Page 94 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

Cillian’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t argue.

“I’ll stick around to train a replacement, but”—I gestured to my shelves of potions—“I’m ready to open my own apothecary shop in town.”

“Okay,” Cillian said simply.

Godwitches, why had I never done this before? Saying those words out loud, standing up for what I wanted, lifted a huge weight from my shoulders.

Cillian rubbed his temples, looking so impossibly tired.

“Are you all right?” I asked. “You’ve seemed on edge lately.”

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That’s a word for it. I’m just under a lot of stress trying to keep Fairwitch safe from all these looming threats.”

I studied him. “No, that’s not it. We’ve always been in danger, ever since you became high prince. But you haven’t ever been like this. You have eye bags, Cillian.”

He gasped and jabbed a finger at me. “Take that back.”

“Have you not looked in a mirror recently?”

Cillian loved looking at himself in any reflective surface he could find.

“I guess not,” he mumbled, shoving a hand through his dark waves. He swore softly. “There’s . . . something I’ve been keeping a secret,” he said. “But you can’t tell anyone.”

“Okay . . .” That sounded ominous.

He let out a huge sigh. “I sent scouts to search for Lor after we first landed in the bog. They’re mercenaries for hire, a group of them I found in a nearby town. I didn’t tell them who I was or why I needed to find this man. Just that I did. I paid them half the promised money and told them they’d get the other half if they could give me his location.”

“What?” I stiffened. “Are you serious? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, and honestly, I was afraid if I did say something, Wolfe would insist on being the one to go after him, and I didn’t want him doing that after he’d just found the love of his life.”

I nodded, understanding why Cillian might’ve kept it a secret.

“The mercenaries finally returned a few months ago, and they found him. And he gave them this.”

Cillian fished into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment, holding it out for me.

I took it with a shaking hand and opened it, reading what I immediately recognized as Lor’s handwriting. My heart clenched at the sight of the familiar loops and swirls after so long.

I’m sorry, but you need to forget about me. I am never returning home.

—L

“He knew,” Cillian said. “I didn’t tell those mercenaries any details about our family, our names. But Lor knew who sent them, and that’s what he sent back. A fucking note.” Cillian’s jaw locked. “He doesn’t want to come home. He wants to stay with the brotherhood. It’ll kill Wolfe if he finds out. It’ll kill Mother.”

I didn’t disagree. I handed the parchment back to Cillian, my heart feeling like it had been stomped on all over again. We all missed Lor so much and had spent many years mourning him. When Wolfe revealed he was alive, it had sparked some hope in us. Now it felt like I was grieving all over again.

“Maybe someone forced him to write that.”

Cillian shook his head, shoulders slumping. “I don’t think so, Nevan.”

I hadn’t been the only one keeping secrets, and I could see the toll this secret had taken on my younger brother. All my anger melted away. “I’m sorry you’ve been keeping this to yourself.”

A guilty look flashed in his ice blue eyes, and I raised my brows. “Or have you told someone?”

“Ceri knows,” he said. “I needed to tell someone, and I knew I could trust her.”

If I had a huge secret like that, I’d have told someone too.