Chapter 28
The power of her soul draw, as always, intoxicated her.
She stood and circled around him, testing the limits of the spell she’d put on him. Wiggling against invisible bindings, the archmage tried to move but couldn’t.
“Can you speak?” Imani asked, her voice still sounding strange.
Nothing happened except he writhed even more.
Leaning down, she put her face directly in front of his. “You are never going to touch me unless I give you permission. You are barely going to look at me. Make a sound—any sound you can—to tell me you understand.”
A garbled noise came from his throat.
Imani’s heart pounded, and she turned away from him, her hand on her chest, trying to get control. She could feel her aura wrapped around him as if it were a physical entity—shadows wanting out, wanting to devour him.
What will happen when I let go? Her mind reeled. A pleasure like she’d never known flooded her, and she flexed her hands, feeling the power emanating from them. If she wanted to feed from him, she could right now.
This was the purpose of her power.
But she didn’t want to feed from this archmage. She needed him to trust them, and instead, she’d just attacked his free will.
Her hand flew to her chest to calm her beating heart before she whipped around to Kiran.
He still sat casually on the sofa with his arm resting on the back. His eyes were wide as he stared, almost transfixed, at the archmage.
Imani expected Kiran to step in and stop her, but when he didn’t, she went over and hovered over the archmage’s face. “You will never touch me again …”
Imani started trembling, overwhelmed by the sheer power she wielded.
Kiran slowly turned away from the archmage to stare up at her. He stood and placed his hand to her chest, pressing down and moving it slightly. Cool, calming feelings spread throughout her body.
Wilting slightly, she felt her breathing even out. Her eyes slid shut, her heart slowing. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He looked at her strangely for a moment. Then, keeping his hand against her, she felt his forehead against hers. “No one touches you if you don’t want them to.”
Something raged inside him. She could feel it—she didn’t know how she knew, but she did. “You want to kill him,” she stated flatly.
“Of course I do … but we need him, remember?” He lifted his head from her and stroked his hand over her hair. “Besides, I’d let you do the honors. I’m nothing if not a gentleman.”
She choked out a laugh and rolled her eyes.
He stood up and pointed his wand at the archmage.
“If I ever see you look at my heartmate like that again, talk to her like that again, or fucking touch her—I will let her kill you.” He kneeled down and grabbed him by the throat.
“Believe me … I’m the only thing standing between you and a vicious murder at my mate’s magic.
She is small and lovely, but truly, she’s a nasty piece of work.
One of the many things I love so much about her. ”
The archmage whimpered.
“Pieces of shit like you are why I cast those spells around my perfect heartmate. If you had a heartmate, you’d know that the instincts are intense.
They roar at me to keep my mate close, make sure she is safe.
Most male elves are only aggressive, territorial, and protective when their female is hungry.
But me? I have shifter blood.” He bared his teeth.
“And it means I’m constantly territorial and protective of my heartmate”—he pointed back at Imani—“because fucking look at her.”
The archmage didn’t move.
“Imani, order him to look at you,” Kiran demanded, his eyes never leaving the archmage’s face.
“Look at me,” she murmured.
With a snap, the man’s eyes met hers.
Kiran’s lip curled, almost like he wanted to smile, then he took out his wand and continued his speech.
“Just now, you made the unfortunate mistake of trying to touch what’s most precious to me.
The person I love the most in this world.
I understand your compulsion—she is utterly perfect and mesmerizing.
Don’t feel too bad,” he confided then grabbed the witch’s face between his hands, smashing his cheeks together.
“Everyone looks at her that way. But she is not yours to touch, no matter how tempting it is—she’s mine.
” He shook the witch slightly and leaned closer to his ear.
“We won’t kill you, even though I want to, desperately. ”
Kiran shoved the archmage back against the chair and let his full grin finally show. A serpentine smile of pure power. He flipped his wand in his hands. “Now, I’m going to let her finish her work, and she’s going to manipulate you into letting us into your city.”
Kiran was going to do what?
The prince turned to her and laughed—laughed. With a bow of his head, he stepped aside. “Tell him what he’s going to do, my darling.”
Tilting her head to the side, Imani just stared at Kiran. It was then that she realized the truth—she had all the power here. The room wasn’t spelled against Norn magic.
Fighting a devilish grin of her own, she swept forward until she was directly in front of the archmage. Imani could feel her feeding draw magic vibrating around him.
She stared directly into his eyes. Her voice was lilting and soothing.
“You won’t remember a word of this conversation since I caught you in my draw.
But when I set you free, you will not attempt to touch me, you’ll remember that you’re not meant to touch me, and you will examine our brands and feel our magic then deem us an authentic heartmated pair, trustworthy enough to enter your city.
” She paused. “Nod if you understand.” Again, her voice was a sweet song even to her ears.
Was this Kiran’s plan all along? To use my magic to give them access to the city instead of all this silly heartmate business?
She had to wonder.
A lifting of his chin was all the archmage could manage, but Imani would take it.
She straightened up and turned to the prince. His eyes were the hungriest she’d ever seen.
“Come to me, my darling,” he said, beckoning her to him.
Imani took measured steps until she stood at his side.
Tightening an arm around her so she was closer, he kissed her temple. “You’re magnificent. Now, set him free, aomagho ruya.”
