Lost In Neverland

Chapter 20: Shadows and Shackles

Peter

The cold metal bars pressed against my back as I slumped to the ground, my breath labored and uneven. The jungle outside the cage was alive with sounds—the chirping of insects, the distant rustle of leaves—but none of them masked the mocking laughter of the Lost Boys as they faded into the darkness, leaving me alone.

I tried to shift, but pain lanced through my side where Asher’s lackeys had struck me during the fight. My shirt was damp with blood, and every breath sent a sharp ache radiating through my chest. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the weight crushing my heart.

Gwen.

Her name echoed in my mind like a lifeline, pulling me back from the brink of despair. She was out there somewhere—alone, vulnerable, and possibly hurt. And I was stuck here, a prisoner in a cage, unable to do anything.

I leaned my head back against the bars, my eyes falling shut as frustration bubbled up inside me. I had failed her. I had promised to protect her, to get her home, and now… now I wasn’t even sure I’d ever see her again.

The thought twisted in my chest, a heavy, suffocating weight that left me gasping for air.

I clenched my fists, the cool dirt beneath me grinding against my palms. “I’m going to find her,” I whispered to myself, the words a quiet vow. “I’m not leaving her behind.”

But first, I had to get out of here.

I opened my eyes, forcing myself to focus on the cage around me. The bars were rusted but sturdy, and the lock—crude but functional—mocked me from just beyond reach. I didn’t have my dagger anymore; Asher had seen to that. My fingers brushed against the hem of my shirt, searching for anything I could use as a tool, but there was nothing.

My breathing grew heavier as my options dwindled. I slammed my fist against the bars, the sound reverberating through the jungle.

“Damn it!” I hissed, my voice raw.

I couldn’t let it end here, not like this.

The memory of Gwen’s face flashed in my mind—her caramel eyes filled with determination, her voice trembling as she told me she cared. She was the first person in years who had looked at me and seen something more than the island’s cursed shadow.

I wouldn’t let that go.

Gritting my teeth, I stood, my legs trembling beneath me. Every movement sent pain lancing through my side, but I ignored it, gripping the bars and testing them for any weakness. They didn’t budge.

The jungle beyond the cage blurred as my vision wavered. The blood loss was getting to me, making it harder to think and harder to fight. I leaned against the bars, my forehead resting on the cool metal, and closed my eyes.

“Peter Pan,” came a voice, low and mocking.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I recognized the tone. Asher.

He stepped into the moonlight, his wiry frame casting long shadows on the ground. His grin was as sharp as the blade he twirled lazily in his hand.

“You look worse for wear,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “What’s the matter, Peter? Lost your spark?”

I glared at him, refusing to answer.

He crouched just outside the cage, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You used to be a legend,” he said, shaking his head. “The boy who could never be caught, the one who defied the rules of the island. And now? Look at you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat, my voice weak but defiant.

He chuckled, standing again. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re broken, Pan. And that girl you’re chasing? She’s probably dead by now.”

My hands clenched around the bars, the metal digging into my skin. “She’s not dead,” I growled.

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe it’ll make this cage feel a little bigger.”

I lunged forward, the bars rattling as I strained against them, but Asher didn’t even flinch.

“Get comfortable,” he said, turning to walk away. “You’re going to be here for a long time.”

His laughter echoed through the jungle as he disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone once more.

I sank back to the ground, my chest heaving as despair clawed at the edges of my mind. The cage seemed smaller now, the weight of the island pressing down on me harder than ever.

But I wasn’t giving up.

Not on Gwen. Not on myself.

The cold, damp air of the jungle pressed against my skin as I slumped against the bars, my vision swimming. The ache in my side had dulled, replaced by an all-consuming exhaustion that dragged at me like an anchor. I fought to stay awake, to keep thinking, but my body betrayed me.

My head fell forward, and the world went dark.

When I woke, the light was different. The harsh silvers of the moon had been replaced by the golden hues of dawn filtering through the jungle canopy. The sounds of the island were louder now—birdsong, the distant rustle of leaves, the faint roar of the ocean.

It had been a day since Tinkerbell took Gwen.

I sat up too quickly, the pain in my side flaring as I hissed through clenched teeth. My fingers pressed against the wound, sticky with dried blood. The Lost Boys hadn’t cared enough to tend to it, but it hadn’t been deep enough to kill me—not yet, at least.

The events of the previous night rushed back like a flood. Asher’s smug grin. The fight. The cage. The overwhelming helplessness as I thought of Gwen, alone and vulnerable somewhere on this cursed island.

No. She wasn’t just somewhere. She was alive, and I would find her.

I forced myself to my feet, swaying slightly as I gripped the bars for support. My mind raced as I studied the cage again, my earlier despair replaced by a fierce determination.

“Think, Peter,” I muttered under my breath, my voice hoarse. “You’ve gotten out of worse.”

The lock was crude, its mechanisms visible through the rusted metal. My fingers brushed over my shirt, searching for anything—a pin, a splinter, something I could use to pick it. But the Lost Boys had been thorough when they stripped me of my dagger and anything else useful.

My gaze darted to the ground outside the cage. Twigs, rocks, and scraps of debris littered the forest floor, but everything was just out of reach.

I crouched, gripping the bars and stretching my arm through the gap as far as I could. My fingers brushed a jagged rock, but it slipped further away when I tried to grab it.

“Come on,” I growled, pushing harder, the sharp edges of the bars digging into my skin.

My muscles screamed in protest, but finally, I managed to hook the rock with my fingers and drag it closer. I pulled it through the bars, relief washing over me as I turned it in my hands. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

I knelt by the lock, pressing the rock against the mechanism and twisting it, the crude edges grinding against the metal. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I worked, and my jaw clenched with my effort.

The lock groaned, resisting me at every turn, but I didn’t stop. Minutes passed, my breath coming in short gasps, but finally, with a sharp snap, the lock gave way.

The door swung open with a loud creak, and I stumbled forward, catching myself on a nearby tree.

Freedom.

I didn’t waste time celebrating. The jungle was vast, and Gwen could be anywhere. Tinkerbell’s magic had taken her far—too far for me to track her easily. But the island had a way of pulling people toward the places they were meant to be, and I would follow whatever thread I could find.

First, though, I needed to tend to my wound. Blood loss and exhaustion would only slow me down, and I couldn’t afford that.

I tore a strip from my already ruined shirt, tying it tightly around my waist to staunch the bleeding. The makeshift bandage wasn’t perfect, but it would hold long enough.

As I moved deeper into the jungle, my senses sharpened, my ears straining for any sound, any clue. I called her name softly, careful not to attract unwanted attention.

“Gwen,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “Where are you?”

The island’s magic felt heavier than usual, its pull more insistent. It was as though the island itself knew what I was searching for—and didn’t want me to find it.

Branches snagged at my arms, the underbrush cutting into my legs as I pushed forward. My body screamed for rest, but I ignored it, my focus locked on one thing: finding her.

Tinkerbell’s twisted form flashed in my mind, her glowing yellow eyes and erratic movements. Whatever she wanted with Gwen, it wasn’t good.

And I wouldn’t let her win.

With every step, my determination grew, and the image of Gwen’s face fueled me—her stubbornness, her fire, and the way she looked at me like I was more than just the shadow of the island.

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening.

Hold on, Gwen.

I’m coming for you.