22

Tensions in the forest reached a dangerous peak as Robin's anger boiled over. His hand tightened on the hilt of his dagger, and he took a menacing step toward Pan, his eyes locked onto the Fae prince.

"What’s to stop me from killing you myself and finishing what we set out to do?” Robin demanded to know.

My heart pounded in my chest as I stepped between Robin and Pan, my hands outstretched in a desperate attempt to defuse the impending violence. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until Robin’s eyes widened and looked at me with the worst things I had ever seen from him: betrayal and disgust. Like I had disappointed him in a way we could never recover from.

But I couldn’t let Robin kill him.

As much as I wanted to, I still needed answers about my brothers. Running had been stupid. I let my emotions get the better of me. The way he made me feel…

And now, he had saved us.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he had saved us, and if he didn’t get someone to tend to his wounds soon, there was a good chance he could die. And with him, any chance I had at finding my brothers. 

"No, Robin, please," I implored, my voice trembling. "I need him. He saved us.”

Robin's anger and frustration contorted his features, but he hesitated, his dagger still poised for action. I could see the internal struggle within him, torn between his desire for revenge and his loyalty to me.

Pan, though wounded and weakened, watched the standoff with a mixture of arrogance and curiosity. His possessiveness had not wavered, and he seemed to relish the rivalry for my affections.

“See, boy?” he said. “She needs me.”

I continued to plead with Robin, my eyes locked onto his. "We can't kill him now," I urged. "Not until we have the answers we need. We can decide what to do later.”

“Move, Wendy,” he commended.

“I will not,” I said. “I don’t want to fight you, but I will, Robin. You don’t understand.”

“I don’t care that he saved us,” Robin said. “You go back there…what then?”

I didn’t know.

“That was the plan the whole time, wasn’t it?” I pointed out.

“What happened?” he wanted to know. “Why did he chase after you? You’re nothing.”

“She’s mine,” Pan said. “She has her uses.”

“Please,” I said, ignoring Pan. “Let me take him back. Let me finish what we set out to do.”

Slowly, begrudgingly, Robin lowered his dagger, the fire in his eyes dimming. He cast one last venomous glare at Pan before stepping back, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.

“I can’t even look at you, Wendy,” he said, his voice low. “It hasn’t even been a day, and so much has changed. What’s going to happen to you when you go back there with him?”

Tears glistened in my eyes but I refused to let them fall. 

Robin cast one final, distrustful glance at Pan before turning on his heel and making his way through the forest. He didn't say a word, but the resentment in his eyes spoke volumes. He wouldn’t even look at me, and it felt like he took a cheese grater to my heart.

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to remind him that this was what he wanted me to do. But I didn’t.

I held it in.

I turned to look at Pan, who was leaning against a tree, his face etched with pain and exhaustion. It was then that I noticed just how sickly he was.

The wound inflicted by the wolf bite had taken a toll on him. His typically regal countenance was marred by a pallor that spoke of fever and weakness. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his breaths came in shallow, labored gasps.

Concern welled up within me despite my reservations. "We have to go," I said cautiously, my voice laced with unease.

Pan's response was a dismissive wave of his hand, but there was no disguising the agony that flickered across his features. "It's nothing," he insisted, though his words lacked conviction.

I couldn't ignore his suffering, not when the fate of Wonderland and my search for my brothers were so intricately tied to him. With cautious determination, I approached him and knelt at his side, my fingers gently probing the area around the wound.

His skin was hot to the touch, and the flesh around the bite mark had become inflamed and discolored. It was clear that infection had set in, and without proper care, Pan's condition would only worsen.

"You need help," I insisted, my voice firm. "If that infection spreads, it could become life-threatening."

Pan regarded me with a mix of stubbornness and vulnerability, his pride warring with his physical weakness. In that moment, the Fae Prince seemed more human than I had ever seen him.

Reluctantly, he nodded, his gaze locking onto mine. "Very well, mortal," he conceded. "But you will be the one to tend to it. No one else. I can’t have anyone knowing just how vulnerable I am right now.”

I tentatively wrapped an arm around his waist while his arm curled around my shoulder. It was clear his strength had been sapped by the infected wound. 

But I couldn’t think of that. 

I guided him through the dense and treacherous terrain of the Blood Forest. Each step was a struggle for him, and his usual air of regal superiority had been replaced by a palpable vulnerability.

The moonlight filtered through the thick canopy of trees, casting eerie shadows on our path. 

With each careful step, I supported him, my arm wrapped around his waist to keep him steady. He leaned heavily on me, his usual pride set aside in the face of his weakness.

We were silent. I didn’t understand why he came after me, why he risked himself to save me. And it bothered me that he would do something so uncharacteristic.

It was probably because he still needed me.

Funny.

He was in a palace surrounded by Fae, and he could only trust a mortal. 

As we emerged from the oppressive gloom of the Blood Forest and approached the castle, relief washed over me. The imposing structure stood like a sentinel in the night, a beacon of safety in this mysterious and perilous world.

With every ounce of strength I could muster, I helped Pan up the stone steps and through the towering doors of the castle. 

“In the back,” he instructed, his voice tight and weak. “There’s a door for the servants. Go there and take me to the room.”

As we made our way through the corridor and into the grand halls of the castle, Pan's condition remained precarious. Each step seemed to take a toll on him, and he leaned on me heavily for support. The castle's opulence and regal decor were a stark contrast to the vulnerability he displayed.