Her lips pursed at the command, but she knew it was time.
A part of her enjoyed being on the same team as the prince. She curled into his side, and he kissed her temple again. Like yarn back into a box, she slowly unknotted her magic from around the archmage and pulled it back into her signature.
Kiran laced their fingers together and helped her sit down again. That hunger in his gaze hadn’t abated, and he seemed to be breathing faster than normal, but all he did was place his other hand on her face and shut his eyes for a second before settling back against the divan.
The archmage’s glazed eyes began to clear.
He shook his head, as if trying to stop the world from spinning.
Blinking a few times, he rolled up his sleeves, as if nothing had happened and he was simply about to get down to business.
“I have to say … a mixed atrophic and nascent breed mating pair is exceedingly rare. First, though, allow me to see your archmage marking, Your Highness.”
Kiran’s face was indifferent, but he let go of her hand and showed him the top of his fist. The purple symbol gleamed.
The archmage murmured a few things, and Imani felt the spell. He nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness. Also rare for the royal family to produce an archmage. Your bloodline hasn’t for hundreds of years, correct?”
“Correct,” he deadpanned. Kiran did not like this man.
“Please hold out your markings.”
They both pulled up their sleeves. The archmage examined Kiran’s first. He scanned his arm, and Imani saw a barely perceptible flash of surprise in his expression.
She glanced at his arm and realized, to her own shock, that he had no glamour covering his magic brands, including his red cadence magic brand.
The prince’s markings were remarkable. His power was unreal. Her mouth fell open a little as she counted them and took in all his magic. Terrestrial, water, fire, enchantment, illusion, defensive, conjuring, binding, alteration, healing, and two red brands—his cadence magic … and something else.
A person had twelve every hundred years in the Essenheim Kingdom. It was probably the same here based on the look from the archmage.
Possessive pride bloomed in her. Which was silly because Kiran was not her real heartmate, nor did she even really like the arrogant, sneering ass most days. Yet, for the next few days, he was hers.
She caught Kiran’s eyes, and he laced his fingers with hers again, bringing her hand to his mouth and softly kissing her inner wrist—their markings—not caring that the archmage was still looking at his other arm.
He wasn’t worried in the slightest at this clearly powerful witch sensing the spell over the heartmate markings.
Suddenly, Imani wasn’t either. Not only had Kiran cast the illusion spells himself, but he’d used flesh magic to add to the strength.
Her eyes sparkled when Kiran handed Imani’s wrist over to the archmage. They were going to walk into Eto, and Imani was going to steal right from under their noses.
Her elf prince traced small, soothing circles on the back of her neck, watching the other male witch with a predatory warning while the archmage examined Imani’s heartmate marking and all eight of her brands—again, including the red one.
The archmage didn’t even bat an eye at it.
How common were mixed-color brands in Niflheim—or Essenheim for that matter?
“An eight-mark … still very powerful,” the archmage muttered, rubbing his fingers over Imani’s brands.
Kiran followed every movement of the man’s hands on her. Imani kept her back straight and expression focused. She looked rigid, but her body purred in relaxation as the prince’s fingers gently tingled over and over on her skin. Kiran knew it, too, from how her magic was reacting.
The archmage was done much faster with Imani than with Kiran and, honestly, Imani was a little offended. As if only Kiran was the serious threat. She fought her natural inclination to glare at him. After all, her role was the enchanting princess, not surly, plain old Imani.
Sitting back, he replaced his wand in his jacket pocket and turned to Kiran. “It was quite unbelievable to be asked to meet Prince Kiran and his heartmate … even more unbelievable when you brought her in here and I see she’s a rare Norn elf.”
“Why is that unbelievable?”
“I don’t think a female Norn has passed through these borders in five thousand years. I have never seen one. No one has. Yet here she is. You may have the rarest, most exquisite mate I’ve ever heard of or seen, Your Highness. It’s quite unbelievable.”
Zadie had been right; these people were obsessed. Imani refrained from making a dour face.
“I’m well aware,” Kiran murmured with a glare, his voice even as he continued calming her with his gentle fingers.
“Two elves … and your bond is strong.” He darted his eyes to Imani then back to Kiran. “And with her … I now understand your fierce protectiveness of her, Your Highness.” The archmage’s voice was so quiet she barely heard the last part, but Kiran had.
“Good. I don’t appreciate excessive attention on her for being a female High-Norn elf,” Kiran replied smoothly. Imani practically purred hearing that velvet soft voice with an arrogance most people could only dream of. Gods, he didn’t like this witch one bit.
“I now give you permission to enter Eto as our welcomed guests,” the dwarf said with an understanding in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Please, enjoy everything our city has to offer.”
The elf prince said nothing as he immediately stood and moved to help Imani stand, too. Within seconds, he led them through another room, back to the lifts. Their escort party was waiting, and many of them smiled at Imani. She tried to smile back, but something was still itching at her.
Had Kiran even cast a heartmate spell over them, or had he simply planned to use the protection spell as a ruse to pull out her soul draw all along? The thought chilled her.
He knew she could get anything she wanted as long as she could control the lust in her victim.
Imani never wanted to end up like those enslaved female elves. And not for the first time in her life, she teetered too close to that situation.