Author's Notes: Can you guys believe it's already December? Anyways, this chapter has more mature content in it. You have been warned! And it is a longer one! Yay! As always, I hope you all enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the OUAT characters, however the story is entirely my own : )

Chapter 11

No one knows that the shadow attacked Peter and Wendy feels that she should tell the Lost Boys immediately all that she has learned this night. But she does not want to leave Peter.

She is sitting by his bed, hesitant to join him under the warm furs and pelts. It feels improper to slip into his bed without him knowing. Instead, she wanders around the room.

She sifts through the maps that he has scattered across the table, each one covered in markings, no doubt searching for the missing Lost Boys. She opens a drawer in his dresser and studies the various daggers and bows and arrows placed inside. She continues around the room until her eyes land on a small shimmering object that rests on his nightstand in the far corner.

In the silvery moonlight she recognizes it almost immediately as an iridescent mermaid scale. Felix had said that he and Peter went to Mermaid Lagoon to find the scales, but what was the purpose? She remembers her being pulled underneath the water by the beautiful yet dangerous creatures. She can't imagine why anyone would want to keep returning. She would not even be alive right now if it weren't for Peter. He had saved her. Pulled her up from the bottomless depths and out of the mermaids' claws. The scale must be extremely valuable if Peter was willing to go to the lagoon to collect them.

So entranced by the beauty of the small object, Wendy fails to notice that Peter has begun to awaken from his fitful sleep.

"You can keep it if you want."

She whirls around to see him sitting upright in bed, a sheen of sweat coating his face. She rushes to his side, pressing a hand to his forehead. "How are you feeling, Peter? You have a fever. Do you want me to get you anything? A glass of water? Some broth?"

She is fussing over him, but she cannot help it. She is worried about him. It is a strange feeling that she has never felt before, but it twists her stomach into knots and makes her anxious. She quickly grabs a cloth and soaks it in water before placing it to Peter's brow. Their eyes lock and her heart skips a beat. She is incredibly close to him, leaning over him with her hand to his forehead. It would take very little to simply lean forward and press her lips to his. She can imagine that it would feel spectacular to feel his soft skin against hers, their bodies pushing against each other until they were as close as one could be to another…

She shakes her head to rid herself of such inappropriate thoughts. She should be concentrating on helping Peter recover, not daydreaming fantasies. So lost within her mind, she barely hears Peter say, "You can have the mermaid scale if you want. I don't need it."

She startles before looking to the scale that still rests on the nightstand, it's gleaming surface seeming to wink at her. "You don't mind if I have it?"

He shrugs his shoulders, flinching when his wounds ache at the movement. "I have no use for it."

"Then why did you get it?"

He averts his eyes from hers, opting to stare at the floorboards instead. "I thought I could use it. I can't."

Her brow knots in confusion. "How come?"

He rolls his eyes in exasperation. "Are you done with all of these questions?"

She is about to open her mouth with a smart reply, but then thinks better of it. Instead, the two stare at each other, each one assessing the other with a critical eye. It is Peter that breaks the tense silence. "I suppose I should thank you for defending me."

She has to blink twice before comprehending the fact that Peter Pan was expressing gratitude. Wendy opens her mouth to respond when he cuts her off again. "It was incredibly stupid, but… brave."

A deep crimson paints her cheeks at the compliment. "...Thank you, Peter. How are you feeling? Do you want me to change your bandages?"

He moves his legs to the side of the bed and begins to stand. She gasps and grabs onto his shoulders, urging him to lay back down. "Peter, you should not be trying to move about in your condition!"

He lightly grasps her wrists and moves them from his shoulders, gently placing her hands back by her sides. She tries to withhold her sudden intake of breath just from that simple touch. "Wendy, I'm fine."

"You cannot be fine. You're injuries were quite severe."

Peter rolls his eyes in exasperation and sighs. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he deftly moves his hands down to his abdomen and removes the bandages with skilled ease. Tearing her eyes away from his burning emerald ones, she looks down to his torso and is utterly shocked to see that the two large, bloody gashes are almost completely gone. The only hint that they even existed are the faint pink lines marring his tanned, golden skin.

Without thinking, she places her hands on his torso, gently tracing the faint scars with her fingers. "Impossible," she whispers. The skin was so smooth. Soft. She becomes lost in the action of running her fingers along the muscular surface, wishing that she could trace and map out every inch of it.

