Page 107 of The Serpent Prince

Kiran stalked forward, wand still pointed at her. He smiled. As usual, there was something off about it. Something not quite natural. He took a few moments just to stare, seeming to think his next words through.

Raising one hand, he wrapped his fingers around her throat—not hard enough to hurt, but enough for her to know that he could, should he wish it.

“Go home to Niflheim. The wyvern should be waiting at the slip now with Esa and Zadie.”

Imani tried to speak, but his hand tightened around her throat, ever so slightly. She pursed her lips, and he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. Their foreheads touched, his timbre almost vulnerable. “I will tell you everything I know about your family when I return, my fearless darling. Now, go. I’ll see you soon.”

Imani shook her head, jaw tight as she said, “No⁠—”

His back was already facing her as he stalked away. An almighty predator on the hunt, Kiran didn’t utter another word before he disappeared into the trees.

CHAPTER 38

It took them more than two days, but they finally stopped at a small village inn where they could get Esa’s injuries healed.

Imani’s thoughts were constantly on Kiran. How much she loathed him permeated the surface of her feelings, but deep down, a tether to him made it impossible to let him go. She still wanted every secret, every betrayal, and craved his wild, unpredictable ways, even when it threatened her life.

It was too overwhelming to think about for too long.

A fear was building inside her, as well. She needed to focus everything on finding the Drasil. Because if he did locate this horde king—and kill him—they would need the power more than ever.

Inside, Imani went to the bathing room and shut the door behind her. She turned the faucet and watched water pour from the pipes and into the smooth basin.

She unstrapped her weapons first then peeled off her clothes, which were caked in sweat and grime from their grueling travels. Blood, too. She examined the rust-red stains in the light of the sinking sun. Lingering for a moment on a particular blotch, her fingers curled into the fabric before setting the clothing aside.

The bath was scalding. Imani hissed as she lowered herself in, hands braced against the tub’s rim. The freshly healed wounds on her back felt fiery. Her whole body was stiff and sore. She held her breath and dipped all the way under. She did not soak for long. Even here in the hidden Drow elf city of Evov, even in the privacy of the suite, bathing left her feeling vulnerable.

The bathing room mirror had fogged. Imani used a fist to wipe it clear then caught sight of herself and wished she had not. There were bruised circles under her blue eyes, a fresh cut on her pale cheek, a new whip mark—raised and dark, not yet scarred—curled over her shoulder, and she looked thinner. Gaunt, even.

Her eyebrows drew in as she examined herself.

Imani startled at a knock.

“Kiran got word from his father,” Zadie said through the door. “Well, Kiran received a letter from the king. We intercepted it.”

“And how did you accomplish that?”

“Ren. He’s the one who’s delivering it.”

Imani whipped around. “Ren is here?” Her stomach dropped, wondering if he’d delivered her message to Tanyl. She debated whether or not to admit that he was working for Tanyl. Or was he? Could Ren be a double agent?

She kept these thoughts to herself.

Zadie continued speaking behind the door. “The king has also made an announcement that’s just now reaching the territories. The letter indicated that Respen apparently intends to move against Magnus—there’s a civil war coming.”

Imani wrapped herself in her robe and cracked the door open. “Do you believe it’s true?”

“I do.” And with the flick of her wrist, Zadie produced another piece of parchment. “Ren had a message for you, as well. From Tanyl.”

The ball of nerves in her stomach tightened. “So, he is a double agent. You know the truth then?”

“That Tanyl asked you to spy on us? Indeed. I expected it. So did Kiran. We did not expect you to decline.” Zadie had read the note—of course, she had.

Imani tried to snatch the letter away, but Zadie held it just out of reach. “You’re getting better at this, but you’re still not good enough.”

“Better at what?” Imani snarled.

Zadie’s face widened into a knowing smirk. “Playing the game.”