Page 105 of The Serpent Prince

A shadow, not her own, stood above her.

Kiran. And he looked furious.

His anger didn’t seem to come from a place of regret at missing a cruel opportunity to torture the death angel. It seemed to be pointed at her, and her mouth fell open in shock.

All Imani could do was look around, confused. Was he …? Was he angry that she’d killed the angel? She had just saved their damn lives.

“Killing him when we had the chance was our only choice,” she said, pushing herself to stand. “You should’ve done it the second he gave you the answers you sought.”

“Maybe you’re right. I should have.” The gleam in his eyes transformed to a deep, heated rage.

A shiver lanced down Imani’s back; she could practically taste the violence misting off him. As though the Mad Prince was enraged that Imani would even suggest such a thing. He threatened her in one breath then looked at her like he’d tear out the throat of anyone who came close. It infuriated her.

“How dare you question my actions? Esa is bleeding out by the slip, and you got what you needed.”

“I could’ve gotten more out of him,” he snapped.

“About how to take control of the horde?” Imani didn’t even know what that was, but she threw it back in his face, anyway.

“Yes. And I’m going in practically blind without more details from him.”

“What is this horde?” Imani wanted to calm him down, distract him.

Kiran grinned. It was all poison and knives. “Every single breedless beast and animal without a sigil in the Under is part of the horde.”

“And this horde king controls them?”

“He is the horde.”

The magnitude of what Kiran intended to do hit her hard.

“You want to take this horde army for yourself and use them to take over Essenheim,” she whispered.

“Indeed. I intend to bring them right to my father’s doorstep for him.”

With this horde, the Niflheim army would be unstoppable.

“What does this have to do with me?”

Kiran hesitated. “I want to be honest with you,” he murmured.

“Then be honest with me.” She couldn’t hide the frustration that bled through.

Kiran grabbed her wrist and tugged up her sleeve. All her brands were on display. He pointed to the red ones—all of them. “He asked me to bring a female high-bred Eldritch elf who wields doraca magic to him. They are exceedingly rare—rarer than a High-Bred Norn.”

“What? Why?” Imani whispered.

“Because any high-bred Eldritch elf descends from one of the Six, and at least one Under monarch has always ruled with doraca magic.” He ran his fingers over her heartmate markings. “Unlike our realm, where the high sentinels counsel the monarch, the Six are noble families who govern the Under beneath the monarchs. They’re the descendants of the Six Saints.”

“The angels that fell from the Upper realms?”

“Ah, so you’re familiar with the story?”

She shrugged. “Everyone is familiar with the Saints, the angels of the Upper realm who created the Mesial realm and death itself.”

“Yes, they created mortal life and, without knowing it, also created death, causing the Under to burst into an uncontrolled existence. Neither realm was one the Upper could control, so they cast out the Six and forced them to rule the Under. And the mortals revered them for creating their life, but since the First Realm War sealed the doorways, the Under has since become a place to be feared. Something which the Upper is loath to correct with more and more mortals worshiping the golden angel and deity breeds above.”

Imani remembered the zealots who advocated for banishing magic. That was what the Upper would want … it would be easier to control the Mesial realm if no one possessed any magic.