Wendy is so lost within her own world of temptation, she fails to notice that Peter's breath is becoming heavier. Faster. It hitches every time her delicate fingers dip lower, brushing the outline of his pants.

Peter can feel himself losing control. She has no idea what she is doing to him. She is so innocent and pure that she cannot see how tight she has wound him. He needs her. Soon. Now. It was so close. She is right there, touching him with such gentleness. He could simply take her. Ravage her completely until her every thought is consumed by him. Then leave her shattered and broken. He could do it-he has done it before. But something is stopping him.

He feels a change inside of him. He does not want to simply take her forcefully and leave her destroyed. He wants to take his time. He wants her to enjoy herself. He wants to show her pleasures that she had never thought possible. And he wants to be the only one to show her such pleasures-of this he was most sure of.

He slides a finger down her cheek, revelling in the softness he finds there. This action startles Wendy, causing her to look up, her hands leaving his abdomen. Remembering herself, she blushes. Peter feels his lips turn up unintentionally at the coloring in her cheeks. He finds it endearing.

His hand grips her waist, pulling her body flush against his, his blood boiling at the gasp that escapes her. On instinct, Wendy places her hands on his shoulders, needing something to ground herself from the quivering of her legs.

They are pressed tightly against one another and she can feel Peter's muscular form underneath the layers of clothing that separate them. A shaky exhale is all she can manage when his other hand drifts down, resting low on the small of her back. She stares intently into his eyes which are downcast, revealing nothing as to how he feels in that moment.

Wendy barely has time to understand what is happening before Peter's lips are brushing against her jaw. Her eyelids flutter close as she sucks in a sharp breath at his mouth against her skin, trailing kisses onto her neck and collarbone. Her hands weave their way into his hair and she is surprised when a low groan escapes Peter as her nails scratch lightly on his skin.

Her hitched breathing and hesitant movements only seem to urge Peter onwards, his lips mapping every inch of her skin available to him. She gasps when his hands, once gripping her waist, begin to move over her body, brushing against her sides and sliding down to her legs before travelling back upwards.

His hands and mouth burn a path along her body and she cannot seem to gather any coherent thoughts. She knows that she shouldn't be doing this. This goes against everything that her parents have taught her. They would be so ashamed of her. But it is right there in front of her and she has wanted this for so long that to stop now seems almost impossible. So she casts aside every thought of her disapproving family and simply lets herself feel. His lips tracing a burning path along her collarbone. His teeth nipping her sensitive skin. His hands mapping every inch of her body.

Wendy's heart is beating rapidly inside her chest and her breathing is erratic from his scorching touches. But Peter does not seem to care. In fact, he seems more excited by the sounds of her soft gasps and sighs. His lips trace up her neck and along her jaw until he reaches his goal. His mouth hovers just shy from her own. If he were to move it only the slightest distance, they would be kissing. And Wendy wants it. Desperately.

She leans her head back to look into Peter's eyes and they lock gazes. She can see the burning passion and need, but there was something else there. Something more tender and sincere. It disappears before she can really identify the raw emotion, but she ignores it as she sees Peter's face inching closer towards hers, until she can feel his breath upon her face. On instinct, she closes her eyes and lifts her head, anxious for their lips to meet.

Just when she feels the slightest brush of his skin against hers, a sharp knock reverberates throughout the small room, followed by the unmistakable sound of a wooden door opening.

Peter immediately steps away from Wendy, already missing her soft heat. He growls. A deep, warning sound that rumbles from the back of his throat. He was so close. He could see her barriers crumbling with every brush of his lips against her skin. He could feel her arousal emanating from her, matching his own until the entire room was heady with their intense heat.

He slowly turns to the intruder, already imagining all of the ways that he could punish the poor soul who dared enter his room without knocking. His ire only rises when he sees Felix standing at the threshold, his slate eyes glancing between Wendy's flushed face and disheveled hair to his state of undress and obvious arousal. Peter can almost see the gears turning in Felix's head as he pieces everything together and cannot help but feel pleased at his envious expression.

When Felix still has not spoken, Peter says "This better be good, Felix. Can't you see that I am preoccupied at the moment?" He makes no attempt to stop the growing smirk that appears on his lips. It grows tenfold when he sees Felix's clenched fists and gritted teeth.

