Chapter 30
The chatter during the lavish meal bored Imani to tears, and all she could do was drink enough wine to satiate that boredom. Her eyes blurred, and the conversation faded slightly until the topic landed on her home kingdom.
“The borders are a disaster,” one courtier said while taking a sip of his wine.
“Your Highness, does your father have plans to secure them? Gods know we can’t depend on that pretender to the north to take care of it with his own problems. He’s too busy hunting down the real monarch and killing those who oppose him while he’s at it. And they call us savages.”
Flicking back and forth, Imani’s ears perked up at that statement. It was almost unbelievable that Tanyl would do something so brash.
“Who says the Essenheim king is a pretender?” she asked softly, hoping her voice wasn’t slurring.
It was the first she’d spoken all night, and every single eye landed on her.
“Rumors are rampant the true monarch is in hiding, Princess, because the crown on Tanyl’s head has some peculiarities.
It isn’t passing the typical tests they put the new monarchs through.
So, now the Essenheim king is dealing with rebellion from the pixies, and the Norn have remained neutral, as always, but for how long?
Plus, the borders have been a nightmare.
And, really, I think our king should do something about it. ”
“Rest assured,” Kiran replied smoothly, “these problems will work themselves out soon.”
Ah. There it was—the elvish charm. The facade.
“Oh, enough politics,” a woman dripping in jewels said, swiping her wine from the table.
She turned to the prince, her eyes glittering like the diamonds she wore.
“It’s so lucky when elves find their heartmates.
” She grazed the top of Kiran’s hand and leaned closer.
“It’s becoming even rarer for elves to have children, but at least we still can within our own breed. Rare, but it happens.”
Kiran gave the other female elf a curious look.
Imani wanted to swat her away, but her hand remained still, resting on the table next to him.
Kiran slowly ran his fingertips over Imani’s before lacing their hands together. “Yes, I am lucky to have found her,” he murmured, holding Imani’s hand in his lap and brushing his other hand over her fingers, playing with them.
“Indeed. I’ve never seen a prettier female,” the other woman said flatly then smiled seductively at Kiran and lightly touched his arm. “You are certain to have the most beautiful little ones, Your Highness.”
Imani shot daggers at the woman. She had a passing thought to set her hair on fire for touching Kiran like that—for even looking at him. Instead, she forced a smile and curled her fist into a tight ball.
“They will certainly have the most beautiful mother,” he replied, tugging Imani closer. “But I agree. Our little ones will be perfect,” he lied softly, pressing a kiss to Imani’s temple.
Imani felt a fierce satisfaction surge in her. Her eyes found his, and he gave her a half-smile. Even after he turned away, she stared at him, feeling something heavy and uncomfortable in her chest.
Only heartmates could truly have children anymore, despite what the other dwarf had said and despite Ayla’s extremely rare situation. It might seem like Imani didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, but for someone without a true family for her whole life, she wanted one.
The other male turned to the prince. “Prince Kiran, as a royal elf, I’m sure you felt fortunate when you learned your heartmate was one, as well. More royal heirs.” He gave him a friendly smile.
“It wasn’t the first thought on my mind when I learned who my heartmate was, but yes … I love that she’s an elf like me.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back, and she moved closer to him.
“What was your first thought?”
“That there had been a mistake.” He smiled, all charm.
Everyone politely laughed and started chiming in with their own examples.
His eyes followed her across the room as she slipped out. They’d stayed late enough, anyway, and Kiran could say their goodbyes for them.
Away from him, Imani needed to be gone. They had fed last week, and it would be off schedule to ask again.
She padded back to their room, hiding from the crowds of sycophants. In the small, dark hallway, Imani leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths.
She snapped her head to the right. Kiran’s silhouette cut an imposing profile as he prowled closer. He seemed angry, but gods, he smelled so perfect. Imani wanted him. She glared as he approached, though.
“I don’t need a lecture from you about sneaking out.” She scrubbed her hands down her face.
Kiran moved closer until he was right in front of her. Imani kept her eyes shut. She couldn’t look at him.
“Leave. You are the last person I need to see right now,” she ground out.
He was suddenly holding her face, a light touch.
