, excitement shining in her eyes. I expect to see anger, or at least annoyance, on White’s face, but I only find a smile when I look. His eyes are riveted to his mate as she throws her hands in the air and twirls awkwardly around the fire with Bear. The love there, I have to look away at the pure emotion, but my eyes end up falling on a different sort of rabbit, instead.
March sits on the other side of the fire, the flames crackling to reveal his face between tendrils of brilliant color. The heat warps his image, and I’m not sure if it’s because of what he is or just the heat that his form seems to turn grotesque sometimes, and others, it’s normal, even without his body shifting. Feeling his eyes on me, I find myself on my feet. I don’t join in the celebrations often—the role as Daughter demanding a separation—but tonight, I want to be carefree, even if for a moment.
My hips begin to sway as I move, joining the circle of dancing. The sensuality and wildness the drums of my people and the music of Tink’s clashes and melds, making me feel just as wild and full of desire. I know March is watching; I can feel his eyes as I join the circle and turn. Bear hoots when I join in, the rest of my Tribe sending up their answers at the display. I throw my head back and hoot with them, dancing around the circle of the fire.
Cal and Cheshire sit on the sides, watching, curled around each other like cats. Neither strike me as the sort to get up and dance, but they seem content to watch. Atlas, as if he can’t stand to sit still, ends up joining us and attempting the dance on his own, drawing laughter from the females in his proximity. Another dangerous one, I think as I bypass him and pause in front of March. Peter is sitting at a different fire, preferring to be apart from me, but I can feel his eyes as I begin to sway in front of the March Hare.
“Be careful, Pretty Lily, of what you do, you might not like the outcome. Tease me once and I might bite. Tease me twice and we’ll both—”
Jupiter smacks him upside the head as she twirls passed, cutting off the words he’d been about to say, and it takes everything in me to hide my smile when he scowls after her.
“Don’t be crude,” she calls before dancing away with Bear.
March trains his eyes back on me, taking in the sway of my hips that doesn’t stop, the movements of my body. “Are you going to join me?” I ask, my voice husky even to my own ears. Tonight is about celebration, and I will celebrate.
“I don’t have much experience dancing,” he grins, before standing and taking the hand I offer. “You’ll have to lead me around, Pretty Lily.”
I shoot him a grin over my shoulder as I pull him into the ring. “I can do that. But I think you’ll get the hang of it quickly.”
The sensual throb of the song grows deeper, and I sink further into it, until it feels like an ode to sweaty bodies and feather-light touches. I pull March close, eyes burning into my back from another fire, as I begin to move against him, leading us in a circle, stroking my fingers around his body. His large hands circle my waist, but for a few seconds, he doesn’t move, studying me, but when he does. . .
“I knew you could dance,” I groan. His fingers stroke down my hip as he moves with me, far too limber for what I expected, as his hips sway with mine, brushing against me, teasing.
“I never said I couldn’t,” he rasps in my ear when he leans down. “I said I don’t have much experience with dancing. This game of seduction, of drawing a blush to your cheeks, I can do.”
“Now who’s teasing?” I grin and stroke my hand down his chest, over the shirt buttons that keep it closed. I stop just before I get somewhere good. Two can play this game.
“You’re asking to be bitten,” he chides, his fingers pushing against the edge of my tunic and touching skin.
“I bite back.”
“Oh, I know,” he growls. “Bite me, Pretty Lily. Let’s see which of us gets devoured first.”
Liquid heat pools in my core with his words, the rasp of his voice showing off the layers that make up the March Hare. When I meet his eyes, I see the fire there, the promise. His hands on my hips jerk me closer until we’re flush, making it impossible not to sway together. My arms curl around his neck, and we stop spinning around the circle, going stationary to grind against one another. Reaching up, I stroke my fingers down one silky-soft ear and he jerks against me.
“Naughty, Naughty Chieftess,” he murmurs on a whisper, his tongue snaking out to stroke the pulse of my skin, sending shivers through my body. “Laid down on a bed of grass, I’ll draw cries of pleasure from your lips. Pretty Lily, let me take you, let us meet flesh between hips.”
“And if I say yes?” I breathe, tilting my head back to give him a better advantage as his lips trail along my skin. One of his hands presses against the small of my back, pressing me closer, supporting my weight easily. The other comes to circle the back of my neck, gently cupping there.
His teeth nip my skin, drawing a hiss from my teeth. “Say yes,” he groans, licking the pain away.
“This is probably a bad idea,” I moan.
“The best ones usually are.”
When March’s lips press against the soft tissue where my neck and shoulder meet, I nearly melt right there. My fingers curl into his hair and around his ear, stroking, and his hips grind against mine, driving us higher.