"A pirate ship was spotted off the northern shores." His tone was cold. Distant.

Peter rolls his eyes, his frustration rising. "You interrupted my evening to tell me that Hook and his pathetic excuse for a crew are having another pointless search on the other side of the island?"

Felix shakes his head. "Some of the crew have sailed ashore and are now scouring the Neverwoods. They are heading in the direction of the camp."

Wendy's eyes widen and she turns to Peter. "Captain Hook is real? Is he not dangerous?"

Peter scoffs at her naiveté and dismay. "Honestly, Wendy. You have seen deadly mermaids and walking shadows. Is it that hard to believe that there are pirates on the island, as well?"

She says nothing and he turns to Felix. "Hook is of no concern to me. Send some of the boys to scout the area and have them report back if the pirates are spotted. Do not engage-they are not worth the effort."

Felix nods. A soldier following orders from his commanding officer. His eyes glance between them for the briefest of moments, hesitating on Wendy for only a second longer before leaving quickly, the door closing behind him with a resolute click.

Peter makes a reminder in his head to punish Felix later for interrupting him and Wendy. He glances to the girl now, his arousal instantly returning at seeing her in such a disheveled state. He can feel his blood singing throughout his body and pooling between his legs, showing his need to anyone who dared to look.

She stands there, clearly uncomfortable for being discovered by Felix. She cannot even look Peter in the eye and he knows that whatever moment they had was gone. He silently curses Felix and swears that he will pay dearly for his untimely interruption.

Wendy is not sure what she should do. She was embarrassed and ashamed. How could she fall into temptation? How could she let herself be swayed so completely by just a single touch? Her parents would be appalled if they knew what she had just done. Wendy startles.

Her parents. She cannot remember their voices. She cannot remember their faces. When was the last time she even so much as spared them a passing thought? She concentrates on conjuring an image of her mother and father, but she only comes away with a faint impression of a man with a stern countenance and a woman with a kind smile. A crease forms between her eyes as she focuses deeply on what her parents' names are. John and…. Mary! She stands there, horrified with herself. She was so completely consumed by the boy standing in front of her that she has nearly forgotten her own parents.

Before she was swept away to Neverland, London was under attack. Buildings were crumbling, the streets ran thick with blood, and her once beautiful city was on fire. Wendy has no idea if her parents are even alive and well!

Peter watches the war being waged behind Wendy's eyes with mild fascination. He is grateful that he has freed himself from such ridiculous emotional attachments for this exact reason. He no longer cares what others think of his actions and behavior. He can do whatever he pleases. But as he says this inside the privacy of his own mind, something irks him. He cannot put a name to the feeling that overwhelms him, but it constricts his throat and causes his pulse to flutter. What was that?

So lost by his unusual reaction, he almost does not realize that Wendy is leaving his room until he hears the creak of an old wooden floorboard. He turns to her. "Where do you think you're going?"

She flinches at having been caught. Sighing, she says, "I need to see Felix. I should explain our… previous behavior."

Peter shakes his head, whilst tamping down the quickly rising fury blazing underneath his skin. "You don't need to explain anything to him. He was the one who walked in on us-and he will be punished for that. Do not feel that you owe him an explanation."

Still uncertain, Wendy bites her lip and his eyes track the movement, already imagining a million different things he could do with that mouth. That sweet, innocent mouth. But he shakes every last thought away, an idea coming to the forefront of his mind. "Would you like me to show you how to fight?"

She blinks. "Why would I need to know how to fight?"

He smirks at her, amused by her innocence. But his smile fades at his next words. "Neverland is a dangerous place, Wendy-you must know that by now-and I want to know that you can defend yourself when I am not with you."

Wendy grows silent at his words and deliberates on how she should respond. But as she looks across the room to Peter, her gaze drifts to the two faint scars across his abdomen. "Will you not always be with me?" she blurts out, her voice trembling and her need to be close to him apparent.

Peter raises his eyebrows, obviously surprised by her plea. She blushes in response and looks down at her feet, embarrassed under his intense gaze. She expects harsh laughter or a snort of derision, but what she does not expect is the silence in the room. She hesitantly raises her head to meet his eyes and she can see that flicker appear once more. It catches her breath at the appearance of such a raw emotion in his expression. She wishes Peter would show it to her more often instead of these brief flashes that disappear before she can really analyze what they mean.

