Page 127 of The Serpent Prince

He was wrong.

The thought made it hard to breathe.

Jaw clenched, Imani tugged at her dress, trying to loosen the corset around her belly a bit more. Why hadn’t she taken better care to choose a looser outfit tonight?

For a moment, she thought about going to her room to retrieve Ara’s trunk of old books and her clothes. But she decided against it. Imani didn’t need any of the books, or maps, or dresses anymore. With this wand, she had everything she required.

Her hands shook from what she was about to do, and Imani fought tears as she ignored the strange twist in her gut at the thought of leaving Kiran. The feelings were intense, but they were lies, too. She didn’t need Kiran in her life—she just felt like she did. She’d never be enslaved like those High-Bred Norn elves from the past.

Her grandmother’s words echoed in her mind.

“What that heartmate of yours doesn’t know yet, and it might take him a while to realize, is that you’ll be the only thing that truly scares him. A weakness if you can’t be controlled.”

On the night of her death, Ara had chosen to warn her. Worse—she had been right. She’d always been right. Imani wished she had paid more attention and listened to Ara instead of following her stupid heart. Despite their contentious relationship, Imani was starting to understand Ara far better than before, and many of her actions and choices made sense to Imani.

The incantations were old but in Elvish, and she’d practiced them repeatedly over the past week in preparation for this exact spell.

Much to her surprise, it only took a few minutes to cast. Before she knew it, light was flickering in and out of the wand, and she took a few deep breaths, preparing herself. No one had cast this spell in possibly thousands of years. Maybe more.

On her exhale, she raised the Drasil in a long, slow arch over her head, feeling the power vibrating through her limbs. She muttered the old incantation, working hard to enunciate perfectly. She swept her arm again in an arch, and this time a faint light trailed the line of her wand. Again and again, she arched her wand and repeated the words.

The space on a wall began to glimmer like a curtain, shimmering repeatedly until a soft pine forest floor could be seen. The more she did it, the more the doorway she was creating solidified and the more it revealed what lay behind it.

At the final swipe, Imani had to take two hands to drag the wand up and around. A faint buzzing could be heard now, and with a grunt of pain, she completed the arch and dropped her shaking arms to her sides.

The humming in the room increased.

She wrenched her wand arm up at the last second, and one shot of bright light flashed around her. Imani flinched, hiding her face with her other arm.

Blinking away the stars, she regained focus … and her mouth dropped open.

Standing several feet taller and wider than her was a glowing, ethereal doorway, and past it, the Draswood Forest.

When she’d asked the spell to take her home, it’d made the Draswood appear.

She shut her eyes. It was time to return to where she belonged.

But before she could, a loud banging forced her to whip around.

CHAPTER 46

The king’s chest heaved as he ripped open the doors to the throne room, gaze riveted on the doorway she’d created, but he otherwise kept his reaction impassive.

“Imani, what have you done?” he whispered through clenched teeth, taking slow steps forward. He could not tear his eyes away from the swirling, crackling doorway Imani had opened against the wall.

“You’re not the only one with secrets,” she replied with a sneer, moving to stand with her back to the doorway, facing him as he approached. The monstrosity of magic behind her devoured and crunched sections of wall, the sound of stone cracking so loudly it made her ears ache. Without practice, this was a rudimentary doorway, at best. Imani knew it wouldn’t last long before collapsing in on itself, and she didn’t want to be anywhere near it if that happened.

Kiran came to stand only a mere foot from her, scanning her like he thought she was injured. “Something is different about you. Your magic is different.”

“We are too similar,” she whispered, “and I let myself … Gods, I can’t even say it out loud.” Her voice cracked, and her eyes pricked. She shut them tight to keep from crying.

“I’m the Niflheim king, Imani … Let me help you, with whatever this is.” His eyes were stark, begging, but still a horror.

Imani didn’t think she would ever not be somewhat afraid of Kiran. There would always be that slight tinge of terror at how dangerous he was and how monstrous he could get to ensure his goals were met. She knew he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted—those shackles had proven that much. She wished so badly he’d chosen a different path. One that included working with her instead of against her.

But maybe it was all he knew.

“Oh, now you want to help me? And it’s because you’re the Niflheim king that I can’t accept your help. I see that now.”