26. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
T wo days later, she broke into the Niflheim princes’ rooms again for their first meeting.
Despite the thicker magic coming off it and a nasty heat signature warning people away, at her command, it rushed around her like a broken dam, stripping away the glamour over her appearance. But again, not the flesh magic.
She smiled to herself as she stepped over the threshold in her mostly true form.
A man’s voice drifted down the hall. “She gave us everything. All the proof, ready to go.”
As she approached, the orange glow from the fire lit the room up, including the three men standing together near it. The sight made her freeze.
A million scenarios for why the sons of the high sentinel of the naiads were here ran through her mind, and none were good.
“If you bring this evidence to the queen, she’ll have to take it seriously,” the other said.
“The magic was—” the first man cut himself off, staring at Imani. He glanced at her and back to the prince. A slow, wicked smile spread across his nymph face. “Well, well, well, Lady Aowyn.”
Her grandmother had met with the men’s father on a few occasions years ago—all business—and on more significant transactions, she and Riona had always accompanied. So, while they’d seen her years before with her glamour on, he still recognized her.
Imani stood firm, unflinching despite the weight of their heavy stares on her unglamoured form.
“What a nice surprise, Imani,” Kiran deadpanned in a tone suggesting the opposite before he turned to the brothers. “I wasn’t aware either of you personally knew Lady Aowyn.” The prince’s face remained impassive, but a muscle in his jaw tightened. She shouldn’t have let herself inside his rooms.
In no way did Imani personally know the sons of the high sentinel of the naiads, but she kept her mouth closed in a thin line.
“I wasn’t aware you did, either, Kiran,” Selwyn said smugly. “My, she’s certainly more grown up than she was all those years ago.” He lowered his eyes to her breasts with heat banking in his electric-blue gaze. “I always thought you’d be pretty; never this pretty.” He tsked. “Except for the horrible scarring. It’s hideous.”
Her lips parted, breathing short and shallow. Still, she stayed silent.
The younger brother, Maelon, leaned against the wall and studied her curiously. She suspected her magic had taken hold of him already and chastised herself again for her carelessness and arrogance in barging in here.
He shook his head, stepping closer to Imani. “Hmm, indeed. It’s a shame the prince here is planning to kill off?—”
He didn’t get to finish because Kiran slammed his fist into the second man’s face. A sound like crunching bones and a muffled groan echoed. The body fell onto the floor.
Kiran stared for a moment at what used to be the high sentinel’s oldest son. His boot slammed into his head, knocking away his wand and forcing the man onto his back.
Selwyn opened his mouth to protest, but the prince didn’t let him, grabbing him by the hair and smashing his head against the marble above the hearth.
“What part about not talking about anything did you not understand? Let”—he smashed his head—“me”—another smash—“remind you!” Kiran yelled, hammering the man’s head against the fireplace mantel. Stone crumbled onto the floor, mixing with the blood.
Yet, Kiran didn’t stop.
“You don’t talk about my business to anyone.” Smash. “You don’t mention me—ever.” Smash. “And you sure as shit don’t call me anything but Your Highness .”
Crush. Slam. Smash. The prince didn’t hold back, and she cringed each time.
Imani exhaled when he finally released Selwyn’s head, now covered in blood and flesh. Utterly destroyed.
No emotions showed on Kiran’s face as he let the body fall to the ground. He had likely died after the first two hits into the wall, but the prince had wanted this nymph’s head to come off his neck.
Rolling his shoulders, Kiran paced. With a choked laugh, he tugged on his hair with both hands like he was working on composing himself. His muscles tensed with his unhinged gaze dragging over the room. His chest was heaving, covered in blood splotches, scrubbing his hands down his face, looking both devastating and positively insane.
Actually, without a doubt, the man was positively insane. It didn’t take a master witch to see that.
She fought a crazed urge to close the distance between them—a sick, despicable notion. But he intrigued her to no end.
Brushing his hair off his forehead and wiping blood off his face, Kiran stared at the bodies around him.
Another fool stepped into the room. The unknown nymph instantly stilled, his mouth dropping open at the gore.
Kiran rolled his eyes. “Are all naiads this stupid?” he asked no one in particular, reaching for his wand as the nymph tried to turn and run. Kiran sliced off his legs with one swipe, and the nymph fell.
The prince strolled over and cocked his head to the side at his sobs and screams. Kiran laughed again and winked at him. “I did warn you not to make this deal with me if you couldn’t keep your mouths shut.”
Kiran blasted a hole through the man’s face with his magic, and again, blood splattered onto his cheek. He groaned in irritation once more at the mess before turning to Imani.
She’d seen scenes like this before. It didn’t happen often, but violence was unavoidable if you sold magic. However, her current situation with the princes was far more dangerous than she wanted to admit. It made her afraid. Not because she was afraid to die at their hands—she wasn’t scared to die—but because of the sheer power their kingdom was up against.
The fact Kiran had made a deal with the sons of a high sentinel then murdered them seemingly on a whim in his room in Essenheim’s palace told her how little the Crown threatened them and how deep the Niflheim Kingdom had infiltrated.
Two choices were laid out in front of Imani now: tell Tanyl and expose herself or keep quiet and let the Niflheim Kingdom continue tightening the noose around their neck. Neither of which sat well with her.
