Page 35 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

I’d gotten so lost in my thoughts, I almost missed the quiet voices echoing in the dark. The final stair appeared, jagged and broken, and I stepped off of it into the dim corridor, lit only by a few sconces flickering on the wall.

It smelled ancient down here, like even the dust lining the bars of the cells had been here for thousands of years.

The voices echoed again, whispers that I might have mistaken as the wind or Castle playing tricks if I didn’t suspect that Lor was down here right now.

I walked deeper into the dungeon, passing empty cell after empty cell. These cells used to be filled with mortals, Fair Folk, even godwitches who had broken laws or displeased Fairwitch. I shuddered, remembering how it felt to be stuck in one of those cells, the smell of urine and feces filling the air.

I continued on, turning around a corner and delving further in, darkness swallowing me while the voices became louder, enough that I could make out the words.

“You need to decide,” an unfamiliar male voice said. “You can’t just let me die in here.”

“You’re not going to die,” Lor said, frustration lacing his words.

What was this? I’d certainly never heard of a prisoner being held down here. I had missed many meetings and not paid attention in many more, but I was sure someone would’ve said something about a prisoner, especially when they were so rare. I crept forward, turning yet another corner and quickly scrambling backward when I caught sight of Lor with a hunched male figure.

“Do you know what new weapon the brotherhood might possess?” Lor asked.

The brotherhood? Why would this prisoner know about them . . . unless he was one of the brotherhood.

“I’ve been stuck in this cell for two years. Everyone in the brotherhood assumes I’m dead. What could I possibly know?”

“Maybe they told you of plans they had before you left.”

I peeked around the corner, Lor’s back to me while the prisoner still sat on the stone ground, looking up at Lor.

“Before I was taken prisoner, you mean?”

“Damnit, Ronan, this is important.”

Ronan. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.

“You were part of the same brotherhood as I was. We both disappeared at the same time.”

“Yes.” Lor’s voice grew impatient. “But you were part of a different faction, privy to information I might not have had.”

“I might’ve heard talks about various plans, but that doesn’t mean any of them came to fruition. I might be more willing to speak if you gave me some incentive.”

Lor shoved a hand through his hair, his muscles coiled tight with frustration. “I can’t let you go,” he said. “You’ll find a way back to the brotherhood, and you’ll tell them exactly where we are.”

“They know where you are,” Ronan said, and I caught a flash of a sneer on his face.

“No,” Lor said. “They don’t.”

I was having a hard time following this conversation. I knew Lor used to be a spy, that he’d infiltrated the brotherhood, worked his way up in rank, and the entire time was trying to bring them down from within.

“And if you’re not going to let me go, then just kill me,” Ronan said. “I’m going to lose my mind being stuck down here all alone in the dark. You have to do something with me. You have to decide.”

“I know that,” Lor snapped, and he began pacing.

I’d never seen him so agitated. Well, he was agitated all the time with me, but not like this, not so outwardly showing it. The king was always this perfect image of calm. So decisive.

It dawned on me why this situation was so hard for him. Lorcan Wolfgang didn’t know what to do. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to kill this man for whatever reason, but it also wouldn’t allow him to let the man go. This man who always seemed to know everything, who always had an answer, who was practically perfect, was keeping a brotherhood member down here in the dungeons in secret.

“What did I ever do to deserve this?” Ronan croaked out.

“Nothing,” Lor said. “You just got stuck in an unfortunate situation, and I am doing my best, Ronan. I’m trying to keep you alive while figuring out a solution that won’t mean someone getting hurt.”

“That’s not always possible,” Ronan said, coming to a stand.