Page 51 of This Prince Is Not Charming
Siobhan’s angry face flashed in my mind. “Someone does,” I said. “But they’re not in any hurry to get me back.”
He grabbed me by the shoulders and heaved me up. “I don’t have long. I’m going to have to return soon, otherwise people will get suspicious.”
“Okay” was all I said as he steered me toward a tree line in the distance.
“Godwitches, you’re so fucked right now. Do you know how long ago you drank all of this?”
“Nope.”
“Perfect,” he mumbled.
“Where are we going?” I asked, stumbling as Lor held me upright. My legs were beginning to feel a little more solid, more steady. “Hey, I think I can feel my toes.”
“We’ve got a long walk ahead of us,” Lor grumbled. “No more talking. You need to save your energy.”
* * *
My body felt like it had been beaten with a mallet. I blinked my eyes open and found the ground racing past, a whir of matted leaves, acorns, and branches. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched under thick leather boots.
I stiffened, realizing I had been thrown over someone’s shoulders. Someone was carrying me, and I had no idea where I was or how I’d gotten here. Flashes of Siobhan, the vial, a portal appeared in my mind.
Oh, godwitches. I’d gone through that portal last night and landed in a meadow in the middle of nowhere, and I must have fallen asleep at some point and gotten myself kidnapped.
I made a garbled noise and struggled against my kidnapper. “Let go of me!”
The person carrying me stopped suddenly. “You’re finally awake,” a familiar deep voice said. It reminded me of Wolfe’s voice, but it wasn’t as growly.
He bent over, and I tumbled off his shoulders and to the ground. I stared up at my older brother, the night coming back to me in bits and pieces. I couldn’t remember all of it, but what I did remember was Lor appearing.
“What—” I rubbed my head as he grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet.
“Let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time.”
He stomped ahead of me, and I struggled to swallow, my throat so dry. Godwitches, my head was pounding, and I was hallucinating again, wasn’t I? I’d seen him last night too. Fuck. I’d taken way too much of that heartstopper.
I stumbled after my older brother, and he didn’t say anything, just continued to walk through the dense forest as I attempted to keep up. “Are you real right now?”
“We don’t have time for that.” He ducked under a branch ahead of me, and that was answer enough. Of course he wasn’t real. None of this was real. But then, where was I really right now? Why was my mind coming up with this grand hallucination, and why did my entire body feel like I was wading through thick mud, every step a tremendous effort? “We need to get you back to Fairwitch Isle before anyone knows you’re missing,” Lor continued, using his sword to slash at random branches and bramble that blocked our path. “I’m guessing your people wouldn’t look too kindly upon their prince leaving their city to get high.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “What?”
Lor slowed and turned. He’d aged so much since I’d last seen him. His face wasn’t clean-shaven anymore but stubbled. A scar ran from his eye to his mouth. My mind was certainly detailed in its hallucinations—and it was also brutally honest.
“I’m not getting high. It’s just . . . it’s medicine. For my . . .” What exactly? Emotions? Was that a thing? I shook my head. Why was I arguing with myself?
Lor parted a thicket of branches and leaves, revealing a shimmering border. I recognized exactly where we were.
He’d brought me home. Or I’d brought myself home.
He gestured. “Go on. You need to get back.”
“When will I see you again?” I asked, even though I knew he wasn’t real.
“You won’t,” he said and jabbed a finger at me. “Stay out of trouble, Cillian. I won’t be there next time to rescue you.”
“You didn’t rescue me this time,” I said, staring at the shimmering border around Fairwitch Isle.
When I turned to say something else, Lor was no longer there. I should’ve felt angry, sad, disappointed. Something. Anything. But like all the other times I’d taken heartstopper, I didn’t feel anything at all.
