31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
K iran clicked his tongue. “I see you let anyone barge into your rooms, Tanyl.”
A chair scraped on the floor. Tanyl would find her soon.
Kiran remained seated, apparently not in any hurry to discover her.
With a loud sigh, she lifted the veil of her glamour. After another pause, forcing them to wait, she sailed into the doorway’s light.
Imani eyed Tanyl with arrogance and surveyed the room, praying she could pull off the lie she had just arrived.
Tanyl leveled her with an off-putting glare. “Why are you so late?”
Her mouth thinned. He was taking his bad mood out on her.
“Where are the guards? What about the wards Kiran placed over the door? You can’t simply walk in here,” Tanyl said with an air of frustration. “Go wait in the other room for me.”
Imani shrugged, hiding her irritation at his tone. Instead of obeying, however, she did a slow perusal around the room. “Don’t want anyone to see us together?”
Tanyl’s expression softened. “I don’t mind if people see us together … not anymore.”
She pursed her lips at the heir apparent. What had changed? What kind of game was Tanyl playing with her?
“So sorry to interrupt your princeling party,” she said as she tried to meander to the desk to peek at what Kiran had found earlier.
As if he didn’t want her near the papers, Kiran chose to stand then. Like a shifter hunting prey, he closed the distance between them with rapid steps.
Imani angled away, trying to relax, but the predatory elf rounded on her, making it impossible.
His snaking signature invaded her senses, bringing heat to her cheeks. While the malice he exuded should have made her blood run cold, all her cells cried out internally to have him as close as possible. Pushing, whining, and begging, her magic was so furious she resisted his draw.
A familiar shudder went down her spine. But it didn’t feel like normal hunger. Instead, it was something else entirely. Something primal .
Wilting inward, giving in, Imani didn’t have the energy to care how his magic controlled her. In fact, she liked the sensation so much she couldn’t stop herself from leaning closer and letting her own soul draw out to play. She couldn’t deny there was an attraction between them—an allure.
Looming overhead, Kiran forced Imani’s chin up. Her magic stirred along her skin with his gaze on her. His eyes twinkled as he peered down. She’d delighted him with the display of power.
Kiran stared back at her with those mismatched eyes that she found less and less terrifying. A certain beauty lingered in them. One eye shone pure black, as usual, but the other pupil dilated hugely. She got lost in its bright and mossy green depths for a few seconds. What would Kiran be like with two such eyes?
Unable to blink, Imani was held captive by his gaze. Like how other elves were caught in her soul draw, he was utterly, horribly mesmerizing, and while Imani didn’t know if she wanted to kiss or punch his perfect-looking mouth most days, she could admit she found him beyond intriguing.
These were dangerous inclinations. She tried to push them away with Tanyl in the room.
“My, what an enchanting creature you are without all the glamour,” Kiran purred, pretending he hadn’t already seen her without it. He turned to Tanyl. “You lied to me about her, Your Highness. So territorial.” He raised his hand to Imani’s face. “But I can see why. This is the reason you didn’t want me feeding from her—you have her for yourself already.”
“Back away from her, Kiran.” Tanyl slammed his fist on the table again.
Kiran ignored him and continued staring down at her. He tilted his head as he studied her. A too-long stretch of silence passed.
“‘Don’t want anyone to see us together?’” he repeated her words with a low sneer only she could hear. “And people say I’m manipulative.”
She hummed something that was almost a laugh then bit her lip instead.
The prince of the Niflheim Kingdom trailed his fingers across Imani’s neck and the scar on her collarbone, a possessive touch, making her practically lightheaded. A copper taste flooded her mouth as she bit her cheek to remain still and unflinching.
She didn’t know what to think about it. Part of her loved it, but the other part wanted to swat his hand away and demand he stop toying with her. Kiran made her feel out of her skin—insane, like him.
As if reading her mind, Kiran merely grinned pure menace, pure madness. He said nothing, but his fingers still moved idly.
“I said stop touching her,” Tanyl demanded, practically shouting. Yet he made no move to shove Kiran away.
“Why should I? I hear she’s nowhere near exclusive, Tanyl,” he drawled, abruptly dropping his hand. “You might be an idiot in politics, but females, too? Anyone who thinks you’re next in line to be king is out of their mind.”
Hearing the lies he spun, Imani’s blood heated. Before she could lunge at Kiran, Tanyl’s words caused her to halt.
“You wouldn’t know anything about being an heir, Kiran. You’re pathetic.”
Kiran rolled his eyes at the dig. “Oh, there’s an insult I hear twice weekly. When did you become so desperate, Tanyl? It’s disgraceful, to say the least, especially for someone who thinks they will be king.”
“I know more than a snake like you.” Tanyl’s lip curled in distaste.
“At least I accept what and who I am. Can you say the same about yourself?”
Hearing the sharp bite in Kiran’s voice, her magic fluttered inside.
“Leave. Now.” Tanyl’s jaw clenched so hard Imani thought it might break. But despite the magic coming off Kiran, the elf prince’s insolence in Tanyl’s own home, and how Kiran had touched her, the heir still didn’t move to attack. Instead, a stark unease entered his eyes, gaze shifting rapidly between the pair of elves standing in front of him.
“And here I thought you were such a good host that you might want to invite me to stay,” Kiran taunted before throwing a lazy wink Imani’s way. “I hear your gorgeous little Norn elf is open to entertaining audiences during sex.” He was obviously referring to her recent meeting with Saevel.
Arsehole .
“Get out of here.” Tanyl raised his wand, but the emptiness of the threat lingered.
