Chapter 1 #2
She scoffed, but Saevel invaded her space, and it sent a shiver of something up her spine … Unease? Desire?
“After everything you’ve done to me, why should I give you the time of day?”
“Besides the fact that I’m a prince, which should be reason enough, I know Tanyl asked you to spy on us,” he said plainly. “I can feed you pieces of information to pass along that will seem useful to him but protect you from being burned at the stake for betraying our country.”
His eyes were earnest. With such honest innocence glowing inside them, Imani speculated how much of the dirty work he had Kiran do.
While intimidating and impulsive, under it all, Saevel’s spirit remained pure.
Such a look would never pass over the elf prince’s face—Kiran destroyed those emotions in himself a long time ago—and she hated Saevel a little for it.
Kiran was his own person and made his own choices, but his family had made him into the worst version of himself, of that she was certain.
“Your brother might be a snake, but you’re an asshole all the same,” she declared.
So much for treading carefully, Imani admonished herself.
“You can call me that and worse tonight, love … I just want you to feed from me.” He craned his neck down and kissed the sensitive spot beneath her ear.
The feel of his lips made her arch her back. She forced the feeling away, however, and tried to twist out of his reach. He banded an arm around her waist and pulled her back to his broad chest again. Saevel’s dark hair fell over her eye as he kissed her cheek, and she recoiled a little.
A slapping sound came from another room next door, and Kiran’s harsh but lustful voice sounded from within. There was no doubt what was happening in the other room. Who was he with?
Imani froze as a shiver of curiosity rippled through her muscles. She clenched her fists to gain control. He was having sex with someone else. While some of her felt a stab of jealousy, she was mostly turned on. She made a split decision with a slow smile.
“All right, I’ll give you what you want—sex for information—and it better be good.”
“The information or the sex?”
“Both.”
She shimmied out of her dress. Then, in only her lacy underthings, she stood with her hands on her hips and motioned Saevel forward.
While this hadn’t been her plan tonight, she felt an odd sense of satisfaction in taking control of her troublesome feelings for Kiran and ordering around the Niflheim heir apparent.
It instilled some manner of self-confidence she so desperately needed at that moment.
She hoped Kiran would hear and feel that same stab of jealousy.
Petty, but she didn’t give a single fuck at the moment, not after hearing those moans from the other room.
Saevel’s face turned fierce and feral. With one hand, he freed himself from his trousers then ripped her slip off.
And without any concern for her comfort, he rammed inside of her with a single, vicious thrust. The sound that left him was a mix of a human groan and a shifter rumble that vibrated through her chest.
He drove his hips against her body, pressing himself into her as far as he could go, trying to find a way even deeper inside her.
She spun around to give him more access.
The shifter prince snarled savagely, pulling her closer as he thrust in deeper from behind, his hips slapping against her. Imani used one of the beams as leverage to increase the pushback.
The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room. His cock pounded, and Imani moaned loudly, hoping the Serpent Prince could hear, before dropping her head as she soaked in the delicious friction.
She smiled to herself, imagining someone else behind her. Kiran. It hurt to admit she did not enjoy Kiran sleeping with other females. She remembered how hot her body had become when he’d kissed her that night of blood burning. Even just his big hands running down her soft skin had made her melt.
She looked back at Saevel. Why couldn’t she desire him in the same way?
Still, it soothed something in her soul to show Kiran she was strong and unwilling to let her shell crack just because the Serpent Prince wanted to have a meaningless fuck.
She could do the same. And if it got her what she needed—information—it was useful.
Saevel curled one of his hands around her shoulder, and he held her against him while he reached his other hand around and down, finding her clit. He massaged her, and his grunts of pleasure slithered across her flesh, heightening the rapture building within her body.
He then pulled out and pushed her toward the bed. Imani stumbled a little then recovered and reached back for him. His growl was soft and sexy as he pushed her down and put his hands over her head on the bed then ground into her further.
His soul emanated heightened emotions and pleasure. She could feel it pulsing inside his chest.
Not caring about permission, she fed from him, careful not to take too much.
As she called the piece of Saevel toward her, it snaked up her arm, invisible to him, and she breathed deeply.
