Chapter 27
The steward paused and bowed his head slightly after Kiran’s veiled threat of violence if Imani’s safety was compromised.
“As is your right, Your Highness. I can now see how protected she needs to be, and I personally take that responsibility with the utmost seriousness. We are honored by your presence and opportunity to host your beautiful heartmate—she is extraordinary, and I would hate for anything to befall her, especially since we know many have not even glimpsed her yet … and she is magnificent.”
“Indeed, even amongst her own kind,” Kiran said quietly, not even trying to hide the arrogance in his voice as he dropped his head and pressed a kiss to her hair again in front of everyone. “Melme endanyo, aomagho ruya,” he murmured so only she could hear, his voice reverent.
Her face flushed hearing his words.
It was pretend. She tried to get control of her emotions. Maybe Kiran was right, and the spell was doing things to both of them.
“What type of Essenheim elf are you, Your Highness? Prince Kiran didn’t specify in his correspondence. Understandable, as he was, of course, dealing with many important issues of late.”
It took her a moment to realize they were speaking to her. She pulled away from Kiran to give Ven a once-over. He towered over her like most males, but she imbued her aura with her power, and it felt like she was the one towering over him at that moment.
A strong hand remained on her back while Kiran stared warning daggers at the steward. It comforted her, saying, I’m here.
But Imani didn’t need it.
She lifted her head as the breeze played with the loose tendrils of her elaborate coiffure, eyes sliding to Ven. “A High-Norn elf. From the Draswood Forest,” she said softly, giving him a dazzling look. “Norn elves are the only Essenheim elves in existence these days in the Northern Kingdom.”
Ven seemed to flush in response to her attention on him. The other elves’ eyes widened, as if they were staring at a ten-pound jewel. They hadn’t been expecting that at all—Niflheim must keep knowledge of Essenheim limited to only a few. Much like her own kingdom.
It was a strong card to play. She was even more rare and exotic now.
“Extraordinary. One of the rarest of breeds in our realm, then,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The blue leaf is your sigil, no?”
Nodding, she slid up her sleeve and held out her wrist for them to see her brand. Kiran’s sigil was next to hers in the heartmate location. The illusion of it, that was.
Her eyes narrowed at the sigils, which had changed. Now they were entwined even further together with several swooping vines connecting the two. Odd, she didn’t remember Kiran casting that illusion, but maybe she’d missed it.
Everyone murmured their disbelief, but Ven cut them off with a wave of his hand, motioning for them to follow him forward.
“Come; we are on a tight schedule with the archmage witch and head of our security, who wishes to meet with you both.”
They entered a small room adorned in marble. It was white and shining, and again, Imani’s eyes widened and wandered. Several iron cages lined the far-right wall.
“Your Highnesses, these are the lifts. They will take us down into the mountain to Eto. Then back up again at the end of your stay.”
Imani tried to smile back. Kiran’s magic still surrounded them again, despite the wards in place to remove such spells, making the atmosphere uneasy.
Imani had never ridden in such a thing before and tightened her grip on Kiran’s hand. He squeezed back, making his magical signature soothingly surround and caress her.
The female elf kept walking, taking them through another door, though. Magic shimmered as they passed through the walkway, like an invisible veil.
“I hope you don’t mind, but a few security measures will need to be taken before we can permit you to enter the city.” She smiled at them. “Required for all outsiders, even for the royal family.”
Ven fell in step next to Kiran, his voice low. Imani listened while making small talk with the female.
“Prince Kiran, as elves, we know how protective males can be, aggressive even—”
“Indeed. When it comes to her, I assure you that I most certainly am that,” Kiran cut him off, his voice calm but threatening. He reached for her on instinct, pulling her closer. Imani had never heard him sound like that around her.
He was playing his part perfectly.
It seemed to affect everyone around them, too.
“Of course, of course, especially when she’s”—he bowed his head—“a High-Bred Norn elf.”
Imani felt that swirl of magic around her flare outward more intensely. She wondered if it was on purpose to threaten Ven … or if he’d lost control.
Odd. Kiran never lost control.
“Ven, I think you know my reputation … I’m not a patient man when it comes to most things. But let me be clear—I have none when it concerns my heartmate’s safety,” he bit out quietly.
“I understand. That’s why I’m offering this advice.
While we’ll have the security and wards in place, there will be nearly a thousand people at the gala tonight, and they’re expecting you and the princess.
I anticipate your heartmate is going to cause quite a bit of excitement in Eto …
I would keep her close tonight then with so many people looking at her. ”
Kiran raised his brows and tilted his head, giving the other elf an arrogant, amused smile.
“Is that all? Ven, I appreciate the advice, but it’s like this wherever I go with her.
As long as the security measures I asked for are heeded …
let them look at my heartmate,” Kiran replied, possessively slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her temple again. “Nothing would please me more.”
After a terrifying ride down on the lifts that turned Imani’s stomach, they entered another smaller room with dark, luxurious furniture and a fire burning, all built into the mountain.
“Please, have a seat. Our archmage witch will be here shortly.”
They were left alone.
Imani rounded on Kiran. “You never said they had an archmage witch,” she hissed.
“So? I’m an archmage witch.” He held up his hand with the purple mark, looking bored.
“Yes, but this one might have more powerful magic.”
“Not as powerful as mine. Our spell will work.”
Gods, he was arrogant, but probably correct. Imani hated being surprised. Being unprepared.
Kiran glanced around the room and rolled his eyes. “Calm down.” He pointed to a couch. “Sit.”
All pretense of him being the caring heartmate was gone.
It was annoying when he was calm and she was irritated.
She huffed and plopped down on the couch, straightening out the folds of her dress.
