Chapter 9 #2
She hadn’t shadow-traveled in weeks, not since leaving Niflheim, yet the power answered her call without hesitation.
Darkness began gathering, swirling into a cloud that surrounded Imani, a thick blanket of night blotting out the fireplace light.
It took her a few moments to realize wisps of shadow were rising from her hands and drifting around her body.
More shadows poured out of her, strands coiling tightly until they consumed her in their dark embrace.
She focused on the far side of the room, where the windows stood.
That was where she wanted to go.
With a gasp, the pull came faster than she expected. And as Imani reached for the destination, another urge tugged beneath the magic at the same moment. It was familiar, powerful, and buried so deeply inside her that she reacted before she understood it.
Kiran.
Her shadows seized on the connection.
No—
The room disappeared.
* * *
Moving by shadow had never been her preferred way to travel, as she desperately needed more practice.
Imani materialized in a dark room. A fire in the hearth sputtered as shadows appeared, but otherwise she barely breathed. Because this was Kiran’s chamber, her hand flew to her mouth as she tried to take stock.
The air was warmer here than in Vathis, and thick with his lingering scent—smoke, iron, and something darker that clung to the back of her throat.
The rumpled bed behind her still bore the faint imprint of a body that had occupied it too recently, as if the space itself refused to forget him.
Everything felt lived-in, claimed, saturated with his presence, making the walls seem closer and the silence heavier.
This place was not meant for rest. It was a place where he existed fully, without restraint, and now she stood within it, unguarded.
The space pressed in on her in a way her own quarters never had.
No distance here, no separation between presence and absence.
Even without him, everything screamed of Kiran’s presence.
It made her aware of herself in a way she didn’t like, of her breath, her body, and the way she stood inside something that was entirely his.
Imani held herself perfectly still, as if any movement might draw something from the air, might wake whatever lingered here in his absence. This was not safe.
An unwelcome awareness slid through her.
Memory flickered first, then her body answered before she could stop it.
Beneath both, her magic shifted toward him as if in recognition.
Heat unfurled low in her body, unbidden and undeniable, her thoughts snagging on him as memory blurred into want and sharpened into a far more dangerous emotion.
She wanted him—fiercely, irrationally—and that fact burned as much as the desire itself.
Imani’s mouth thinned as she forced it back, hating that this space—his space—could reach into her.
Her fingers brushed the edge of the rumpled sheets before she could stop herself.
The fabric was still faintly warm, still carrying the weight of him, and she didn’t pull away.
Instead, she let her hand press into it, just slightly, as if testing whether he might still be there beneath her touch, as if memory alone could summon him back.
For one dangerous, unguarded second, she let herself feel his absence and the aching truth that she missed him.
It hit her harder than she expected. It wasn’t just that she missed him; part of her had never truly stopped. She had simply hidden it beneath anger and betrayal. However, in this moment, free from distance and distraction, it emerged anew, raw and undeniable.
She ripped her hand away and deliberately dragged the memories forward.
His hands—the same ones that had touched her so incredibly—offered no comfort but exerted control.
His voice was no longer intimate but cutting.
She forced herself to remember the moment he chose power over her without hesitation.
Kiran wasn’t a temptation, not anymore. He was a threat wrapped in something dangerously familiar, a man who would take everything she had and call it fate.
Imani locked her jaw and forced the pull down hard, reclaiming herself before it could take root any deeper.
At least it was empty. Of that, she was sure and grateful. Within seconds of regaining her wits, Imani dragged the Drasil down her body to render herself invisible.
And it wasn’t a moment too soon. Her body disappeared, and the door crashed open, slamming into the wall and nearly coming off its hinges.
A furious Kiran entered, threw his crown to the floor, and threaded both hands through his hair.
He let out a frustrated sound, then cut himself off abruptly, whipping around so fast that Imani almost let out a peep of surprise.
His eyes darted to the corner where she stood, and he put his hands on his hips.
Lifting his chin, he seemed to smell her presence even though he couldn’t see her.
“Imani?” he whispered her name so softly she almost didn’t hear him.
Zadie stormed in after him. She was a petite River nymph, with her skin radiating a faint glow. Blonde waves of hair cascaded over her shoulders, threaded with mossy green that caught the dim light. She snapped her fingers in front of Kiran’s face. “What goes through that head of yours, hmm?”
Kiran blinked a few times, then leveled his glare at her. “I detest the man.”
“He’s the new High Sentinel of the Drow elves, and he has two daughters. One of them must become your new chosen.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation,” growled Kiran, prowling over to his desk. He leaned against it and crossed his arms. “Again.”
“I don’t particularly care what you want,” Zadie shot back. “It’s what’s needed to build alliances and shore up our forces.”
Kiran ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. “I know. I just need a little more time,” he sighed.
Imani clutched her wand tighter, a cold spike of possessiveness driving into her ribs. Despite the anger she still held for the man, she didn’t want to see him with anyone else.
Zadie leaned closer to him. “She’s not coming back, no matter what you do, Kiran.” Her voice was soft, almost pleading.
Were they talking about Imani? Damn right she wasn’t coming back. Aside from this little escapade, she never wanted to be any farther from here until she was officially queen. She just had to figure out how to get back as soon as she could.
“What I need from her is something else entirely,” he sneered.
“What plans do you have laid out, then?”
“Nothing firm yet. I’m still working out the details,” he said, turning and pouring himself a whiskey. “You’ll be the first to know.”
“Hmm.” She offered him her shoulder. “Forgive me if I don’t quite trust you these days.”
Imani perked up. Dissension among the ranks?
“Well,” Kiran said, taking a sip of his drink, “that sounds like your problem.”