Kiran turned toward the other prince. His face was the picture of indifference, blatantly daring Tanyl to proceed with his threat. “Or what ?”
It dawned on Imani that Tanyl couldn’t attack Kiran. It might be construed as an act of war.
Imani’s patience broke. Leaning up, she pressed her wand into Kiran’s throat. “Or he’ll let me wipe the ugly grin off your face,” she whispered with a snarl against his ear.
Kiran might be a twelve-mark, but her confidence in magic use had improved, and she wouldn’t let him terrorize Tanyl like this any longer.
A warm, calloused hand slipped into hers. Kiran’s thumb traced a possessive circle across her skin. “The little elf has you wrapped around these tiny fingers, doesn’t she, Tanyl?”
She tried to rip her hand away, and he chuckled.
“She’s delightful. I can see why you want this perfect creature for yourself.”
“I am not a belonging either of you can own.” Imani snatched her hand back and pressed the wand harder into his flesh.
“Such a disobedient, wild thing to threaten a visiting royal. Not to mention Meira simply barging in here uninvited.”
His emphasis on “Meira” served to simply hold more over her head.
“I was invited, you bastard,” Imani shot back.
“I am the product of royalty, thank you very much,” he huffed in mock insult, his amusement still written across his features.
“A fact I’m sure you need to remind people of regularly,” she said coolly.
Tanyl pointed to the door. “You told me what you wanted, and I agreed. Right now, you have nothing else I want except for you to leave. I’m sure you have some more bidding to do for your brute of a brother.”
Kiran merely laughed again. “As usual, this was an utter pleasure. But you’re right; my brother’s bidding isn’t going to finish itself,” he said cheerfully before strolling toward the hallway.
With his hand on the door, he halted. After a thought, he made his way to stand over her again. Imani took in a sharp breath.
He inclined his head to study her, an expression chilling in its insanity. A low growl came from his chest—more animal than man—and he roughly grabbed her face. Holding firm, he rubbed his thumbs in small circles across the soft skin of her cheek. It raised the hairs on her arms.
Unable to move, she froze as the knot in her chest tightened under such scrutiny. Kiran’s magic skimmed her skin in a seductive caress of power, filling her head and chest and slithering down her belly and back. A shiver of desire ran down her back and pooled in her core.
This male witch had an arsenal of magic she didn’t understand. Power rolled off Kiran, compelling her as only an elf could. It murmured constantly.
Finding a sliver of composure, she grabbed his shirt in frustration. “Whatever game you’re playing with me needs to stop,” she hissed.
A secretive smile spread across his face, reminding her how he still owned her, and with a gentleness at odds with his nature, Kiran brushed a few hairs off her forehead.
Then Kiran turned to Tanyl, his hand lightly resting on her cheek. “I guess I do have something you want quite badly, Your Highness.”
“Leave!” Tanyl roared again, still unwilling to attack the prince, despite the threat.
“You know, you’re lucky I even let you see her like this—in her true form—without breaking your bloody neck.”
“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Imani whispered up at Kiran, still fisting his shirt.
Leaning closer, he lifted another stray lock of hair from her shoulder and rubbed it gently between his fingers. “I won’t, my darling. At least, not tonight,” he whispered.
The low purr of his voice made it impossible for Imani even to consider replying to such a statement. Instead, she merely stared at Kiran like he’d lost his damn mind. She was losing her mind around, as if she were turning into him.
For a moment, a breath, they stood alone in an inescapable net of familiarity, loathing, and curiosity.
Tanyl’s voice broke through their private space, invading it. “Step away from her.”
Kiran’s hand on her face tightened, eyes still locked onto hers. “Enjoy your final days with my perfect elf, Tanyl.” His tone was no longer the casual, darkly amused one she had expected from him. It was deadly serious. “Soon, you won’t be allowed anywhere near her.”
“My final days with Meira? You could never deserve her in a million years. Run along, Snake,” Tanyl said.
Kiran pulled away from her and clapped once. “That’s the most honest thing you’ve said all night!” The elf prince silenced himself and let the total weight of his disconcerting gaze land on Tanyl. “But the fact remains. We are leaving this kingdom soon, and afterward, I will never share her with anyone ever again.”
Imani wanted to tell Kiran she belonged to no one but couldn’t. His words were valid. She would belong to him. If she didn’t die attempting his assessments, she’d work for the Niflheim Kingdom … and Kiran.
“Enough of this. Step away from her and leave,” Tanyl commanded, his voice laced with the promise of violence. “The day I rip your throat out can’t come soon enough.”
The room plummeted to freezing, and Kiran’s mask dropped. His face twisted into something more beast than man, and his mismatched eyes appeared even more insane—wilder.
“The day I die will be because I decided it, and when that happens, it certainly won’t be you who does the honors,” he said, deep and all-consuming—the voice of royalty.
Images of his death assaulted her, and his words made her blink in surprise. Did he already know the truth?
But Kiran’s irreverent expression returned as he shoved the unhinged force deep inside him. The room thawed, and he sauntered out as if nothing had happened.
Still shivering from the pressure drop, Imani rushed to Tanyl and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything,” he murmured into her hair. “I can’t touch him without risking a confrontation.”
“I know,” she whispered back.
Tanyl held her shoulders and bent down. “Do you understand why they call him the Mad Prince?”
“Oh, I understand,” she said, laughing darkly, still lightheaded from the volatile storm of emotions stirred up by Prince Kiran.
Kiran had lost his mind. Imani had lost hers, as well.