42. Chapter 42
Chapter 42
A strangled sound came from her throat. “You bastard.”
He sighed. “The first binding—the one where you pledged loyalty to me and our kingdom—means I can make you do anything I bloody want.”
“You know,” she grated out in a whisper, “this seems like a great time to mention I’m about to be implicated in the murder of the Niflheim-bred merchant in our town, and since you’re obligated to fulfill our binding and keep me alive, I don’t mind admitting every word of it is true. Do you know what was left of him? Nothing. My shadows completely obliterated him. So, trust me; I am not an elf you want to be ordering around like this. Unless you want me to unleash them again on you when this binding is complete.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice as they kept walking. “I’m not afraid of your magic anymore.”
“Ah, but you admit it did scare you before we agreed to this binding.” Smugness imbibed Imani’s voice.
He shot her a flat look. “Call it more of a morbid curiosity.” His mouth brushed over her ear. “And I’ve known about your crime for months, my little murderess.”
Imani jerked her head back in surprise. “What do you mean? With what proof? How could you have anything the Crown would legitimately consider?”
The nymph witch trailed behind them, an unreadable expression as she observed them.
Ignoring Imani’s anger, Kiran continued pulling her toward the balcony around the inner atrium. They stopped, and he glanced at her arrogantly. “You’re right. The queen would never give me an audience for any conversation whatsoever. But rumor is the evidence the queen and your precious heir will hear from your sister tomorrow will be extremely compelling.”
Imani’s stomach turned over, and she honestly thought she might pass out. “What are you talking about? What is my sister doing here?”
“Meira decided she couldn’t take your lies anymore. She arrived yesterday and told them how you likely attacked the merchant after your grandmother’s burning, how you came back smelling of smoke and covered in ash, how you lost your cloak—the exact one they found near the remains. Oh, and she also told them how you’ve been lying to the Order and the Crown, hiding your true magic and identity.”
Imani pressed her hand to her fluttering chest to calm her racing heart. Her mind careened out of control with possibilities. She didn’t believe Meira would do this to her. Not her sister. No.
Imani could barely get the words out. “How did you force her to say those things? What did you do to her?” Her voice cracked, and she fought tears again for what felt like the millionth time tonight.
“ Me ?” He touched his chest in mock offense. “See for yourself.” He led her to the railing and made her look down at the people milling about below.
She froze. She couldn’t move, could barely think.
Indeed, both Meira and Dak were below. Meira spoke to two witches from the Order and didn’t appear under duress. Dak waited patiently, sitting nearby, sketching.
Imani’s chest cracked open. Deep down, she knew Kiran spoke truth.
Imani wished she could crawl out of her skin. She wanted to scream, claw her heart out, and throw it at her sister.
Kiran tsked. “They do appear to be more high naiad than you, but I think you’ll find them easily in the crowd?—”
The prince cut himself off as Meira came up the stairs with one of the master witches.
Kiran let her out of his grip so abruptly that Imani almost tripped, stumbling toward her sister.
She stared at Meira floating up the stairs, hardly breathing, hardly seeing. Meira’s severe gaze stopped her in her tracks.
Imani’s heart raced, and tears gathered in her eyes.
The master witch blinked in surprise but politely stepped back to provide them privacy.
Meira glided toward her, displaying far more poise and calm than Imani was capable of right now. Her blank expression never wavered. Imani couldn’t read it. She barely recognized this spiteful, icy witch in front of her.
How long had Meira been pretending? When had she changed?
It didn’t matter. She had changed, and it broke Imani’s already horribly ruined heart to see the bare truth now.
“Why did you do this?” Imani rasped as fat, stray tears fell down her cheeks and lips.
Meira’s big blue eyes filled with tears, too, but her lip snarled in frustration when she spoke. “You betrayed me first, and once I learned the truth, I was sick of living life with your selfishness and lies. Because instead of keeping your head down for us and focusing on getting home, you’ve been searching for that fucking wand and acting recklessly in pursuit of a myth. For yourself.” She paused. “But you go after what you want, and so do I,” Meira said, her voice dropping low.
Meira had never spoken this way, but despite the strange coldness in her demeanor, Imani understood perfectly. She knew her sister, and Meira wanted only a simple life with her own children. She had always tried to bring them together as a family.
Besides, there was truth in those words. Imani had lied to her sister about the murder and many other things. The choices she’d made had taken her away from her siblings and closer to the wand. Those lies and Imani’s entire existence threatened Meira’s dream, as had Ara’s execution.
But Imani had made mistakes before, and they always forgave each other.
Not this time, it seemed.
Once Meira had learned what Imani had done, she’d probably sought to sever herself from those black spots, making it clear what side she was on—her own. She’d have to stay here and take the ascension assessments, but afterward, if she survived, she’d be an unmated female, alone with one younger sibling almost grown up. Without Ara or Imani, she’d be able to return to the Draswood with Dak. She’d be able to find a mate. Maybe even her heartmate.
It all made sense now.
“Did you tell them the truth about my identity then?”
“I did. They know it all. I refuse to lie for you anymore.”
Her heart ached fiercely. The fact was more fuel for the queen to put on Imani’s impending pyre.
“You will regret this someday,” Imani snarled.
“Will I? How does it feel to know you’re truly alone now?” Tears now fell freely down Meira’s cheeks, as if the insults hurt her more than Imani. Meira could always be the hero and the victim, and how well her sweet sister played her role.
The words—same as Ara’s—gutted Imani, and she stepped back a few paces, carefully keeping her glare locked on her sister. “I love you more than anyone, but you would have sent me to my execution with no mercy. So, while I might be truly alone , I’m going to console myself by burying you alive and dancing on your grave,” Imani stated, her voice and fists firm.