Ripping off his bloodstained shirt, the elf prince continued ignoring her, even while she crept closer and openly studied the multitude of binding markings and scars over his entire body. They surprised and mildly shocked her. It was difficult to predict how and where a binding brand would show up, and unless the spells were permanent, they’d disappear if they weakened, the caster died, or the terms were fulfilled. But he was absolutely covered .
Over the years, Imani had seen all kinds of low breeds working for the large covens, and most had bodies like Kiran’s. Witches who sold magic collected scars and binding brands all over their bodies the longer they were in business. Saints, even her own body had more binding brands and scars than most high-bred females, but he was a prince .
“Still breaking into our rooms, I see.” His voice shattered the strange silence between them.
The warning slithered over her. A logical response would have been to stay still, give Kiran the information he wanted, and try to get out of there quickly. She could hold this over his head, threatening to tell Tanyl what had happened.
With a pause, she took in the bodies of the high naiad males—the high sentinel’s sons.
It was then Imani understood threats would get her nowhere regarding Kiran. If someone was in his way, he simply killed them. Outside of the monarchs and his brothers, there weren’t many people Kiran couldn’t cut down.
To survive around people like him, a person always needed to ensure they were more valuable alive than dead. She needed to find something he desired badly enough to hold absolute power over someone like Kiran. And she wouldn’t be able to do it if she left and told Tanyl about what had happened.
Without a thought, she drew herself up to her full height, as insubstantial as it was, and let her magic signature surround her before sauntering to stand before him.
Those mismatched eyes stared down at her intensely, sending shivers through her spine. Despite his madness, despite what he’d done, she wanted him to come down from whatever insane precipice his mind was on.
Her hands lifted to run up and down his arms of their own accord to calm him. “Who are you planning to kill, Your Highness?”
His expression flickered to one of curiosity. “Maybe you for breaking into my rooms. I’ve killed people for less.”
“You’re not going to kill me. Not when I came here to share what I’ve learned this week.” She tilted her head to see his reaction. “Besides, you have your hands full with the rest of these bodies. What will Tanyl say when he learns what you’ve done?” she tsked.
Madness still shone in his gaze as he slid his eyes shut for a moment. His body relaxed under her palms.
Warmth spread through her at his soft inhale as she touched his chest. It felt right and so natural, even while none of this seemed natural.
He made that sound again—the rolling rumble—and her entire body shuddered.
Such power she held at this moment. It was an effort to prevent her hands from roaming further to coax more sounds like those from Kiran.
He stood incredibly still as he stared down at her, like a predator who had sighted its prey and was about to pounce. Her heart hammered while he traced his fingers down the column of her neck, his voice lowering. “All three of those witches were participating in the assessments,” he rasped. “Once I dispose of the bodies, it’s my word against yours about what exactly happened. So don’t even think about telling anyone about this little transgression.”
Kiran controlled all the Essenheim witches participating in his assessments. He would say they died while taking the assessments, and no one would question it, especially since there would be no bodies left to examine.
Before she could say anything else, he placed his hand over hers, stopping it. “I might still kill you. I’m a savage, remember? Anything’s possible when I sense a threat.” He dropped her hands and picked up a lock of her hair, wrapping it around his finger as if he couldn’t stop touching her. “I always knew I’d have to kill those nymphs—they all have big mouths. Am I going to have to kill you, too? Are you going to go blabbing what you saw here today?”
Pressure clamped down on her chest. She couldn’t move but finally managed to shake her head.
He smiled and let her hair loose from his finger before tucking it behind her ear.
“I should cut all my hair off and give it to you since you’re so interested in it,” she said, her voice more breathless than she’d intended.
An emotion too brief to name passed over Kiran’s face. “I’m interested in every part of you, Imani.”
Her name on his lips made her tense. The strange sense of recognition settled in her bones again, horror and delight all at once.
With a sobered expression, he pulled back. “But no, I won’t kill you tonight.” He turned in a silent directive for her to follow.
Trailing Kiran into the next room, Imani discovered Saevel and two female nymph witches waiting for them—naiads, by the look of them. One was an older, gorgeous female who twisted a wand in her hand. Another was younger, also pretty, lounging half-naked on a chair.
The fire cracked awkwardly when no one spoke.
Imani narrowed her eyes at the women, not at all amused about the situation.
Saevel lazily unbuttoned his pants in greeting.
Across the room, Kiran’s face was unreadable, his disconcerting eyes glinting under half-closed lids. For once, the ever-present cocky smile was gone. Instead, he kept watching her.
She lifted her chin, refusing to hide from him, but she felt exposed, like he was peeking into her mind. What was he thinking?
The nymph witch with the wand sauntered over to Kiran and whispered in his ear. He gave the witch a grim smile and nodded.
Kiran abruptly turned to his brother before she could assess their relationship. “I have a situation to take care of.” Then they both left.
Blinking a few times, not knowing how to respond, Imani stood there like an idiot as he walked away. Who in the saints was the witch whose counsel Kiran heeded? The brothers had brought a dozen of their own master witches as advisers, so it was possible she was one of them. Such an enigmatic relationship intrigued her, but she couldn’t worry about it now.
Imani motioned to the whore. “What is this? I have a report to give you.”
“And you will. I’m busy, and you’ll find I multitask extremely well.”
She was about to watch Saevel have sex with a whore, a blatant display of power meant to irritate her soul draw, meant to control her, meant to demean and mock her. Fury burned her chest.