"I cannot promise you that." His tone, although not unkind, is cold and indifferent and Wendy tries to push down the crushing waves of disappointment that threaten to drown her. "But," he says, and she looks up, feeling the smallest shimmer of hope. "I will kill anyone who dares to so much as come near you."

Wendy's heart lifts at his declaration. She knows she should not trust him. She should not believe anything Peter Pan says. But against her better judgement, she does. She believes what Peter said is true. He will not always be by her side, but he will do everything possible to make sure no harm comes to her.

"And if anyone lays a hand on you," she looks back up to him and a shiver runs down her spine at the deadly intent in his eyes. "I will rip out their beating heart."

Felix's words come back to her from their earlier conversation and a feeling of dread settles deep within her stomach. He has claimed you as his.

Looking across the room at Peter, she sees his clenched fists and his cruel smile. The murderous gaze in his burning emerald eyes that promise a painful death.

She has a bad feeling about this.

Peter leads her to the edge of the Neverwoods, and if she were to squint carefully through the dense foliage, she would be able to see the dark rippling waters of the ocean where she had been dropped the first day on the island.

She sighs. What seems like so long ago, could really only have been a few days. So much has happened that she is beginning to feel the physical exhaustion seep in. But there is something exhilarating about this place. Yes, Neverland is wild and chaotic and extremely dangerous, but it is also freedom. She almost forgot what it felt like to have no responsibilities and expectations. It is rather exciting.

Peter interrupts her thoughts. "Here is fine."

Wendy glances around the small clearing they were standing in, completely exposed to anyone who happens to glance in their direction. She turns to him and says anxiously, "Are you sure about this, Peter? I thought Felix said the pirates were on the island."

Peter scoffs, offended. "Hook and his crew are hardly a threat." He looks to her and still sensing her unease, he smiles maliciously. "You have no need to worry, Wendy. I will gut anybody who comes near you."

Her stomach twists at the thought of Peter killing someone for her sake, but the discomfort soon fades when he begins to circle around her as though she is meek prey and he a fierce predator. He holds his gleaming dagger in one hand, a wicked smile gracing his lips. She watches him move gracefully, his steps purposeful and silent. A skilled warrior.

Before she can question what he is doing, Peter moves. It is sudden and swift, and she hardly has any time to blink before he is upon her, dagger poised right underneath her chin, a hair's breadth away from her neck. She gasps when she feels an arm encircle her waist from behind, pulling her backwards into a warm, muscular chest.

"Peter," she breathes out, all too aware of the blade at her throat. But she was not scared. Not in the slightest. She felt oddly relaxed pressed against his frame. She felt safe.

He chuckles and she can feel his breath against her neck. It sends a pleasant shiver down her spine.

"Yes, Wendy?" he asks, his arm tightening around her. He leans down to lightly brush his lips against her soft skin, fascinated by the soft gasps that escape her. He could listen to them for days and never grow tired.

She concentrates on articulating her words as he molds his lips to her skin. "H-How is this teaching me to f-fight?"

Peter stops his actions, smiling at the trembling in her voice. He steps back, letting go of her entirely and removing the blade still poised at her throat. She finds herself missing his heat. She turns and sees a smirk pulling at his lips. "You are quite right," he agrees and pulls another smaller dagger out of his jacket, handing it to her.

She hesitantly grabs the blade, wrapping her hand around the cold metal. She has never used a weapon before, she doesn't even know how to hold it correctly. Seeing her uncertainty, he covers his hands with hers, positioning her fingers until she was firmly gripping the dagger.

Wendy tries not to show how much his touch affects her. Every time his fingers brush against her arm or his hand rests at the small of her back, there is this jolt that courses throughout her entire body and sends her heart pounding.

Once Peter decides that she is positioned correctly, he steps back, sinking low into a fighting stance. He points his dagger towards her, his smile mischievous. Wendy is not sure what she is waiting for as the two stand poised in the middle of the clearing. But even if she was prepared, she would not be able to block his attack.

He moves with brutal speed and efficiency, that her eyes cannot possibly hope to track the movements. He comes at her so fast that she all she can do is close her eyes and brace herself for the pain of his strike. But it does not come.