It was a deep burgundy, long-sleeved, and went down to the floor without being voluminous.
The bodice felt tight, but it was cut perfectly to show off her cleavage.
She crossed her arms, knowing they showed more when she did, glaring at him.
Kiran strode over her, a menacing glint in his eyes. He dropped down next to her, draping his arm loosely around the back of the sofa and angling his body toward her. With a delicate touch, he twirled a piece of her hair around his finger.
“I don’t need my magic when I have you, though, do I?” He wrapped his strong hand around her wrist and brought it to his mouth, kissing their glamoured brands with a devilish grin. “Their archmage is going to be eating out of the palm of this perfect little hand.”
With a playful swipe, she slapped his hands away from her. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she countered, a ghost of a smile on her face.
All playfulness fell from his face. He leaned closer, and his eyes took on that predatory look again. “I absolutely do not like it. But with you, I need to get used to it,” he murmured against her neck. He kissed behind her ear.
A tremble ran through her body, which she tried to hide by swatting him away again. Imani couldn’t tell if they were still pretending or not.
She tried to keep her voice light. “Well then, it’s my new life ambition. You know how I enjoy irritating you.”
He let out a low laugh and pulled her closer, rubbing his nose up her neck.
“Mine … This is all mine,” he whispered with a smile against her.
“You look like something out of a dream … one I want to be inside of as soon as possible.” He nuzzled her hair.
“You smell so wonderful, aomagho ruya, and it’s driving me mad.
” He said this more to himself, it seemed.
Kiran was hungry. That was what this behavior boiled down to, Imani surmised, as she sat there frozen with indecision.
It wasn’t time yet. They had a strict schedule and stuck to it. She had no idea why, but Kiran had insisted.
The door opened, and their eyes snapped at the motion. Kiran’s arm was still around her, but he sat up straighter and his arm tightened around her. His magic tightened, too, encircling them.
Isn’t his magic around her against the rules? Imani wondered what Kiran’s game was.
The archmage was an older man, but quite striking. He had gold eyes and dark hair, like many dwarves she had noticed. He had broad shoulders, and was tall and lithe, with hair cropped short, the sharp points of his elvish ears visible. The purple archmage mark shone on his hand.
He regarded them with his hands clasped behind his back but did not smile. “Your Highnesses.” He bowed. “I’m Archmage Toross. The city of Eto is eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
He regarded Imani for longer than necessary, as if trying to work out a puzzle, then he abruptly turned to Kiran.
“I can understand why you’re so protective of your lovely mate, Your Highness.
But I do not take lightly to the type of protection spell you have around her when I’m assessing whether to admit you both to our city.
This room is imbued with ancient magic to detect even the most powerful witches’ spells. ”
Imani tried to hide her confusion, and then it dawned on her. It wasn’t Kiran’s magic encircling them—it was encircling her.
She glanced at Kiran. His gaze pierced the archmage as his jaw worked. Imani knew Kiran well enough to understand that he didn’t tolerate being spoken to this way. Unless it was from his family.
The prince turned to look at Imani. His gaze softened as he reached to tuck the curl he had been playing with back behind her ear.
“Forgive me, Archmage Toross. My mate is quite literally constantly protected by my defensive magic. At any given moment, she’s likely surrounded by at least a dozen defensive spells I personally created and cast for her.
And this one I never remove—it’s not a glamour, so I didn’t think it would be a problem.
Of course, I can for now. Do you have a heartmate? ”
“I don’t.”
“Then you could never understand how precious—how essential—she is to me. How impossible it is to control those instincts to keep her safe. Especially when I have a High-Bred Norn female for a heartmate. I know this is your first experience with one, but I’m sure you’re aware of their reputation,” he said quietly, still watching her.
He moved the hand around her shoulders to trace tiny circles on the back of her neck.
Imani kept her face impartial, but her heart was beating fast. This had to be part of his plan.
It had to be. Kiran knew about the ancient magic they used to detect defensive spells.
He was playing this witch, taking a risk with the spell to make their relationship more believable. To distract the archmage.
The magic around her disappeared, and Kiran turned his gaze to the archmage again. “At any rate, my apologies. Of course we are here to comply with whatever you need,” he said, sounding sincere.
Archmage Toross sat down in the chair across from them and took out his wand.
He was close, maybe about a foot away. With the magic gone, he gave Imani a curious, hungry look, as if he were just seeing her for the first time.
The spell Kiran had around her must have been powerful.
She wished he’d cast it before they’d entered the mountain, but of course, that wasn’t part of the plan. This spell was just for the archmage.
“Your Highness, this is a surprise. Your heartmate is a Norn. And she’s …” He trailed off, looking her up and down, almost in a daze.
Imani averted her eyes to avoid enthralling him even more.
He shot his suspicious eyes to Kiran.
“He didn’t steal me from the Draswood, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Imani said quietly, forcing herself to meet his eyes, feeling the archmage’s magic roam over her.
Her shadows wanted to come to the surface, and she could feel them shimmering under her skin, but she stayed in control.
“We met when he came to Essenheim on behalf of his father.” The truth. Mostly.
“They call the Norn the Silver Angels in our stories. A fitting name. Gods, you’re lovely beyond compare … incredible eyes. I’ve never seen such beautiful irises.” He leaned closer to her, mesmerized, gaze hungry.
Imani had seen this before.
The archmage moved to reach for her, and Imani flinched then let her wand slide out from her sleeve and pointed it at his hand. She stared directly into his eyes. “Don’t you dare move or say another word,” she growled, her voice layered with that unusual timbre her soul draw caused.
The archmage flew back into the chair. He appeared to be trying to move but couldn’t.