Her shadows swirled in the corners of the room a little, and her eyes widened at how they flashed around.
The flames in the fireplace rippled softly, too, as if disturbed by a breeze.
The prince’s eyes rolled back in bliss as she fed, but he kept going. Imani’s mind drifted a little.
Could Kiran hear them? Who was he with right now? Was she as good as Imani?
Imagining Kiran, Imani let out another sensual moan—and a sharp pain struck her right between the eyes. A pain like she’d never experienced while feeding. She pressed her lips together, silencing herself.
Saevel kept going, but the pain didn’t abate, and she groaned, but not in pleasure.
Something was wrong.
Was she feeling a physical reaction to Kiran fucking someone else? It hurt her heart imagining what he was doing right now, but she needed to keep it together.
Just as another wave of pain washed over her, Saevel finished inside her and slowed his hips.
Almost immediately, Imani pushed him off her. Drawing in breath after breath, she tore her hands into her hair, ripping at the braid, and stood.
Irritation darkened Saevel’s features. His brows snapped together as he watched her dress.
Her whole body shook now, tremors sliding through her limbs. Nausea roiled through her, too, and she clutched her stomach as she looked for her dress. It lay discarded on the rug by the fireplace. When she dragged her dress over her head, the room slanted.
This felt like one of the divination visions coming on, but much, much stronger. Something dangerous was happening to her, and like when her brands appeared, her instincts were screaming for her to hide.
“Is that it?” Saevel asked, confused, as he rounded on her. He reached out to hold her again.
Imani felt sick to her stomach; the pain she was suddenly feeling was taking over her body. Something was extremely wrong, and she absolutely needed to keep this hidden from Saevel, someone she didn’t trust one bit.
In fact, she was almost positive this was another vision from Meira coming on, far more intense than any other. Something was happening to her sister … and, consequently, her.
Still shaking, Imani shoved past him. “I need to go,” she mumbled.
Saevel grabbed his clothes. He shrugged on his shirt and pulled on his pants while watching her with his brows drawn. “I figured you’d stay longer.”
“You figured wrong,” she muttered. “I’m tired; don’t take it personally.” Ladies didn’t usually leave a prince like she was doing. But she was not about to let decorum stop her, not when she needed to hide this pain from him—from everyone.
What in the Six Saints was going on? The visions had never been this invasive and painful before.
Leaving an open-mouthed Saevel sitting on his bed, Imani stepped outside into the drizzle and eyed the woods behind the tent. Dazed, her feet practically moved on their own as she hurried through the haze of rain, gaze intent on the heavy darkness amongst the trees.
Something hard blocked her way. She ran into the steel chest of Prince Kiran.
Taken aback at her presence outside his brother’s tent, he openly stared at her with his eyes narrowed and mouth thin.
Indeed, his furious green iris appeared as if it would burn right through her.
But was he worried about her? A small vulnerable part of her hoped he was at least concerned, and she even thought about asking him for help.
To not feel so alone in this suffering sounded lovely.
But she could never read Kiran, and he didn’t deserve her secrets.
One thing was obvious—he wasn’t happy about finding her leaving his brother’s tent without knowing why she had been there in the first place.
Well, too bad.
The tightening sensation such a look spurred in her chest nearly caused her to lose her breath with its strength.
Kiran moved to reach for her waist as she swayed on the spot, but she pushed him away. The rest of the pain was easy to ignore with the immense pounding in her head. She pinched her fingers to the bridge of her nose, unwilling to look at him anymore.
“Get away from me,” she growled, putting out her other hand to push him out of the way.
The planes of his flat abdomen were firm underneath her fingers when she touched him, and his skin was warm even through his clothes.
Imani longed to slide her hands up and down his waist and bury her head in his chest, to not feel so alone in this agony.
Instead, she stumbled into the woods nearby, alone, without another word.
Once in the cover of the tree line, she darted a glance over her shoulder.
As if frozen in place, he merely stood there, watching her with drawn brows. But there was a little less malice painted across his handsome features.
With her attention elsewhere, she tripped over a branch. Once she righted herself and looked back again, he was gone.