She opened her eyes and looked up. A storm raged in his expression, but Imani saw now he wasn’t angry at her.
“Imani, you need to feed.” His voice was low and raspy.
“Yes, and I’m sorry. It’s not … our week. Normally, I would find someone else, but we are here, and you’re supposed to be my—”
“I don’t fucking share. If you need me, I will take care of you.” He pointed to his chest. Then, with a jerk, he tightened his arm around her, leading her down the hall into their room. He waved his wand in front of him, and the door flew open then slammed closed as he pulled her close against him.
“That was an entertaining made-up story you told at dinner,” she said softly.
He smiled against her neck. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“Hmm,” she murmured as he kissed behind her ear. Imani felt his sharp fangs nip the sensitive skin there, drawing a little blood. It sent desire through her.
“Of course, my next thought when I first saw you,” he said between kissing her, “was that I couldn’t possibly deserve such a lovely, fierce creature.”
Imani loved the lies he spun. When they’d first met, he had sneered and humiliated her.
“You are a good liar,” she whispered, arching her back. “I almost believed what you said back there.”
“About what?”
“Everything. Us meeting for the first time. That bit about our children.”
He pulled away and looked at her but didn’t respond. Imani watched him wage an inner war, unable to detect what exactly was happening behind those mismatched eyes—he kept the doors to his mind firmly closed.
She swallowed, diverting her attention to the strong column of his thick neck.
It wasn’t that Imani didn’t want children—she did.
Elves were a species obsessed with the idea of reproducing.
Only one out of two Norn babes survived.
But the mere thought of breeding with the arrogant prince who carried an alarmingly wonderful scent was the last thing Imani wanted floating into her rioting mind.
This binding to Kiran was abnormal. It was pulling them together in a way that scared her. She needed distance.
“We can’t make this a habit of you visiting my bed every other night. It is not as if we need to feed that much, and even if I wanted to, you are not my heartmate. We can’t produce a child for your father, so it is hardly necessary. I’ll find another way tonight,” she whispered firmly.
He released her but turned fully toward her, towering, eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you tire of me, my darling?”
Imani hated how those words hurt her chest and how uncertain she sounded as she answered breathlessly. “Yes.”
The hard length of his cock settled against her waist. Then his voice lowered to a low rumble, and it was as if he were confessing a sin. “You are a pretty liar, but a liar, nonetheless.”
“I can wait—”
“I can’t,” he said. He grabbed her hair in his fist then slammed her down until she hit the floor. Bruises would cover her knees.
“Suck it,” he ground out.
She narrowed her eyes at him. His arrogance was absolutely outrageous—borderline insulting.
She undid his pants and reached inside without hesitation, grabbing his long length. Pulling the tip into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around it then tugged gently from the bottom. A low guttural growl sounded from his throat, and she did it again, falling into a rhythm.
He liked this, and Imani liked sucking him, too.
She liked the low sounds of pleasure from his throat, his dark head tipped back as he thrust his hips against her face.
He threaded a hand through her hair, caressing at first, then pushing her forward until he hit the back of her throat.
She could feel he was close, and then he pulled out with a maniacal smirk on his face.
Imani didn’t let him recover. She stood and helped him take his shirt off, which only made him smile wider.
This time, when he reached out for her, their blood-binding mark buzzed with pleasure, and her knees threatened to buckle. He wrapped his arm around her chest as he forced her back to press against him with her hands braced on the wall.
He stroked a hand up her back, thrust his fingers into her hair, and tilted her head back. Slowly, he slipped inside her, and as he filled her, her mind went blank for a moment. She shifted her hips against him as Kiran began moving inside her. He kissed her deeply.
Imani let him, breathing in his beautiful scent. Something always felt right when they were together, like it was meant to be, a temporary star gleaming in the darkness.
All his strange bindings with unnamed peoples somehow seemed part of it, belonging to his skin like the small details on a distant horizon. So beautiful, Imani thought. Too beautiful.
He pulled away, Imani’s lips still open, tingling and yearning for him to return. She turned around and ran her hand through his thick, silky hair. She marveled that she could touch him this way, every way, as he lifted her up and pushed inside her.
He held them close while he moved, their noses almost touching as he stared down at her.