Page 99 of Freeing Hook

Amusement flashes across the Nomad’s face. “The Fates? Friends? I wouldn’t call them that. Is that what you two would call one another?”

Immediately, I shift my hand away, breaking contact between me and Astor. His hand doesn’t move.

“Let’s just say we look out for one another,” says Astor, the firmness in his voice surprising me.

“The point is that you maintain contact with the Fates, don’t you?” I ask, hating the lack of assurance I betray by how high my voice spikes at the end of the question.

The Nomad taps his fingers against his biceps, arms still folded. “Communing with a Fate is a rather complicated process. And even if it weren’t, the Eldest Sister doesn’t like her decisions challenged. If she Marked the two of you, it’s because she’s scoured through all the possible matches and made a decision that’s in your best interest. Even I have to admit, she’s hardly ever wrong. You’d do well to heed her advice.”

“We don’t have complaints about who she’s Mated us to,” I say, at which point I think I glimpse Astor cringe out of the corner of my eye. The Nomad must see it too, because his blue eyes dart toward Astor ever so slightly before focusing back on me. “Captain Astor’s Mate is dead. He just wants to be rid of his suffering.”

The Nomad actually laughs. His smile would be beautiful if he weren’t so eerie. If he weren’t mocking Astor’s pain. “You’re even more naïve than you look, Miss Darling.”

I go rigid. “How do you know my name?”

He smiles. “I know plenty of things. But no need to worry, it’s not so sinister as you believe. I have my scouts collect information on anyone who ports near the Gathers. Iunderstand that the two of you dispatched one of my own earlier this evening.”

Astor goes stiff next to me, his hand still tented on the table, flexed and ready to unsheathe his blade, when the Nomad leans across the table. “No need for alarm. He was outside the borders of my protection, rendering retaliation unnecessary. Besides,” he says, homing in on me, “the two of you are intriguing enough to live. What are you trying to do, Miss Darling? Take away his pain?”

I can take away your pain.

Unease slithers through me. He’s right. I’m not here for Astor. Astor can take care of himself. I’m here for Peter, to find a way to rid him of the curse.

I should know better than to try to take away anyone’s pain. Let Astor do what he wants. It’s none of my business, anyway.

The Nomad must be bored of taunting me, because he turns toward Astor. “I can’t help you remove the Mark. Unless you’d like me to take a blade to that wrist of yours, of course. I do enjoy the sensation of slicing through bone.”

Astor withdraws his hand, tucking it into his pocket casually. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Pity,” pouts the Nomad.

I barely hear him, shocked that such a simple solution would work. For the barest sliver of a moment, my mind takes me away with it, and I’m imagining clawing my Mark from my face. Scraping away at my skin until there’s nothing left to bind me to Peter.

For a fleeting moment, I let myself glimpse through the peephole of a door I previously thought locked to me, into a world where neither Astor nor I are Marked. A world where he is free to let go of his wife, and I am free from the Mark that ties me to Peter.

But of course, that wouldn’t work. Tink already clawed at my Mark on the island of Neverland, and when my wounds healed, the Mark healed with it.

“If you don’t let me do it, it seems your Darling girl might just do it anyway,” the Nomad says smirking at me. “You’ve been looking contemplative over there.”

Shame washes over me as I return to the present. When I glance at Astor, he’s staring at me intently. Unreadable.

But I get the eerie sensation he can read me. Stare directly into my soul and glimpse what I was thinking—the slightest betrayal of Peter. Of my Mate.

My Mate. I repeat the term in my head like my brothers’ lives depend on me searing it into my memory.

“You thinking of ridding the captain here of his Mark?” asks the Nomad. “Or yourself of yours?”

My face goes scarlet, and I scramble for my defense. “I was just thinking of how that would never work.”

Astor and the Nomad both look at me questioningly, but I refuse to look at the Nomad at the moment, so I focus on the captain. “Tink.” When he raises an eyebrow, I go on to explain. “She’s a faerie that inhabits Neverland. She had a fling with Peter in the past. He brought her to Neverland, but when it didn’t work out, she refused to leave. She didn’t much like having me around.” I caress my face, where the scars have healed over from her attacks. “Tried to claw my Mark off. Clearly, it healed back over.”

“Well, perhaps if you ever get desperate, you can ask the captain here to cut that pretty head of yours off,” says the Nomad through pearly teeth.

Astor actually flinches, and the Nomad holds his palms up. “I meant no offense. The two of you truly are a serious lot, aren’t you?” When neither of us answers, the Nomad sighs. “Tellyou what. I’ll see what information I can gather. I no longer commune with the Fates, but I might know a way.”

“What’s the price?” asks Astor.

“What? You don’t think me a generous spirit?” Again, when the Nomad is met by unamused silence, he swivels his attention to me. “This Tink character? What kind of faerie is she?”

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