She hears him chuckle from right beside her and hesitantly peers through her lashes to see that Peter has captured her in the exact same hold as before, his arm wrapped around her with his dagger at her throat. When he laughs again, his breath tickling her ear, she huffs in exasperation and rolls her eyes. "How is this teaching me to fight? I do not know what I am supposed to do. I am not strong or skilled like you."

She cannot see his face, but she can hear the smile in his voice, enjoying the praise. "Fighting is not always about brute strength. Battles can be won through the mind."

"I suppose so," she yields. "But what can I do when you have me trapped in your hold?"

She can feel him bring his lips to her ear and her eyes flutter at his soft skin brushing against hers. "Think. Weigh your options. Sometimes it is not about which opponent can deal the most blows, but which can deal the deadliest."

Wendy breathes deeply to calm her nerves before weighing her options like Peter said. She could slam the heel of her shoe down on one of his feet, but he said to go for the deadliest blow and that would not do much damage. She looks down to see that Peter has his arm caged around the upper half of her body, but her forearms and hands are free to move. She turns her head only slightly to see that his body is angled to the side of her, not directly behind her. Suddenly, an idea comes to Wendy's mind.

She smiles inwardly and with as much strength as she can muster, she brings her fist up and swings it downwards, right between Peter's legs. But all she hits is thin air.

She turns to see that he has disappeared, his dagger no longer at her throat and his arm no longer encircling her body. She hears a chuckle behind her and whirls around to find Peter standing in the center of the clearing, shaking his head in disbelief. "I was not expecting that. Who knew you were devious?"

An angry blush rises to her cheeks.. "I am not devious. I was simply following your instructions and I looked for the 'deadliest blow.'"

He holds up his hands. "There is no need to get defensive. It was a compliment."

"Oh," is all she can think to say as she peers beneath her lashes to look at him. Wendy sucks in a breath.

Peter is staring at her with… pride? No, she must be mistaken. But as she gazes at him, it is written clear on his face. Unabashed pride.

She ducks her head, embarrassed by the praise in his eyes. She is not accustomed to such admiration. And Peter is the one giving it to her. Her heart pounds loudly inside her chest. It is a deep, unmistakable throbbing that makes her ache. She has the sudden yearning to race across the clearing, close the distance around them, and press her lips to his.

Her blush deepens at the thought and she shakes her head. She could not do that! It would be terribly improper. But he is still looking at her with that expression on his face, bathed in the silver moonlight.

When was the last time I did anything for myself? She was always caring for her brothers, obeying her parents, and following the rules of society. She cannot remember ever doing something purely because she wanted to. It is time I change that. With a newfound determination, she begins to march across the clearing, her steps purposeful and swift.

Peter raises his eyebrows as Wendy walks towards him at a rather fast pace. Their gazes meet and the intensity he finds there is almost overwhelming. The passion and conviction in her eyes is truly something to behold and it sends his blood pumping throughout his entire body as she nears him. He can feel a force pulling him towards her. As though she were pulling him.

The feeling is impossible to resist and he gives into it, letting himself be moved towards the center. Only until he can see the light freckles dotting her cheeks does he stop. They share a tense silence, each one trying to communicate without the use of words the unusual emotions they were feeling. He holds his breath, sensing what is about to enfold and thanking the heavens for the astonishing girl that is Wendy Darling.

They gravitate towards each other until they are sharing the same breath. He reaches out his hand to caress her cheek, amazed by the softness of her skin, while his other rests on the small of her back, pushing her towards him until not a blade of grass could come between them. He loves the gasp that escapes past her lips at the closeness of their bodies. He leans down, eager to press those delicate lips against his own. He has been waiting for so long. He is done waiting.

So entranced by the beauty in front of him, Peter fails to notice Felix coming into the clearing until he hears the soft footsteps approaching them. He lets loose a growl of pure fury and frustration. He releases Wendy from his grip and whirls on his oldest friend, seething with rage. Felix, to his benefit, maintains a calm, neutral expression when facing the furious beast.

"Felix, you are my second-in-command," Peter grinds out through his gritted teeth. "But do not think that I will hesitate in cutting you down where you stand if you interrupt me again. Understand?"

