44. Chapter 44
Chapter 44
T he sun’s rays pressed against Imani’s eyes for the last time in months—maybe years.
Rolling over, she stared listlessly at the ceiling, uncaring how her chest hurt from bruised ribs or the root binding … uncaring the queen’s guards could grab her at any minute. In fact, now that Imani was out of the safety of Prince Kiran’s rooms, Dialora would be on her way. Imani was wasting time, wanting to enjoy the sun a bit longer.
Any remaining shreds of responsibility toward her family deserted her. Now, the bits of her fringed sanity flew off into the distance, almost too small to be seen, and the darkness of insanity careened inexorably toward her in an attempt to splice her world permanently.
Feeding from Kiran had been the best part of her horrible night. His soul didn’t leave her wanting. It was quite beautiful, all things considered. And she must admit a small part of her was slightly disappointed they didn’t give in to their desires.
It was disgusting—he was a madman—but she wanted Kiran. Plain as day. At least she could admit the confusing truth to herself now, which had been building for a while. It felt good to get it all out in the open.
Defeated, her shoulders slumped as her head dropped into her hands. “God, how stupid could I be?” she whispered.
A loud banging on her door interrupted her thoughts.
“Open up, by order of the First Witch and Her Radiant Majesty the Queen.”
She padded to the door and pressed her ear to the wood. The men let out shouts and hisses of pain as they collapsed to the floor, presumably injured.
More yelling ensued, but Imani smiled.
No one was getting in here unless she or Kiran allowed it.
She’d been angry then, but now she couldn’t be more grateful for Kiran’s defensive magic around her rooms.
Still, the intrusion meant she had no more time to waste.
She whipped out her wand and started flinging her things around the room into a pile on the bed.
Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her mind as she scurried around the room—it always did in all her moments of failure—and a memory of Imani bleeding on the floor, wanting to give up, surfaced with stunning clarity.
“ Do you think this is over? Nothing is over until you’re dead, Imani—and even then, the saints will bargain with the willing. ”
Was Imani going to let one setback ruin her plans? Ruin her chances to find the Drasil? Was she so weak she couldn’t handle a few complications?
Her base nature roared to life inside her soul in a shocking rush. Deep inside, Imani had always known this day would come, and her biggest mistake had been believing her own lies. She’d been pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Her sister was right, and Ara had been right, too. She was alone—utterly alone. At six and twenty, she had no family and no freedom. But she would have a future, even if it killed her.
Outside her room, it was oddly silent. But the guards would be back soon, probably with the First Witch, if the wards needed to be stripped away by someone as powerful as Kiran.
Like a wild summer storm, she ran around the suite, gathering the last of her things and dumping them into the small trunk. Fury blackened her heart, but Imani forced herself to keep going.
A stark sadness struck her when she picked up a pile of the clothes her sister had made. After a moment of indecision, she folded them neatly and packed them away. Imani loved the dresses, even if she hated her sister. It would be a damn shame to waste them.
With a slam, she dropped the lid closed then engaged the locks. Imani whipped out her wand, casting a few illusions and protective enchantments before sending the trunk into the air and sweeping from the room with her own invisibility spell cast. Servants typically performed this task for her, but she couldn’t risk it falling into the wrong hands. Imani would take no chances when it came to the queen now that Dialora was indeed coming for her.
Oddly enough, no soldiers waited outside. She’d assumed there would be at least a few to subdue while they waited for the First Witch to arrive.
But a crowd had gathered over the atrium, whispering and watching something.
Perfect. She had gotten lucky but wasn’t going to question it.
Keeping a rapid pace, she made her way to the back stairs. On her way down, she consulted the paper left in her room and memorized the instructions for departing, including the coach she’d been assigned.
Outside, she took a deep, calming breath with the traveling company in sight. A quick glance to her left, however, made her do a double-take.
The two Niflheim princes stood surrounded by their royal guards. A few whispering words passed between Kiran and Saevel, the arrogance clear in their expressions. Was this what everyone was on about?
Kiran wore black, as usual. The early morning light glowed around the handsome elf prince like a halo. It reminded her that they both only had a few more days in the sun’s warmth.
She swept her eyes over him again, taking in the muscle twitching in his throat, the twist at the corners of his mouth, and the unruly waves of hair falling across his forehead. He pushed them back with one hand, unsheathed his sword with the other, then let himself smile maniacally.
Curiously, Kiran’s fearsome elven features were more on display today, too. What moments did he choose to lighten his illusion? It was subtle, she’d noticed it the second she’d discovered he was glamouring himself. The magic came on and off like clothing he slipped into when needed.
