Page 62 of Caging Darling

Once I’ve breathed through the dizziness, I begin securing the rope around the branch of the tree.

Then I wait.

By the time the beating of Peter’s wings rustles the leaves of the canopy above, my thighs are screaming in protest, my feet and core aching. I don’t care all that much.

This pain is nothing.

I swallow, then place the noose around my neck. The harsh fibers scrape against my throat, calloused fingers lying in wait to choke me.

To snap my neck.

Something moves on the forest floor below. I startle, almost losing my balance on the limb. My heart pounds with the knowledge of how quickly my life could have ended just now.

It’s strange, fearing death instead of welcoming it.

Maybe Astor would be proud of me, after all.

I wait for the beating of Peter’s wings to draw closer. I’ll have to time the jump perfectly. Jump too late, and he’ll know I was waiting for him.

Jump too soon…

My hands go clammy with sweat.

The leaves are rustling now, not with the gust of Peter’s wings, but with the weight of his body as it descends.

I jump.

CHAPTER 22

There’s a moment of weightlessness, and it’s unlike flying in Peter’s arms, because there’s nothing holding me other than the light touch of the noose. My stomach rises to my throat.

And then I fall.

“Wendy!” Peter screams my name like his world is being ripped apart.

I have him.

Thrill and dread ripple through me. The ground hurdles closer, but just as I’m sure the noose is going to snap taut…

Peter catches me.

“Wendy, my darling little thing.” His pet name isn’t kind, though it never has been. Anger flashes in his eyes, but panic too, as we hover in midair, the noose having already tightened around my neck.

I can’t breathe, and Peter grabs at the rope, snapping it. I inhale a gust of air, my heart hammering out of my throat.

We stare at each other for a moment. Him, in utter disbelief.

Me? I make sure my face conveys disappointment.

When we land, Peter isn’t prepared for me to spring out of his arms and stumble backward. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you hurt me like that?” he asks, his voice trembling, his fists too, at his sides.

For one horrifying moment, I wonder if he’s about to hit me.

“I’m just so, so tired…” I say, dropping to my knees like I can hardly hold myself up. It’s not a lie, really. “I can’t. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to breathe anymore.”

Peter rushes to my side, kneeling beside me on the floor of the forest, stroking his fingers through my hair as if his touch doesn’t absolutely repulse me.

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