Meira flinched, a flicker of fear passing in her eyes. It soothed Imani’s pain somewhat.
Turning on her heel, Imani returned to the prince’s side and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Kiran stared back with evil triumph shining in his eyes, and the smile that formed on his lips was pure mania.
Crazed, self-deprecating laughter burned in her throat, but it faded as her mind traveled further, realizing how deep this deception went. Kiran had known Ara. He had known Malis. He’d known of Imani before even coming here. How long had this plan of his been in motion?
And then it hit her.
She brought her hand to her mouth to keep from screaming.
The Serpent Prince had planned this weeks ago, when she’d stood on the balcony as a High-Norn elf. The only one here at the palace. His attention had been on her initially because he’d been suspicious about her identity. While Imani had been pretending to be Meira here, Kiran had known the truth, and all he’d needed was proof, which he had gotten, to create a situation where she’d have no choice but to go to him and bargain for her life.
Which she had.
He could get anyone to agree to anything with the correct information—leverage. He didn’t need just someone to bind to him; he needed a female High-Norn elf for the binding, and he’d found one.
And he had also needed Meira to help.
“The queen would never let you roam the kingdom freely. How did you leave the castle to visit Meira? How did you convince my own sister to betray me? How did you know I killed Malis?” Imani whispered.
“I knew someone had killed him when he never returned from Essenheim, so before I came here, I went to investigate. I can roam more freely than you think. And I found remnants of books, notes, and maps. He left all his work, unfinished—why? The Malis I knew would have only done that if he were dead. The Crown must have done their own investigation, and once they found Malis’s bones, or what was left of them, they started searching for a murderer, not a missing merchant.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “You should have cleaned those up, my darling. Your magic doesn’t destroy quite everything. It could have been anyone else, but you left your cloak—another mistake, I’m afraid.”
“But how does it prove I killed him?” she asked.
“Your sweet sister confirmed it was yours. She also confirmed you were suspiciously late and covered in blood and soot when no one else who attended the execution had been.”
“It doesn’t mean I killed him.”
“It doesn’t matter to the queen—or me, frankly. It’s enough to say you did.”
So, while he wasn’t the one who had brought her lies to light in front of the queen and Tanyl, Imani was sure he’d offered Meira exactly what she wanted—the heartmate spell she herself had cast. By dangling her heartmate and the freedom she’d always wanted to return to the Draswood in front of her, he’d set the wheels in motion for her to do it—to have her own family.
He had probably even found a way for Aiden to break the only rule in the assessment.
In all her overconfidence, Imani had naively convinced herself that she had figured him out and understood how he thought more than others. But he had backed her into a corner from all angles, and it dawned on her that she didn’t honestly know the prince.
Imani paused to see if, by chance, he’d take it all back—admit she was wrong, say she had made a mistake, to explain how he hadn’t been lying to her from the moment they’d met. But his gleeful expression told Imani beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was right about everything.
“You can lie to the rest of them, my darling”—he sighed—“but I collect secrets better than anyone you’ll ever know.”
Hearing the truth in those words terrified her.
“You shouldn’t trust anyone but yourself, Imani.” Kiran shoved her forward, but she could barely sense her surroundings. Every step reminded her she was prey caught in the jaws of a viper.
She thought she’d been keeping up all this time, making her own choices. She thought she was clever by trusting only a small circle of people. But she’d been following every course Kiran had set before her. Everything leading up to this moment had been a trap he’d set up, one she had walked right into.
Imani stole a look at him over her shoulder. And his infuriating smile told her all she needed to know. The man was good at getting what he wanted. He was beyond good. It was breathtaking.
People had tried to warn her. Esa and Tanyl had both emphasized how Kiran was more dangerous than people realized. But, unfortunately, even among the false rumors, some were true. And Imani hadn’t listened.
Like Malis and Esa, she had been an easily tricked fool. Her overconfidence, not to mention how many people she’d been trying to please, like Tanyl and her sister, had made her sloppy. It was a wonder Imani still drew breath. Her stupidity should have killed her ten times over already.
Hysteria built, and she couldn’t breathe enough air into her lungs. Whispers raged around her as she lost the last shreds of her sanity. Indeed, she barely noticed as Kiran deposited her inside his bedroom.
“Who am I feeding from then?” Her voice shook.
“Why does it matter? You have so much experience that I’m sure you’ll be fine whoever it is.”
His countenance was half-arrogance, half-smugness, and she knew it would be him.
“You want us to feed from each other still?” Despite his betrayal, the thought didn’t disgust her as much as she wanted it to. It had been divine when they’d fed earlier, and she wanted to do it again. A darkness inside him called to hers, even though she wished it didn’t.
Her eyes found Kiran’s again. The heat in his gaze nearly burned her.
“It seals the binding deeper. We shouldn’t have started earlier without someone to supervise. As I said before, I’m not sleeping with you. But it must be me, or the binding won’t work.”
“You sure were interested earlier,” Imani shot back.
“It was the binding magic and your fucking soul draw. Do you think I want this? Do you really think any of us—me, Tanyl, my brother—actually harbor any emotions for you? Tanyl might think he loves you, but trust me when I say you’re nothing more than a tempting honey pot, trapping people—end of story.”
“I get it.” She ground her teeth together. Would anyone ever truly be able to love her with this soul draw? Malis was dead, and everyone else was simply under her spell.
“And as I said before, I’m sure as shit not sleeping with some whore Tanyl touched. You have what you need. I have what I need. Which is why we will have an audience so this doesn’t get out of hand.”
At that, Master Heirwyn breezed in, all light, beauty, and power.
Kiran grabbed Imani roughly and nipped his teeth against the delicate flesh of her throat before whispering, “I told you this night would be more humiliating for you.”