"To the left," Pan instructed in a hushed voice, his breath shallow and pained. He nodded at the wooden staircase. "It will lead us to my chambers more discreetly."

I nodded, understanding the need for secrecy. The servant's corridor was dimly lit, and we moved in near silence, our footsteps muffled by the thick carpeting. The aura of secrecy and hidden passages within the castle only added to the mystique of Wonderland.

Finally, we arrived at Pan's bedroom door. The room was adorned with rich fabrics and intricate designs, a reflection of the Fae prince's refined taste.

Pan sank onto the edge of his grand bed, his pallor even more pronounced in the subdued lighting of the room. 

I closed the door gently behind us, ensuring our privacy. The air was thick with unspoken tension, and the events of the night had brought us to a precipice of uncertainty.

Something snapped in me. Suddenly, he wasn’t Pan and I wasn’t Wendy. He was someone who needed help and I was someone who could offer it.

With a sense of urgency, I turned to Pan, my voice firm and determined. "We need to tend to that wound right away," I insisted. "Can you... can you use your magic to conjure up some clean water, bandages, and neosporin?"

"I didn't realize you cared," he remarked, his eyes fixed on me.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, not willing to give an inch. "As if," I retorted, my tone defiant. "I just need you for my brothers." I gestured at him. “The stuff? Surely, the great Fae Prince can still use his magic with a little flesh wound.”

Pan's lips curled into a faint, wry smile. "Keep telling yourself that," he replied, his voice holding a trace of challenge. He extended a trembling hand, and with a subtle wave of his fingers, a basin of clean water materialized on a nearby table. Beside it, a stack of soft bandages and a small jar of ointment appeared as well.

I couldn't help but be in awe of his magical abilities, even in his weakened state. But my concern for his well-being overrode any sense of wonder. 

I knelt down and went to look at the wound, only to realize I couldn’t.

Not with him being fully dressed.

I looked away, clenching my teeth together. I didn’t want to do this, but he wouldn’t get better since he was being so damn stubborn and not seeking help from people who actually had magic.

I took a breath. "You'll need to remove your tunic and coat so I can bandage this properly," I said, my words leaving no room for negotiation.

Pan regarded me with a hint of amusement, his eyes lingering on mine. "Very well," he replied, his tone deceptively casual. “But, pet, I think I prefer you to do it.”

“What?”

“My hands are too weak,” he said.

“You could just magic them off,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, but I don’t want to,” he said.

As I began to unbutton his tunic, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment. The air was charged with a palpable tension, one that seemed to crackle between us like electricity.

"Wendy," he began, his eyes fixed on mine. The sound of my name coming from his mouth sent shivers down to my core. "If I see you with Robin again, I will kill him without hesitation."

I blinked in disbelief, struggling to comprehend the weight of his words. I paused at my task, jerking my head back so I could look at him. "But why?" I asked, my voice filled with confusion. "I’m a mortal. I’m nothing to you. I’m not even part of this competition anymore. Why do you care?"

Pan's expression remained resolute. "I don't," he insisted, his tone unwavering. "But you belong to me. That's enough."

His possessiveness sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder at the depth of his attachment to me. He wouldn’t need me after we found out who was trying to kill him. Then, hopefully, he would let me go.

 His coat fell to the floor, and I made due with his tunic. Luckily, it seemed like the blood clotted, but I still needed to clean that as soon as possible.

“You see,” he continued, “I don't like the thought of you running off to another man. The thought of you with him when you’re rightfully mine…it makes me want to possess all of you, just to remind you of your place.”

“How can I forget?” I asked, glaring at him. “I’m a mortal, remember?”

“You fancy yourself in love with him, don’t you?” Pan asked, and even though there was a wicked gleam in his eye, there was a warning in tone, something dark and sinister.

I said nothing. I finished undoing his tunic, and that dropped next to the coat, revealing his bare torso, marred only by the infected wound on his side.

He grabbed my face with his hand. “You do, don’t you?” he asked after a moment.

“And if I do?” I asked.

He clenched his teeth together but said nothing. Instead, he dropped my face like it had burned him. My fingers trembled slightly as I began to carefully bandage the wound around his toned torso. The touch of my hands against his skin was intimate, and I could sense the unspoken desire that hung in the air.

Pan's voice, a low and seductive purr, broke the silence. "I wonder what he would think of you now," he remarked, his eyes locking onto mine. "Hands running all over my body."

I couldn't deny the provocative undertone in his words, nor the heat that rushed to my cheeks. 

“I’m dressing your wounds,” I snapped. “Because you saved me –”

“That’s right, I did, didn’t I?” He grabbed me again, drawing my face so close to his, I was sure we were going to kiss.

And I wanted it.

I wanted it more than I thought possible.

And I hated it. I hated myself.

“You’d best remember that,” he said. “I am your only ally here. You want information on your brothers? You’ll do exactly as I say. Do you understand? All romantic notions of you and that…criminal? Rid yourself of them now. You’ll remain here as long as I need you.”

“And how long will that be?” I asked.

Pan’s green eyes flashed at me but he said nothing.

Something dropped in my stomach, and I realized he was right. He was my only ally. But he was my enemy just the same. And I was a bird in a gilded cage, unable to break free.