Devourer of Men (Devourer, #1)

by Nikki St. Crowe

The peanuts immediately make me think of him, my mortal enemy, and I move away from the scent as quickly as I can.

Not enemies for much longer I bet, hehehe

I cannot go home. I have no home other than my ship. Peter Pan made that clear enough.

It's been a couple years since I read the 4 never king books... I might have to re read them 😬

As I sailed here, I plotted all of the ways I’d make Captain Hook scream. But now that I’m standing in front of him, a scream doesn’t seem quite as satisfying as a moan.

Called ittttt

We are a dichotomy, the Captain and I. He wants to forget who he is and I am afraid I might not remember who I was.

To be bold is to be truthful and I am built of lies.

“Blow jobs are a power dichotomy,” he says and sits up straighter, dusting the shell from his hands. “Most people think that being on your knees and getting railed in the face is a position of submission. But a man is never more vulnerable than he is when his cock is in someone’s mouth. Especially a mouth with sharp teeth.”

The Captain is sexy AF when he’s flattering me.

I wish AF was bit used here. pulled me right out of the fantasy.

“Please accept my apologies.” I reach across the table and pat her hand. “I plan on fucking him tonight so I must decline.” The Captain sputters and it takes everything in me not to laugh out loud. “He is not!” he tells the girl, and then he looks at me. “You are not!” “Don’t blame you,” she says to me, ignoring Hook while talking about him. “He’s a fine handsome dandy.” “That he is.” “I’m right here,” he grumbles.

HA

“Quiet!” Her voice rings out with authority, but it is not overwhelmed by age. It’s clear and steady. My eyesight is better than a mortal’s, but I think she’s purposefully obscured herself to make it harder for me to see.

Part of me feels that wendy has become the queen

That is until she’s free of the shadows. Until my eyes take her in. The frown turns into gaping. I don’t gape. Not often. Sometimes maybe. Sometimes when I see something pretty I like and want to fuck or bite. Once upon a time, I wanted all from her. I wanted to fucking drown in her. I wanted her to make me forget. “When the queen asks for silence, you obey,” she says. The Captain’s mouth drops open too and he breaks her rule within seconds of her declaring it. “Wendy Darling,” he says. “You’re alive.”

CALLED. IT.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN WENDY

In a book with multiple point of views, there's always a point of view that I don't actually care about or don't want to hear from. Unfortunately in this book it is Wendy 😮‍💨

I make my way over to Roc. “Join me in a dance.” It’s not a question. Roc and James share a look and then Roc is rising to his feet, towering over me in that dominant way he has. I always felt small next to him and that hasn’t changed. “I would be honored, Your Majesty.” He takes my hand in his.

I bet shes using this to try to talk to him

The Captain lowers his voice, leaning into me, but it still sounds like he’s shouting at me. “You can’t go around threatening to kill someone in a foreign court!” “Now who’s being ridiculous? Of course I can.” “The fact that you never concern yourself with consequences⁠—”` “Is impressive?” I cut in. “No.” His scowl deepens. “Worrisome.” “Ahh. That was going to be my seventh guess.”

I lift my little finger. “It’s a pinky promise.” She smiles nervously, then hooks her pinky around mine. The heat that rises in her neck turns her skin bright red. “Go on then. We are now bound by oath.” This brightens her eyes. “Well…” Her gaze darts over my shoulder as if she’s looking for eavesdroppers. But my hearing is better than her vision and I don’t detect anyone within twenty feet and those in the kitchen are too busy buzzing around cleaning up after the five-course meal. “There are rumors about a witch infiltrating the court.” “No!” I say, aghast. “Yes. The king and the prince do not age, you see. And it all started with the arrival of the new queen, Queen Wendellyn.” Wendy changed her name? “Then what?” The girl leans in. We’re co-conspirators now and we’re having a hell of a good time.

Maybe a distraction or two to clear my head.

😏😏😏

“You get six words. More. Harder. Stop. Slower. God. Fuck. Now stop being so difficult and let me take care of you. All right?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE WENDY Asha finds me hiding in my secret room.

YOU'RE GONNA STOP THERE AND JUMP TO FUCKING WENDY?

