Page 11 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

“Whoa there,” the man said as I stared in horror at his crown.

True love’s kiss. I’d heard of it before. It had been used to break many curses, but it also bound the people together.

No, I couldn’t be bound to this man. This stranger. I’d sacrificed everything so that I would never have to answer to anyone ever again. I’d given everything so that me and my people could be free, could live our lives the way we wanted. So that I could be free. Castle promised . . .

I jabbed a finger at the table. “Turn me back,” I said.

He stared at me in disbelief. “Turn you back . . .”

“To stone. Turn me back to stone.”

He shoved a hand through his wavy dark hair, which fell back into place, brushing his shoulders. “If it’s the physical aspect of this that repulses you, I can assure you, we need not consummate anything⁠—”

“It’s not that.” I stepped forward. “If you ever tried to touch me against my will, I would make you regret it. That is not the problem. The problem is that I am supposed to be the one true queen of this castle. I am supposed to be the sole ruler.”

Not beholden to anyone.

His jaw set, and he straightened. “No,” he said simply and spun on his heel, walking toward the open door.

“I will not marry you.” I trailed after him.

“You will,” he said. “Because it has been deemed so. And we will save Fairwitch Isle.”

“Fairwitch . . . what?” My pulse spiked. “Is Fairwitch here?”

“No.” He stomped up a set of stone stairs, and he had to bend slightly so his head didn’t hit the ceiling.

I followed after him, my entire world feeling like it was falling apart all over again. I looked down at my wrists, feeling chains locking around them, the same ones I’d been forced to wear as a slave, the metal rough against my skin, and I squeezed my eyes shut. No, no, no.

I would not marry this man. No matter what it took, I would find a way to be free.

CHAPTER 5

Castle

In the thousands of years since Fairwitch left for the Otherworld, Castle had only chosen wrong a handful of times. There was the high prince who’d tried to break Castle apart to steal some of its magic for himself. Castle had thrown him out a window. There was the queen who’d broken from the pressure of ruling Fairwitch Isle, and she’d thrown herself out a window.

And now, now there was Aoife the Warrior Queen and Lorcan Wolfgang, who hated each other so much they couldn’t agree on a single thing. Castle had been so sure Lor was the right man to lead Fairwitch Isle, that Aoife the Warrior queen was the right woman.

But they weren’t right together.

A crash sounded in the room they’d been trapped in, raised voices arguing, a door slamming that rattled Castle’s walls.

Castle was tired.

It hadn’t just chosen its rulers over the years, but it had also brought people together, helped them find love.

Each of the Wolfgang brothers had been stubborn in their own way, resistant to fall for the women Castle knew they needed, but there had at least been a spark, something for Castle to work with.

There was no such spark between Lor and Aoife, only hate. Castle did not know how to work with hate.

“Well, that was a complete failure,” Cillian Wolfgang said as he strode into Castle’s great hall, followed by his two brothers, Wolfe and Nevan.

The queen’s former lover, Ambrose, looked up from where he sat at the long table, raising a goblet of wine. “Come to commiserate?”

Castle had been surprised by Ambrose’s willingness to participate in the brothers’ matchmaking scheme. Castle still hadn’t quite figured the faerie out.

The Wolfgang brothers dropped into chairs, and Castle made a goblet of wine appear in front of each of them. It seemed as though they needed it.