The Fae Princes

Copyright © 2023 Nikki St. Crowe Published by Blackwell House LLC All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. CONTENTS Acknowledgments Before You Read 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 Chapter 34 Epilogue Also by Nikki St. Crowe About the Author ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This book would not be possible without the help of several readers. We can all agree that in the original Peter and Wendy, the depiction of Native characters was extremely problematic. When I set out to do a Peter Pan retelling, it was important to me to keep the Native presence on the island, but it was of the utmost importance that it be done in the right way. I have to thank several sensitivity readers for helping me portray the twins and their family stories in the Vicious Lost Boys series in a way that was accurate and respectful to the Native culture, even if the twins reside in a fantasy world. This was especially important in book four when we visit the fae and dive deeper into the twins’ backstory. A huge thank you must go to Cassandra Hinojosa, DeLane Chapman, Kylee Hoffman, and Holly Senn for their continued feedback, insight, and advice. You were and continue to be extremely helpful and I appreciate you so much! I would also like to thank Brianna for her invaluable feedback and guidance on the portrayal of the character of Samira “Smee” in Their Vicious Darling. Thank you, Bri, for your time, energy, and feedback! Any mistakes or inaccuracies that remain in this book are entirely my own. BEFORE YOU READ The Vicious Lost Boys Series is a dark romantic reimagining of Peter and Wendy. All characters have been aged up and are 18 and over. This is not a children’s book and the characters are not children. Some of the content in this book may be triggering for some readers. If you’d like to learn more about CWs in Nikki’s work, please visit her website: https://www.nikkistcrowe.com/content-warnings To all the girls who know the sound of a silent scream. “Peter was not quite like other boys; but he was afraid at last. A tremor ran through him, like a shudder passing over the sea; but on the sea one shudder follows another till there are hundreds of them…” J.M. BARRIE PROLOGUE THE MOTHER The Mother is barefoot, the child squalling in her arms. He is a troublesome boy, restless and hard to please. Mischievous too. This she knows without having known him long. He is only two weeks old, but that is long enough. She knew he would be trouble the moment she gave birth to him. Out of all her children, his birth was the hardest, the labor intense, painful and drawn out. Now, the cool sand of the beach squeaks beneath her feet as she makes her way to the water’s edge. The night is sharp but warm, the stars bright, and she turns her face toward the universe and smiles at all of them. Then the baby wails. He has no voice yet, only complaints, and he likes to make them known. Pay attention to me, his cries say. For I am most important. Mischievous and arrogant. If she keeps him and gives him a place among her other children, he will destroy them all. She knows this as 1 PETER PAN This must be a waking sleep. More nightmare than dream. When I slept in my tomb, sometimes I would wake to its total, silent darkness and wonder if I was still caught in the sleepworld. Perhaps this is that, but instead of darkness, there is golden light. It’s the only sensible answer. Tinker Bell is dead. Killed by me. There is no way she’s standing on my balcony, speaking my name. Hello, Peter Pan. An eternity passes in an instant. Tinker Bell’s wings flutter behind her. She is the same age she was when I killed her, immortal and ageless, more beautiful than any corpse has a right to be. She’s wearing the same dress she wore that night, when I spoke the unspeakable words to her. The dress made to look like skeleton leaves, cut square across her chest, jagged at the knees. Fairy dust swirls around her and coats the balcony’s railing, making it glitter in the graying light. “Tink.” I haven’t spoken her name in