Wendy stares wide-eyed between the two, seeing gritted teeth and clenched fists. She holds her breath as Felix nods, only the slightest of movements. When Peter steps back and resumes his usual arrogant demeanor and self-important smirk, she releases the breath.

"So," Peter says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What is the problem this time? It better be good."

"Pirates have infiltrated the camp. The Lost Boys are battling them as we speak."

Peter curses under his breath. "How the bloody hell did they find the camp?"

"I believe Tiger Lily has betrayed us," Felix says with contempt.

Peter lets loose another string of curses. "I will deal with those bloody Indians later. For now, we need to get back to camp so I can take care of the pirates. They just made a fatal mistake." He and Felix turn to make their way back towards the camp when Wendy reaches out to grab Peter's arm.

"Peter, what is going on? Tiger Lily? Indians? What is happening?" She despises the way her voice sounds panicked, but she cannot help it. Peter is about to leave her.

His eyes are stern, no longer revealing any of the emotion they held not two minutes ago. "Wendy, I need to take care of this. You will stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"But maybe I could-"

"No." She startles at the severity and finality of the word. "You are staying here. I cannot have a foolish, ignorant girl stumbling around a battle that she has no place in. You cannot help."

Wendy is left stunned. Her heart feels as though it has been pierced with a dagger as she watches Peter and Felix disappear in the forest and she is left to stand alone in the clearing. She vaguely notices that the sun has begun to rise, but it does nothing to help the hollow emptiness where her heart used to be. A tear trickles down her cheek. She makes no move to wipe away the offending liquid.

She stands there for what could have been hours or minutes, Wendy does not know. What wakes her from her daze is the snapping of twigs and the padding of footsteps. Many footsteps. She whirls around to find herself confronted with almost a dozen men, all dressed in ragged clothing. Their faces were haggard and covered in dirt, each one wearing a mischievous smile that made her shiver. And all of them were armed with various swords and daggers, coated with blood.

Wendy wastes no time. She turns and runs, but she only manages to take two steps before a large, calloused hand grips her arm, spinning her back around and colliding into a large, burly chest. She looks up to see that one of the men has grabbed her and he is smiling with the few teeth he does have, his eyes travelling down the length of her body hungrily.

She immediately screams and tries to claw her arm out of his firm grip, but to no avail. The man is laughing at her struggle, along with his comrades who watch the show with mild amusement. His other hand is brushing against her body and she tries to swallow the rising bile in her throat. When he begins to drag her kicking body towards the other men who gaze at her with the same ravenous hunger, she screams. "Peter!"

She receives a reply, but not the one she was hoping for.

"Gentlemen." All movements stop and the men shift their gazes to something behind her. The large man who is gripping her arm releases her immediately and she collapses to the ground, sucking in large gulps of air through her hoarse throat. She hears the sound of heavy footsteps approaching her. When a pair of finely polished boots come into her field of vision, she lifts her head up to look at the man standing in front of her.

He is handsome, to say the least. His hair is dark and his eyes are a piercing blue. He is wearing black leather from head to toe. Her eyes trace his muscular build until they rest at his hand, or more precisely, where his hand should be. His left hand is missing and replacing the appendage is a sharp, gleaming hook. Her eyes widen.

The man crouches down in front of her, bringing his hook to rest underneath her chin, forcing her to lift her head so he could examine her face closely. His blue eyes lock onto her own and she feels as though he can see right into her heart, her soul. She wants to turn her head away from such a powerful gaze, but she does not dare with his deadly hook right against her neck.

She exhales a breath when he looks to the men behind her. "We have a young lady in our midst and she deserves the utmost respect." He turns his gaze back towards hers, and a knowing smile graces his lips. "Isn't that right, Miss Wendy Darling?"

She keeps her expression neutral, not wanting to show any reaction as to how he could possibly know her name. Instead, she smiles politely and keeps her tone pleasant and amicable when she says, "You are quite right, Captain Hook. You have my sincere gratitude."

His smile widens. "I see you are not just a pretty face, Miss Darling. I have a feeling that you and I will get along quite well."

Author's Notes: Sorry everyone, it is another cliffhanger! I hope all of you enjoyed this chapter! It was so much fun to write! Please keep reading and reviewing and thank you to everyone who has already left a review ! I love reading them! Until next time!