It was a memory that had been lost for so long. How she’d awoken to Peter in her room, upset and wrestling with his shadow. How she’d helped him sew it back on. That was the reason Peter thought she could put an end to it now.

How wrong they both had been.

“Alas, I was premature, I’ll admit, but not this time. I waited and let the feelings fester. The more he thought about you, the more he missed you and ached with longing, the stronger I became. And then finally, my opportunity came! Peter wanted to keep you, and he broke the rules. He brought you to Neverland, but you were no lost child, Wendy, not like your brothers.”

Wendy glowered at the shadow, her face pinching in confusion. She still didn’t understand. She looked at Peter, but he was barely conscious, his breaths coming sharp and shallow. His blue eyes tried to find hers, but they kept losing focus.

The shadow floated across the room in long, languid steps. It stooped over Wendy and clutched her chin with its sharp fingers. She tried to wrench herself free of its grip, but it was cold and strong as iron. The air around it drained the warmth from her skin, tickling the hair on her arms.

“Don’t touch her.” The breathless growl was Peter’s. Teeth clenched tight, he struggled against his restraints, shoulders lurching as his arms pulled and flexed, trying to break free. But it was no use.

The shadow kept all of its focus sharp on Wendy, but it closed its hand into a fist. The black ropes wrapped tighter around Peter, biting into his skin. An anguished cry ripped from his throat.

“Stop!” Wendy shouted in the shadow’s face. “Let him go!” She hated the panic and pleading in her voice, but how much longer would Peter be able to stand this torture?

Slowly, a triumphant smile stretched across the shadow’s lips, splitting its twisted face in half. “I know Peter’s deepest, darkest secrets,” it said, its low voice reverberating through Wendy’s bones. “Because I am those secrets. I am the consummation of his fears.”

It released Wendy’s chin. Her cheeks burned from where its sharp nails had bitten into her skin.

“His fears were about losing you. He was afraid of what you might think of him. That you would hate him and never want to see him again if you knew the truth.”

She couldn’t trust what it was saying. Everything it did, it did with purpose, to gain the upper hand. Wendy could see that now, and she wouldn’t let it consume her, even when she felt the panic coursing through her veins. “What truth?” she spat, but it continued on as if it hadn’t heard her.