It would be one of the first things she tried to learn about him, along with the rest of his magical brands.
While she could appreciate the view, the appearance of Kiran’s beautiful face only served to cause her more anger. If anything, it was an intimidation tactic and nothing more, and she wouldn’t let him have such power over her anymore.
Before she could study him further, Kiran moved stealthily through the guards and simply … disappeared. No matter how hard she scoured the lines of horses and milling people, she could not find him again.
A moment or two later, she reached her coach and secured the trunk to the back. A commotion drew her gaze away, toward the palm-framed yard and boulevard leading to the main palace gates.
Mouth gaping, she took in Tanyl sparring with Kiran. This was what had all the courtiers pausing their days to stare.
Seeing Tanyl’s form was a practiced ferocity didn’t surprise her, but he was running on emotions, and the Niflheim prince was as cold as stone, and as equally trained. With a simple sword, the way Kiran moved, twisted, and leaped between the blows he delivered was, unfortunately, spectacular.
Imani was hard to impress when it came to combat without magic. It was true what Esa had said—powerful witches tended to be lazy fighters who wouldn’t stand a chance without their wands, and high-bred nobles fought with rules and honor that would make them an easy target for dirty fighters like Imani.
But, to her surprise, Kiran didn’t miss the opportunity to strike a fearsome but low blow into Tanyl’s side with his fist. Doubled over, Tanyl didn’t see Kiran move to trip him, either.
Tanyl stumbled, and Kiran slammed his boot into the other prince’s back with a snarl. The Essenheim prince fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt.
Prince Kiran Illithiana would do anything to win a fight, even getting his hands dirty, which shouldn’t have impressed her, but it did.
Tossing his sword at Tanyl on the ground, Kiran held up both his hands, as if to say, Well, is that it?
“Someday, Kiran”—Tanyl bared his teeth, his tone low and threatening—“I’m going to kill you.”
“You can try,” Kiran said, flicking his gaze toward Imani.
She froze.
“But until then, little Princeling, you can trust I’ll keep her safe and alive. Hmm … I can’t wait for the day I possess everything of yours.” He paused. “And don’t even think about trying to talk to one of my witches again. Don’t even look at them.”
Kiran’s gaze zeroed in on Imani with intensity, his magic tingling across her skin.
Imani swallowed, her pulse fluttering against her neck. How could he see her? Her trunk was already tied to the back of the coach. She was nonexistent.
Tanyl shouted something in response. Kiran threw his head back and laughed. When he stopped, amusement glinted in his strange eyes. Then he shrugged and sauntered away.
Cursing herself for getting distracted by him again, Imani grabbed the carriage door and thrust herself inside.
The second she was settled, the door opened. Startled, she snapped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes.
Tanyl slammed the door shut behind him and dropped onto the seat in front of her. He was one of the three people she desperately didn’t want to see right now.
When she regarded him, the innocent look he wore like a mask fell from his face, turning him from the picture of impish charm to something more intriguing altogether. Something darker.
Straightening her back, she forced a blank expression onto her own face. “Tanyl.”
“Imani,” he said evenly, piercing her with one of the coldest glares she’d ever received.
“What was the fight about?”
Tanyl’s face twisted in frustration. “I said I wanted to talk with you—only talk —and he goaded me, said I could if I could beat him. I couldn’t refuse. It’s another one of his games. It meant nothing, Imani, so forget about it.”
It meant something . Kiran didn’t do anything for nothing—he was making a point. But she didn’t argue.
“Hmm, how nice it is to hear you say my name,” she murmured, trying to hide her trepidation.
“I should kill you. My mother certainly wants your body tied to the stake. Despite what I told Kiran, she did send me to retrieve you for your crimes,” he said with disdain. Even through his chilly demeanor, a flicker of hurt passed Tanyl’s eyes as the words left his mouth.
Imani ignored it and waved her hand dismissively. “Please. He was a Niflheim loyalist, and besides, it was self-defense.”
“Seemed premeditated to the group listening to your sweet sister’s story.”
“Ah, yes, and what else did my sweet sister tell you?” Imani hissed.
“You’ll never be able to set foot in this kingdom as long as my mother is queen. Especially with what she fears is dark magic that you possess.”
While Imani had expected this outcome, it still cut to her core. To leave Essenheim willingly, searching for the wand, was one thing, but to be forced out and on the run from her beloved home was devastating.
