Lost In Neverland

Chapter 2: The Strangered Episode

Peter

Neverland had changed. I felt it in every shadow, every breath of wind that whispered through the trees. It wasn’t just the aging—though that was the most obvious. Something in the magic was broken, twisted. The island, my home, was no longer the same. And neither was I.

I perched on a low branch, high enough to keep watch over the shoreline but close enough to feel the damp earth underfoot. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting a silver glow across the waves that lapped at the rocks. The air was thick with the scents of salt and moss, mingling with something sharper and more alive—the faint metallic tang of magic. My fingers toyed with the edge of my dagger—a habit I couldn’t seem to break. It helped me focus and kept the restlessness at bay.

The laughter of the Lost Boys echoed faintly from the forest behind me. Their games were different now, rougher and meaner. They were growing wild, untamed, like the island itself. I’d tried to control it, to hold onto the Neverland I’d known, but it slipped through my fingers like sand.

And then she arrived.

I’d sensed the disturbance before I saw her—a ripple in the air, like the island’s magic had hiccupped. I’d gone to the shoreline out of curiosity, half expecting to find nothing. Instead, I saw her.

At first, I thought she was some mirage. She rose from the water, her dress clinging to her like a second skin, glinting in the moonlight. The deep red silk hugged her body, accentuating curves that drew my gaze in ways I didn’t understand. Her long golden-brown hair tumbled over her shoulders in damp waves, glinting faintly with streaks of lighter gold. Her skin was sun-kissed, a warm tan that seemed to glow under the moonlight, and her caramel-colored eyes were wide with fear and defiance. She didn’t look like she belonged here, and yet there she was, stumbling onto my island like she’d been dropped from the stars.

She called out into the trees, her voice shaky but loud enough to carry. “Hello?”

I stepped out of the shadows before the Lost Boys could. They would’ve swarmed her, and I didn’t trust them not to harm her. She froze when she saw me, her eyes darting to the dagger at my side. Smart girl.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, letting my words hang in the air.

Her gaze snapped to mine, and I caught a flicker of something in her expression. Recognition, maybe? No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t recognize me. She’s wondering if she’s seeing things. I saw it in the way her lips parted, the disbelief that tightened her features.

“Where is here?” she asked, her voice steady despite the tremble in her hands.

“Neverland,” I said.

I expected her to laugh, maybe call me crazy. Instead, she stared at me like she was trying to piece together a puzzle. “Neverland? Like Peter Pan?”

“That’s me,” I said, my voice sharp. I didn’t want to linger on what that name meant. Not now, not with the island falling apart around me.

She let out a shaky laugh, the kind that sounded like it could turn into a sob at any second. “No. No way. This is… this isn’t real. I’m dreaming. Or I’m high. Or...”

“You’re here,” I interrupted, stepping closer. Her wide eyes tracked my movement, wary but unafraid. “And you’re not leaving.”

Her breath hitched, and I felt something stir deep in my chest, unfamiliar and unsettling. I didn’t understand it. Desire wasn’t something I’d ever felt—not like this. It wasn’t just her beauty, though it was undeniable. There was something else about her, something alive and electric, that called to me in ways that made my pulse quicken.

The island seemed to hum around her, its magic drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was different. She was dangerous.

“Why?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why can’t I leave?”

I sighed, the weight of the answer pressing down on me like a stone. “Because the island doesn’t let anyone go.”

She didn’t understand yet. She would, eventually. The realization would creep in, slow and suffocating, like the vines that overtook everything here. But for now, she just stared at me, her brows furrowed, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

“What’s your name?” I asked, breaking the silence.

She blinked, surprised by the question. “Gwen. Gwen Bezares.”

Gwen. The name felt strange on my tongue, foreign and too soft for a place like this.

“Peter,” I said, though she already knew. “Follow me, Gwen. If you want to stay alive.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But then she nodded, her shoulders squaring as if bracing herself. I turned and started toward the forest, listening as her footsteps crunched hesitantly over the sand behind me.

She had no idea what she’d walked into. And neither did I.

The forest swallowed us quickly, the thick canopy above blocking out the moonlight. Shadows danced between the trees, twisting and shifting with every step. I led her down a narrow path, my senses attuned to the sounds of the island. The rustling of leaves, the distant call of a bird, the occasional snap of a twig—Neverland was alive, and it was watching us.

Gwen stumbled behind me, muttering curses under her breath. “This place is a nightmare,” she said, brushing a branch out of her way. “It’s like it’s trying to trip me on purpose.”

“It is,” I said over my shoulder. “The island doesn’t like newcomers.”

She glared at me, her caramel eyes flashing in the faint light. “Great. That’s just what I needed.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips despite myself. She was sharp and quick with her words, even in the face of fear. It was... intriguing.

We came to a small clearing, the ground carpeted with moss that glowed faintly in the dark. I stopped, scanning the trees for any sign of danger. The Lost Boys were nearby—I could feel their presence—but they were keeping their distance for now.

“What now?” Gwen asked, crossing her arms. Her dress was torn at the hem, dirt smudging the once-pristine silk, but she still held herself with a kind of defiance that was almost admirable.

“Now, we wait,” I said. “The island will test you.”

“Test me?” she repeated, her brows furrowing. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see.” I leaned against a tree, watching her carefully. The island’s magic was already stirring around her, subtle but unmistakable. It would push her, challenge her, and force her to confront things she didn’t want to face. It did the same to everyone who came here.

Gwen let out a frustrated sigh, her gaze flicking to the shadows. “You’re really enjoying being cryptic, aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer. The truth was, I wasn’t sure what the island had planned for her. But I couldn’t look away, couldn’t shake the feeling that she was important. To Neverland. To me.

The forest grew quiet, the air thick with anticipation. And then, in the distance, came the sound of laughter—high-pitched and eerie, echoing through the trees.

The Lost Boys were coming.