Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
HOOK
The moment they haul me into the Queen’s palace, I know they’ve made a mistake.
Them, not me. Well, maybe a little bit me, because now I’ve got to wriggle out of this.
Not usually a problem—other people’s problems always become mine because, let’s face it, they always fuck up.
They always do. So maybe she’ll do the same.
We’ll see. I’ve walked straight into the lion’s den.
The guards drop me to my knees, hands tied behind my back, head bowed. I grit my teeth but say nothing. No point in fighting—yet.
The room is suffocating with grandeur, draped in rich crimson tapestries, the scent of roses clogging the air like a thick perfume, ready to choke the life out of me. Heart motifs everywhere, of course, but here they’re darker, more sinister. Not whimsical nonsense—more like a warning.
Then I hear it. The slow, deliberate click of heels on marble.
I raise my head just enough to see her.
The Queen.
She’s not what you’d expect. No garish dress, no over-the-top theatrics.
She’s all dangerous elegance—tall, poised, with long dark hair cascading down her back.
Her eyes are sharp, cold, calculating—a predator assessing its prey.
She’s beautiful in the way a blade is beautiful—sleek, deadly, and likely to slit your throat while you admire her.
She circles me, her steps slow and purposeful, long fingers trailing lightly through the air, as if she’s already toying with her prey. I keep my head down, playing the part—for now. I can play the good boy. Submission isn’t my thing, but I’m not stupid. I know when to bide my time.
“Captain Hook,” she drawls, her voice smooth as silk but edged with danger. Her fingers brush the back of my neck, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. She leans in close, her breath warm against my skin as she speaks. “What on earth are you doing in my kingdom?”
I lift my head slightly, just enough to meet her gaze. Time to play the game.
“Your Majesty,” I say, adding just the right amount of humility to my voice. “I’ve come seeking your aid.”
Her lips curl into a slow, mocking smile.
“My aid?” she repeats. She circles around to face me, her eyes never leaving mine, the train of her gown trailing behind her like a shadow.
The room falls silent. Everyone is listening.
Everyone is watching. And everyone is afraid.
That’s how you know she’s a good ruler. “And what, exactly, could you possibly need from me?”
My ego’s as big as her kingdom. This will be easier than I thought.
“Neverland,” I begin, forcing a slight tremble into my voice. “Its magic is dying, fading. I came to you, hoping... you might assist us. I hear your magic is stronger than ever.”
The Queen tilts her head, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous.
“My aid...” she repeats slowly, savouring the word. She steps closer, her fingers tracing a lazy line down my jaw, pausing at my chin to lift it, forcing me to look at her fully. Her smile sharpens, all teeth now—predatory. “Go on.”
I bite back the urge to flinch. “Without magic, Neverland will fall,” I continue, keeping my voice steady.
“The children are ageing. The mermaids grow weak. Even the stars...” I pause for effect.
“They don’t shine as they used to. I’ve tried everything, but I need more. I need your help, or I fear—”
The Queen laughs softly, a sound almost musical, but there’s nothing warm in it. “You need me.” She’s pleased. Her fingers trail down to my throat, her touch feather-light but with the threat beneath it. “How delightful.”
She’s loving this. Every second of it. I can see it in her eyes—the way they light up, the way her smile deepens. This is a woman who thrives on control, on watching others grovel for her favour. I don’t blame her. She and I, we’re cut from the same cloth.
“Help me,” I say, lowering my gaze just enough to give her what she wants. “Help Neverland, and I swear, you’ll have my loyalty.”
Her fingers tighten slightly around my throat, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who’s in charge here. Her lips curl into a satisfied smile.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?” she purrs, turning away from me with a swish of her long gown. “The infamous Captain Hook, reduced to begging. How utterly delicious.”
She saunters to her throne, settling into it with the grace of a panther, her eyes never leaving me. I’m nothing more than a toy to her, a plaything.
“Captain,” she calls to one of her guards—a tall brute of a man, clad in the same blood-red armour as the others.
He steps forward, eyes locked on me. “See to it that our guest is given a room.” She waves her hand dismissively.
“Get him cleaned up, too. He smells of fish and seawater. I despise the ocean.”
The guard steps closer, yanking me up by the chain that binds my wrists. I stumble to my feet, shooting him a glare, but he’s already dragging me towards the door.
“Oh, and Captain,” the Queen calls out, stopping us. “Make sure he doesn’t leave his room.” Her smile widens. “I’d hate for our guest to... wander.”
The guard grunts in response, and I’m shoved out of the throne room and into the corridor. My mind is racing. The Queen might think she’s got me where she wants me, but she’s about to find out she’s in for more than she bargained for.
As I’m led away, her mocking laughter echoes behind me, but I can’t help the small smirk tugging at my lips.
Let’s play, shall we?