“And when you’re king?” Imani rasped out after a full minute of silence.
“If you come back empty-handed, then yes, you’re a traitor to Essenheim, and you’ll be dealt with accordingly.”
Imani swallowed, reading the deeper meaning behind his words. While Tanyl was furious, he was more upset Imani had lied to him.
Her face softened. “We’ve always discussed how it’s more likely to be hidden here, but you know I’ll bring you the wand if I find it. I’m bound to our promise.”
“Indeed, thank the gods for that, since you’re such a pretty liar. But I’m talking about something else—information.”
Her stomach dropped, remembering their conversation from a few weeks ago. “Tanyl,” she whispered, “how do you expect me to get anything without getting caught and killed?”
“If you ever want to come home, then you’ll figure something out.”
“What information do you want specifically?”
“Anything you can learn about their magic and Kiran’s.” Tanyl’s cold eyes cut into hers with an intensity that made her cringe.
“How will I get this information to you?” Imani asked, picking at a string on her dress, growing increasingly furious by the second. “We will all be spied on, but Kiran knows about you and me. He’s going to keep a special eye on me, likely.”
“Not my problem,” he said, the picture of indifference. “Get creative. I don’t care. Use his attention on you to your advantage.”
She had half a mind to tell him Kiran was probably the only unmated male she couldn’t manipulate with sex, but she clenched her jaw and stayed quiet. Losing her temper would only reveal her vulnerability, and Kiran was a weakness she needed to keep silent.
“Fine,” she mumbled. “But it still doesn’t answer how we’ll communicate without getting me killed in the process?”
“The Illithianas use a fleet of low and common bird shifters to communicate across their kingdom,” Tanyl explained. “Ingenious, and something I intend to bring here when we are united as one again. We’re lucky to have one in our pocket who’s found a way out of the silencing binding they force on the shifters. He’ll go by Ren, and when it’s time to send updates, he’ll find you. So, be prepared at any given time.”
“And he’s loyal to the Crown?”
“You let me worry about it, but yes, he is. Although, he’s a low-bred shifter.” The same cold look fell upon his face. “I have a feeling you’ll be getting access to much more than he’s been able to, little elf.”
She wanted to smack him. “How long will I be in your employ?”
“Hard to say. But realistically, you’ll probably be there until we are strong enough to overtake the Throne.” He paused and smiled. It wasn’t kind. “Or until you find the wand and can free yourself. In which case, know I will welcome you with open arms.”
Trusting Tanyl anymore would be stupid.
He paused. “This is how you show your loyalty to your kingdom, Imani. Otherwise, you truly are a traitor.”
She stared at him, unblinking.
His penetrating gaze still fixed on her. An exacting, imperial gleam in his gray eyes made her think of Kiran, as if she were under a lens. Tanyl’s gaze lacked the wild menace of Kiran’s, but she still wanted to claw out his heart and stomp on it to get some hint of emotion. Anything would be better than the frigid indifference he now wore so well.
“And if I decide I won’t have any part in this?”
Bracing his elbows on his knees, Tanyl leaned forward. “Imani, if you choose them over us—if you decide never to come home or never send us what you will no doubt learn—I will personally light the fire around your body when you’re captured and let it burn until there’s absolutely nothing left. Not even bones.”
“I could be there for years ,” she said through gritted teeth. She hadn’t planned on needing that long to search for the wand, but he didn’t need to admit it.
In one smooth motion, he grabbed and shook her shoulders. “You better pray it doesn’t take years. We don’t have the time, and I don’t plan to let us grow weaker before moving. Things are already happening to make this upcoming conflict inevitable.”
Flinching, she tried to push him away. “Get off me.”
“I want to hear you agree to all of this,” he growled in a tone she’d never heard him use with her. His conversation with Kiran was the last time he’d been so forceful.
“Get your hands off me—” Imani cut herself off at the sound of the carriage door opening.
Esa and Nida stood outside, eyes squinting in the sun. It was higher in the sky, although not even midday, but it was hot enough for Imani’s anger to break her out in a sweat.
“My, my, what do we have here?” Esa asked in a lilting voice.
“Nothing,” Tanyl grunted, shoving his way out the door. Wearing that cold half-sneer she’d never seen before, he smoothed his clothes and hair before striding off without another word.
Imani glared at his back. Tanyl hit hard and fast when someone betrayed and attacked him—a part of him she’d never anticipated. For a fleeting moment, Imani wished things could return to how they had been. The fact remained—she still liked Tanyl.