“Get a room!” Atlas teases playfully as he passes, ending his advice with a whoop and holler. He’s losing items of clothing as he dances, his skin glistening with sweat, just like we are. Cal scowls at her brother but when she sees I’m not angry, she nods her head and turns her attention back to the Cheshire Cat, another beast who looks ready to devour his mate.
“We can’t leave the party,” I murmur, meeting the toxic green eyes before me. “Not yet.”
“Anticipation makes everythi
ng sweeter,” March murmurs, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to the corner of my lips, purposely teasing, purposely in the wrong spot. “Would you like me to sit by the fire and stare at you? We can see how long it takes before I master the art of stroking you without touch.”
I move to clamp my legs together, but March presses his leg between mine, so I clamp around him instead. The temptation to grind against him is strong but I resist it, barely. “That sounds torturous,” I admit. “Will it be a test of how long we can last before we descend on each other?”
“Sure,” he murmurs, stroking his fingers against my skin. It frustrates me I can’t feel the skin beneath his shirt. He’s far too covered for my preference. “A test, nothing more. I’ll imagine you on your knees—”
“I kneel for no one,” I interrupt.
“I’ll happily kneel before you, Pretty Lily,” he purrs.
I grin. “You walked me right into that one.”
His eyes twinkle at my smile. “That doesn’t mean I don’t mean every word.” He releases me and steps back. “Go, grab something to drink. You might be hoarse later.”
I snort, a startled laugh slipping from my lips, and March freezes, his eyes riveted to my face. When I calm the laughing, I meet his eyes, grinning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he admits. “But if you keep laughing, I might hand you my heart on a bloody platter.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warn, narrowing my eyes. Not because I don’t want the love he’s offering, but because I saw March heal before my eyes. He’ll survive his heart being ripped out, and he would happily rip it out and put it on a plate, literally. There is no figurative in that statement.
“You know me so well, Pretty Lily. Not a fan of bloody hearts?” he asks, leaning forward to whisper in my ear. “How about cocks? I’ll give that to you, too.”
“Only if it’s attached to a frustratingly foolish Hare.”
“Room!” Atlas calls again, and March growls.
“I could say the same for you, Berserker,” he shoots back and Atlas stumbles.
“What?” Both him and Cal says at the same time, but Atlas’ eyes flicker. March is perceptive. I wonder whom Atlas has been eying that the March Hare noticed. Cal on the other hand, starts looking around the circle, searching, as if she can tell which person has caught her brother’s attention.
“I’ll go fetch you a drink,” March murmurs, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose that makes my cheeks flush, before finally stepping away. The promise still lingers in his eyes, and I find myself watching him move to where the food and drink have been set up. He grabs a plate and starts filing it with food. I don’t miss how he purposely selects things he somehow already knows I’ll like. The March Hare is another entity entirely, and I can’t help but like him.
Wendy comes out of nowhere and plops down beside me when I sit down, a smile wide on her lips.
“What?” I ask, raising my brow.
My eyes stray from the Hare to Peter where he sits quietly around another fire, still avoiding getting close to me. He looks away when I look toward him, but I know he’s been watching the entire time. I can always feel his eyes. I wish he would come over, wish he would try, but the more I push, the more he closes off. I’m at a loss with Peter Pan.
“He likes you,” Wendy murmurs as she leans in, and I jerk my gaze to her.
“March,” she clarifies, but her eyes twinkle like she could mean more than one person. Of everyone, Wendy is the most perceptive between the Daughters, the only one that’s realized there’s something between Peter and me. She doesn’t know, not truly, but she’s felt something, and that’s more than most have felt.
“He’s insane.”
Wendy shrugs. “Neverland isn’t so different. Everyone is insane.” Her eyes flick to Peter then and I can hear the words she doesn’t say, that Peter is the perfect example of Neverland being far from sane.
“There are bigger problem right now,” I sigh. I shouldn’t be acting so carefree when Wolfbane is trying to kill us all. I need to figure out the answers to the problem. I need to fix it all.
“There are,” Wendy agrees, “But we can look at those problems tomorrow. Tonight, enjoy the Hare who looks at you like you’re the moon.”
Wendy stands and leaves me there. She strolls up to Hook and I watch the two Captains smiling and laughing, such dangerous feelings to have in Neverland. But she’s right. One night of debauchery won’t kill me. Besides, I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want March.
I watch as he finishes heaping the plate full and grabs a wooden cup of drink, turning to head back my way. His form flickers briefly and two pixies move away, uneasy around him, but I watch him, never looking away.
His darkness doesn’t scare me.
And within three seconds, my decision is made.
MARCH
Twisting bodies. Sweat-slicked desire. An aura of danger. Blood dripping down their faces.
