Page 36 of This Is Not True Love’s Kiss

Dirt covered his ebony skin, and holes riddled his worn clothing.

“I brought this for you.” Lor reached through the bars, offering Ronan what looked like a soft blanket and clothes. “Yours are getting a little worn.”

In the blink of an eye, Ronan had grabbed Lor’s arm and slammed his back into the bars of his cell. He brought a hand around Lor’s throat, closing a tight fist.

I didn’t even think before I was moving, barging around the corner and portaling inside the man’s cell in a whirl of golden magic.

He didn’t have a chance to move before I’d reached out and slammed his head into the bars. He crumpled to the floor between Lor and me, both of us staring at each other. Lor massaged his neck, his deep brown eyes widened in shock.

“What in the godwitches?” he asked.

I portaled back outside the cell, shuddering at the feel of using the magic given to me by the godwitches. “That was me saving you.” I looked down at the unconscious man, his chest rising and falling with slow breaths. He’d awaken soon, and he’d have a horrible headache.

Lor backed into the stone wall and sank down, staring at Ronan with sorrow shining bright in his eyes. “I should’ve killed him long ago, but I couldn’t.”

I came to a seat next to him, a little unnerved by how indecisive he was acting. It softened my anger, lessened my instinct to lash out at him for hiding one of the enemy. “Why haven’t you killed him?”

Lor’s jaw worked back and forth. “Because he was just another soldier recruited by the brotherhood, someone manipulated by them. Another victim. And I’ve held out this hope that I could bring the brotherhood down, then set him free, let him live the life he deserved.”

The answer didn’t surprise me. It was a very Lor answer, but what did surprise me was my reaction. Admiration broke through my regular disdain, and I shifted, uncomfortable with the feeling.

His head hung, and he looked so beaten down, I couldn’t help but comfort him. “You can’t save everyone, Lor.”

“I can try,” he said, and he sounded so very tired. I wondered how much I’d contributed to the exhaustion filling his voice. “I failed so many, Aoife. I spent years as a spy for the brotherhood, and I didn’t accomplish a damn thing. I didn’t bring them down, didn’t stop their reign of terror, didn’t save all the people I promised I would.” He held out his hands, staring at them. “There’s so much blood on these.”

He harbored so much guilt, and I’d never realized it. Lor always seemed so confident, so sure he was right. This side of him wasn’t one I was used to seeing.

“You did save people.” I snorted. “That’s all I ever hear about from anyone: stories of what a hero you are, how you infiltrated the most dangerous group in the history of Aubergn, and you did it for years.”

Lor looked over at me, his eyes rimmed in red, and I wasn’t sure he’d heard a single thing I just said. “Why did you follow me down here?”

I shifted, back scraping the hard stone. “Castle brought me.”

“Ah.” His head thunked against the wall.

“How did you hide him for so long?” I tipped my head toward the prisoner, still unconscious. “How did he end up here?”

“It was over two years ago.” Lor stretched his long legs out on the floor. “Ronan was assigned to go on a mission to find Fairwitch Isle. He believed it was at the top of Kiln Mountain. I knew that’s exactly where it was, so I volunteered to go with him, hoping I could keep him from discovering Fairwitch Isle, lead him in the wrong direction. The problem was as we got closer to this city, I felt this tug.” He put his hands on his stomach. “Something pulling me toward this place that I’d never felt before. It’s hard to describe, but I just knew I had to follow it, to get to the castle no matter what.”

“Because I was there,” I said, knowing this part of the story. Lor had mentioned something about feeling this “pull” when he’d first awoken me.

“It was almost like I had no control over myself,” Lor said. “I’d brought one of my rebel members with me, and she tried to stop me, but I just kept going . . . leading Ronan right into Fairwitch Isle. He was so excited that we’d found it, and I just felt this horrible dread.”

“And that’s when you found me?” I asked.

He bobbed his head back and forth. “Well, it wasn’t that simple, but yes, eventually I found you, and once again, I felt that pull. I knew what I had to do. Leena was begging me not to. Ronan was just in shock.”

“Did Leena know you were from Fairwitch Isle?” I asked, noting the way he said her name, gentle and soft, like a caress. Nothing like how he addressed me. He always said my name with this severe, almost disappointed tone.

He shook his head. “No one knew I hailed from Fairwitch Isle. Not even any of the rebels. I never wanted to risk that information getting out. After your curse was broken and I was declared king, I let Leena go so she could return to the brotherhood and take over being the leader of the rebels. She could be my alibi, tell everyone that Ronan and I had died. Cover all our tracks. And as for Ronan, well, I was supposed to kill him. I told everyone I did.”

“But you couldn’t,” I said, feeling like for the first time since I met him, I understood a little more about this man.

“I couldn’t,” he affirmed. “I became king and was dealing with so much. Trying to make amends to my family, whom I’d abandoned for so long, trying to keep Fairwitch Isle safe, trying to rule beside you.”

It must’ve been hard being a spy for such an awful group of people. I’d never had to hide how I felt about the godwitches. That was what often got me in trouble—my smart mouth, my stubbornness. I couldn’t imagine having to pretend I was one of them, even if it meant bringing them down. I stared at Lor, his dark hair hanging as his head drooped.

I’d once asked him what he knew of sacrifice, and now I understood what an unfair thing that was to think about him.