But their old relationship was gone, shattered by her lies, and it wasn’t returning until she had the wand in hand. Even then, was Tanyl lost to her for good? Maybe. Imani didn’t care at this point if it meant she’d have the wand in her hands, but she still couldn’t deny the pang of hurt in her chest at losing another friend.
A terse silence settled around the three women. She and Esa hadn’t exactly been friendly with each other lately, and despite Nida’s sweet personality, Imani had killed her heartmate, even if indirectly. The female shifter wasn’t about to forgive her any time soon.
“I must say I’m a little surprised to see you here this morning,” Esa murmured. “Impressed, too.”
Imani didn’t deign to respond.
Esa was sly and unbothered as she climbed inside. “Who did you have to fuck to get them to spare your life?”
Imani wanted to open her mouth and scream her shadows at the pixie for assuming she had. Although, in most instances, Esa would probably be right.
Whispers murmured, and magic pressed against her skin. It wanted out. She wanted it out, too.
Imani faced the tiny pixie, her teeth clenched. The whispers built in her, feeling as violent as the one she held in last night against Aiden. The one she’d made herself sick shoving back down, so sure it would have been as horrifying as the first time with Malis.
Nida rubbed her temples. Then, with a fierce glare at odds with her beautiful face, she exited the coach, marching off to presumably find another one to ride in.
Probably for the best.
Esa ignored her and plowed on. “You could have avoided this mess if you hadn’t held back. You should’ve killed Aiden when you had the chance.”
Taken aback, Imani’s mouth gaped. “Held back what? He was bound to win, even after I gave him everything I had.”
“Don’t lie to me. I saw the magic. It was barely there, like shadows, but there was something . And even now, this whole carriage is steeped in shadow. What have you been hiding?”
Pointing to Esa’s chest, Imani’s lip curled. “You know nothing about my magic.”
Esa tilted her head to the side. “I might know something. And I’ll repeat it: I’m on your side.”
Imani arched a skeptical brow, and her mouth thinned. She wanted to have Esa as a friend again, but Kiran had told her not to trust anyone but herself. Ironically, sane advice from the Mad Prince.
“Are you? Because I will repay each person according to what they have done,” Imani said in a dark voice. The words tasted like violence. They felt like destiny.
It cowed Esa into a contemplative state, her violet eyes studying Imani before briefly flitting to the window.
Imani shut her eyes and leaned back against the plush seat, effectively ending the conversation. It had improved her spirits to hear Esa was on her side, but she wasn’t in a forgiving mood at the moment.
In the darkness of her mind, she committed Meira’s and Kiran’s faces from earlier to memory. She would never forget those looks—like they won, and she had already lost.
If they thought this meant she had lost, they didn’t know her. As far as she was concerned, both had drawn first blood, but they were merely getting warmed up.
Despite the iron-clad control over her soul draw that she’d developed because of Ara, she was still herself deep down in her bones. Accepting this person, the good and the bad, was the only path forward. Denying it was like asking someone to live without a beating heart in their chest. Ara had been right all along.
These offenses wouldn’t go unchecked. It wasn’t in Imani’s nature to acquiesce without a fight, especially not after being betrayed, left for dead by her own sister, and forced into a gilded cage by a mad prince before he finally sacrificed her in the dark bowels of his kingdom.
Crazed laughter burst from her, and Esa watched her warily. For a moment, Imani probably resembled Kiran in all his madness.
With her hand pressed to her mouth, she quieted but couldn’t stop smiling. She wasn’t grateful to Ara for much of anything, but she did have her to thank for her hardened heart.
With that thought, Imani was steadfast in what she needed to do. She wasn’t going to cry anymore. No. While grief still permeated the edges of her heart, the rest of her was now fucking furious . She focused on manifesting her desired future.
And such a wicked, ruthless future awaited her, too.
The last piece of advice Ara had given her that night stuck with Imani the most. Accepting everyone would soon hate and fear her did make things easier. It also reminded her how a person couldn’t accomplish anything without power, which required sacrifice, focus, and ruthlessness.
Even from the grave, her grandmother influenced her.
That was power.
She might not be a threat right now, blindsided and weakened, backed into a corner, but she could become one. She’d watch. She’d listen. She’d bide her time. She’d regroup in Niflheim, let them all bask in victory while she found her footing again. And the Drasil.
All the while, she’d learn everything their hearts truly desired, every secret, every wish, burying herself so deep into their skins they would question their sanity.
Then she would rip it all away before finally letting them die and consuming their souls.