I try James’s door first, rapping softly against the wood, but there is no sound on the other side and when I poke my head in, I find the room empty. Where is he? I glance down the hall to Roc’s room where the door is shut. I go there, but before I can knock, I catch the sound of faint grunting and my heart catches in my throat. What if Hally has already gotten to them? What if he’s trying to hurt them right now? I burst into the room and⁠— I suck in a breath. The blood freezes in my veins. “Oh god.” I stumble back. “I—I…I shouldn’t…oh god.” They are on the bed, together, sweat coating their skin.

I knew this would happen

Theo stops us at the end of one of those unused hallways and puts his finger to his lips. The panic escalates. “What is it?” Asha whispers. “I don’t see⁠—” Theo pulls a thick, stubby baton from his belt and whacks Asha in the head. I shout, then clamp my hand over my mouth. Asha’s eyes roll back and she crumples to her knees, blood flowing freely from a large split in her temple. “Theo! Why did you do that?” “She was working against you.” “What? Asha? No. That’s not right.” Theo grabs my wrist and yanks me in the opposite direction. I look back at Asha’s unconscious body as Theo pulls me into the shadows. Have I had it all wrong? Every day I spent in this court, I questioned people’s motives, whether or not they were using me, working against me, or worse, plotting against me. Never once did I question Asha.

Girl. Be so for real right now. HE is the bad guy.

The witch goes on. “It was a coin toss as to whether William or James—” she tilts her glass toward me “—were the subject of the fortune teller’s prediction, so I took a gamble and chose you. Your father wanted me to fix you, but I just needed a map. So using what little power I had left, I gave you a part of myself, the most important part: my magic.” I instinctively glance down at the cut on my arm, now crusted over black. “You set sail one day and you never returned,” she says. “Because of course you quite literally stumbled into the Seven Isles when I had been searching for my way through for decades. But once you were there, all I had to do was track my magic and follow you.” She spreads out her arms. “Voila. I am home. But what I didn’t account for is that you would impregnate a Darling and that the Darling baby would give its mother power too.” My mouth drops open. That explains Wendy’s ability to heal. And it begs the question: was the power continually passed down through the familial line? Does Winnie Darling have some power inherited from the Myth Makers?

This is the first time he's even brought up the fact that Winnie is his like 5x Great Granddaughter.

Theo wrenches the dagger from my grip and then turns it on me. Still gasping for air, I block his advance, crossing my forearm in front of his. But I’m not strong enough to fight him hand to hand for long. The sharp end of the dagger gets closer and closer to my chest. Theo grits his teeth, pushes forward. If he strikes, he’ll pierce through my heart and I’ll be dead. I don’t exactly know what I’m fighting for anymore, but I know I don’t want to die. There’s only one option. I have to control the outcome.

Where TF is Roc and Asha?

“Shut the fuck up,” Theo says and winds back his hand to slap me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Theo comes to a sudden halt. Roc emerges from the shadow in the tunnel’s natural curve. Behind him is Asha, blood crusted on her forehead.

There they are

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. I don’t have to think about what I’m about to do. Whatever the consequences, they’ll be worth it. The line of guards between me and the Captain is twenty-wide, but that’s at least fifty fewer than they’d need to stop me. I target the guy in the middle, the one with the trembling grip and sweaty brow. I hit him with my shoulder. He flies back easily and slams to the floor with an umph. I wrench the sword from his grip and close the rest of the distance between me and the witch in the span of a breath. Her crude blade hits my stolen sword with a clang. Her nostrils flare, her gaze meeting mine in surprise. “Mine,” I tell her. The ticking gets louder in my head. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. It’s time the Crocodile came out to play.

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO

I meet her eyes. There’s so much she doesn’t know, so much she has to catch up on. “It’s a long story. Perhaps for another time.”

I gotta re-read the Never King books.

The Myth Maker witch. Christ. “What’s happening?” I ask again. He clutches at my jacket, his yellow eyes wide. There is terror in his gaze. “What do I do?” I ask him, desperate for something, desperate to save him. I can feel him shaking as if he can’t quite hold himself together. “I need Vane. I need my brother. Take me—” He sucks in a breath. “Take me back to Neverland.”

and we're OFF TO NEVERLAND! let's fuckin GOOOOO babyyyy