Queen of Dreams

QUEEN OF DREAMS A DARK RH ROMANCE PETER PAN RETELLING BRUTAL NEVER BOYS 3 MONA BLACK CONTENTS Queen of Dreams Part I 1. Wendy 2. Wendy 3. Jas 4. Wendy 5. Wendy 6. Peter 7. Wendy 8. Wendy 9. Wes 10. Wendy 11. Wendy Part II 12. Peter 13. Wendy 14. Wendy 15. Colt 16. Wendy 17. Wendy 18. Tink 19. Wendy 20. Peter 21. Wendy 22. Wendy 23. Peter 24. Jas 25. Wendy Other books from Mona Black! About Mona Black QUEEN OF DREAMS (BRUTAL NEVER BOYS #3) What makes us go back to our fears and dark desires, again and again, unable to escape? I thought it was all over. That I was back in the human world, for good this time. Back in my apartment, with my friends, my job, my life. But the heart works in mysterious ways and it won’t let me rest. When I find out that the Lost Boys might still be alive, I jump at the chance to go back to the island and save them. Losing them would be unbearable, even though I ran away from them once before. Only problem is, saving them means I’ll have to face my greatest fear, plunge into the unknown and accept what I did and who I am. Can I do it? Will it work? And even if I manage… where do we go from there? Will love prove strong enough to save us all? *NOTE: this is the third and final book in a trilogy featuring mature situations with some dark themes and adult language. Warning for DubCon, blood, gun, & Knife play, violence, kidnapping, stalking, forced proximity, bondage, light bdsm, unhinged psycho men and M/M relationships.* Queen of Dreams (Brutal Never Boys 3) Copyright © Mona Black 2023 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No AI was used in the creation of this book. Published by Black Wing Press. PART I “To die will be an awfully big adventure.” ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan 1 WENDY “Jas,” I whisper, running down the stairs and stepping out, onto the street. “It’s you. Jas!” Cold wind hits me, sending me a step back. I lower my head against it. He’s still there, staring at me with wide eyes, his dirty white shirt flapping a little, his black slacks looking kind of torn and rumpled. Holy crap. It really is him. “Wendy,” he breathes. “You know me?” “I remember you. You were on the island.” “You do remember it, then.” His jaw relaxes a fraction, then tightens again. There is a ticking sound. He’s gripping a pocket watch in one hand. It seems to be encased in crocodile skin. “That’s not good.” “Why not?” “You were supposed to forget. Always forget, whenever you come back home. It’s how it works.” “Well, I do remember you, and… Peter and the others.” He’s frowning but even so his gray eyes widen a little. “God almighty.” Such a quaint little swearword, so fitting with his clothes and bearing, and yet… A savage grin, a bruising grip, a violent thrust between my legs, a snarling shadow at his back— “Wendy.” He catches my hand as I gasp for breath, trying to sort through swirling memories of faces, places, moments, recent and old, buried and foggy, bright and sharp. “Let go.” “Fuck, sorry.” He releases me, mouth tightening. “I shouldn’t have come here. I just wanted…” “What?” I clasp my hands together, press them to my churning stomach. “What did you want?” “To see that you’re okay,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “Because your memories of your past had returned, dark memories, so I thought…” He sighs. “Fuck, it was stupid. You probably forgot all about that already.” I shake my head. “I haven’t.” Another gust of wind makes my teeth chatter. “Damn,” he says. His face is burned by the cold, his lips chapped, his eyes red-rimmed. He has streaks of what looks like dried blood on his bare forearms, under his rolled-up sleeves. He has to be freezing his ass off in this weather. So I make a strategic decision. “Come on up.” He blinks, pale lashes sweeping back up, bright eyes boring into mine. “Not a good idea.” “You’ll get hypothermia if you stay out here dressed like this. That wouldn’t be a good idea, either. Where’s your coat?” “Didn’t bring my garderobe with me, sweet cheeks.” “Garderobe?” I blink. “You mean your clothes? Left them on the island?” “There isn’t an island to speak of, Wendy, if you recall,” he says quietly. “It has sunk to the bottom of the ocean.” Swallowing hard, I nod. “Yeah, I know.” “There’s only a rock left out of the waves, what used to be the Hill, so I had to cross over here to… to get provisions.” He sounds like he wanted to say something else. I grab his hand and he jerks a little, obviously not expecting it. “Come on up. We can talk there.” “About what?” He doesn’t resist, though, letting him tug him inside the building and up the stairs. “It’s over.” “You’re still alive, though. How?” “I was on that rock.” He sucks a sharp breath. “Last man standing.” Opening the apartment door, I lead him inside and shiver pleasantly at the warmth instantly enveloping us. “And what did you do? I thought… I thought you would jump into the sea, too.” “What do you care?” He pulls his hand free, examines it as if I wounded him just by holding it. “You’re home now.” I open my mouth to retort something, but I’m not sure what it would be. So instead,