I shake my head, clearing the image. Sometimes, it’s difficult to tell reality from my own twisted mind but tonight, I’m only focused on one thing.
The Chieftess with her eyes riveted on me.
I want her. Wonder, I want her with a vengeance, and I’d put myself out there. If she decides to turn me away, to focus on the war at hand, I’ll respect her wishes, but I can’t help the draw I feel towards her. Something inside me recognizes something inside her, and I don’t think it’s our monsters beneath the surface. It’s something else.
Fate, maybe.
Blood. The screams of their pain. The sweat-slicked desire floating in the air.
I growl at my mind. Sometimes, I hate the madness. I don’t know how the Hatter moved passed it. I don’t understand how Clara chased it away. My madness feels ingrained in my head, as if I can never scrape it out.
I’d tried once. I’d been in a healing coma for three days. Our brains aren’t meant to be touched while living.
I take a seat next to Tiger Lily and offer her the plate. Her eyes sparkle as she takes it, picking up a piece of meat and taking a bite. I watch her, enraptured. I’d feed her if she’d let me, but that feels like something that should be done in private. My Pretty Lily is a Daughter, a leader, and she can’t show any weakness. I know that. It doesn’t mean I can’t spoil her when there are no eyes on her but mine, though.
We sit in silence, both picking at the plate, eating the food there, watching the dancing and the thrum of music.
The copper smell on the wind. The flames licking sweat-slicked bodies. The deep thrum of screams of agony.
“Wendy says I should treat tonight as if we don’t have any problems.” Tiger’s words interrupt my madness and I turn towards her in gratitude. One day, I’ll explain exactly what ails me, why I seem so insane, but not tonight. Tonight is for something else.
“A wise piece of advice,” I muse. “From what I’ve seen, Neverland will descend into madness soon.”
She nods. “I think so, too. But then I started to think about what I would do if there wasn’t a threat hanging over us all. What would I miss out on because of it?” Her eyes crinkle and the smile that pulls at her lips is all sensuality. “I thought of you.”
“Oh?” I grin. Bodies littering the ground. Blood. The smell of copper on the wind. “And what about me did you think of?”
She sets the plate down and tosses back whatever sort of liquor I’d filled the cup with, before standing and offering her hand. “Come on, Hare.”
“Where are we going?”
“Would you like me to stop and explain it?” she teases, dragging me around a corner away from the fire and into one of the Fae homes.
“Are we allowed to be in here?” I ask. I don’t really care, but it feels like there might be rules in the Coven. Rules could mean life or death.
I kick the door shut behind us regardless and turn to look down at Tiger Lily. Her eyes glitter dangerously, and I harden at the sight. But I won’t make a move unless she does, because I’m a lot to deal
with. If she accepts me regardless. . .
“Stop thinking so hard,” she growls and stands on her tip toes, her arms circling my neck. “Just feel it.” And then her lips are pressed to mine.
For half a second, I freeze, surprised, but that’s all it takes for a growl to vibrate in my throat. I wrap my hands around her waist and turn her, pressing her against the door. I take control of the kiss, slamming my claws into the wood on either side of her head, pressing my hips against the apex of her thighs.
Permission. She’s given me permission, and I’d meant my words when I said I’d devour her, when I said I’d kneel for her.
Her claws rip my shirt open, and I freeze at the sudden movement.
Her eyes widen.
Chapter Twenty-One
PETER PAN
I watch as Tiger Lily disappears with the Hare around the corner and something inside me both roars and accepts what’s happening. I like the Hare, as much as I’m able to, but I ache for Tiger Lily. I wish I could go to her, that I could give her what she needs, but I’m not that person.
I can’t even claw my way through the darkness stuck in my throat.
Before we all grew up, I’d been carefree. I’d been dark, troublesome, but I hadn’t truly known what sort of beast I was then. Then we aged, and suddenly, every bad thing I’ve ever done came crashing on my shoulders. I saw the faces of every child I convinced to come to Neverland only to be turned into vicious Lost and disappear. I saw the blood I spilled before there’d ever been Daughters to rule Neverland, when I was the only being with power. I saw the pain I’d put Wendy through, the face of Wolfbane as I’d shaken him free.
I see Tiger Lily’s face a lot.
Her pain, the pain I’d had a hand in, the new pain I give her now; I see everything, and I wish I could wipe it away as easily as I do the blood from the gashes appearing on my skin.
They don’t even hurt anymore. I hardly feel them open, and when I do, it’s more like a nuisance now than a problem. The darker my thoughts become, the more I accept my fate, the more often they open. Sometimes, they come with a violent squeeze of my heart muscle. Sometimes, they open wide enough to see bone.
Fierce as a Tiger Lily (Daughters of Neverland Book 2) Page 12
