Page 28 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

CHAPTER9

RONAN

“Saved me. Gave me a home, a purpose, a future. That man is the only reason I am standing here now.”

Lies. All of it.

It had to be.

There was no universe whereKieranwas the fucking hero of any story but his own. It had been nearly five years since he’d heard the other man speak, so he couldn’t trust his memories of his voice, but he’d recognize that face anywhere. It was definitely him. He must have brainwashed her somehow. Convinced her the lies were fact. It was the only explanation for this travesty unfolding in front of him.

“How did you even escape?” he asked, his eyes boring into the other man’s. He had to find a way to get word to Helena. She needed to know her prisoner was missing.

Reyna pressed her dagger in deeper, a trickle of blood gliding down his throat. “Watch your tone.”

Kieran raised a brow and gave him a considering look. “Is it safe for you to wander these streets alone, friend? You seem confused, dare I say lost. Is there someone we can send for? Someone to see you safely home?”

Ronan bared his teeth, swallowing back every insult that begged to be unleashed. He may be hotheaded, but he recognized when he was outnumbered. Between her weapon, the guards standing en masse behind their High Lord, and the crowd waiting to see what he’d do next, there was no way to proceed but to retreat and reassess.

It took everything in him not to grab Reyna, toss her over his shoulder, and bolt. She may go by a different name and have done something to her hair, but there was no doubt in his mind it was her. He’d risk a few nicks of her blade to get her far away from the spineless serpent she’d bound herself to.

“My mistake,” he gritted out. “You look exactly like someone I used to know.”

“A handsome one, from the sounds of it.”

“No. A criminal imprisoned for treason.”

Kieran tilted his head, and those familiar green eyes crackled with an energy so potent it had the hair on the back of Ronan’s neck standing on end. “Pity. Come, Shadow. There’s much to do before tomorrow’s ceremony.”

“Donotfollow us,” she hissed, kissing his neck with the blade a final time before pulling back and spinning away.

He watched them disappear down the street, the onlookers filling the now empty space where they’d just been and creating a barricade of sorts between Ronan and the woman he’d spent years searching for.

“This isn’t over,” he growled beneath his breath. Now that he had proof that she was here, that she wasalive,there wasn’t a force on this earth that would stop him from bringing her home. Given enough time, he was certain he could help her remember who she was, what they’d been to each other.

Don’t get ahead of yourself.The voice of reason was immediately hushed.

He knew all too well that they’d never made promises to one another. Never had the chance to explore what existed between them. That didn’t diminish the truth of it. He just needed to help her see it. That was going to require two things he didn’t currently have. Time and proximity.

“Who’s next?”

Ronan’s head snapped around, spotting the scribe collecting signatures for the contest.

“Me.”

The word left his lips before a plan could fully form in his mind. He knew next to nothing about the details surrounding the competition, but the one thing he did know was that Shadow was participating. As a fellow contestant, he’d have nearly unrestricted access to her.

The part where one of them had to die was an undeniable hiccup, but they’d deal with that when the time came. Nothing said they both had to see this farce through; the contest was simply his means to an end. The sooner he could help her remember who she was, the sooner they could both get the hell out of here. No death required.

Save perhaps Kieran’s—but that would be a bonus. Reyna was his priority.

Those who had been standing near enough to hear the altercation murmured excitedly as Ronan continued to entertain them with his unpredictable behavior. This time no one raised a brow when he stepped to the front of the line.

“You’re a big one,” the scribe said, craning his neck back to meet Ronan’s gaze.

He snatched the quill out of the man’s hand, quickly jotting his name below Shadow’s. The scribe twisted the page around, his eyes skimming Ronan’s signature.

“Butcher... I do not believe I’ve heard of you. Where are you from?”

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