Page 125 of The Serpent Prince

His grip loosened enough, and Imani pulled her wrist back, cradling it against her chest. It throbbed.

He reached for her again, but she pushed past him.

“Well, it’s inconvenient for me,” she hissed. “I thought I could believe in you—be your partner—but I want nothing to do with you anymore. I can’t trust you. In fact, I can’t even stand the sight of you.”

Before she reached the door, he stalked forward, grabbed her shoulders, turned her around, then slapped her across the face. Imani gasped, so surprised that she didn’t even reach up to put her hand over her stinging cheek.

“Wake up, Imani. I am the Niflheim king,” Kiran said, voice low and deadly as he pushed off the wall. “Do you think I’m going to beg for your company and respect? I don’t need either of them. Your fear will do. Bow.”

Eyes watering, Imani stared him down. She kept her face impassive, not wanting to show how much fear coursed through her veins at the wild look of malice on his face. She shoved it aside.

He was getting desperate, using his compulsion from the binding over her.

But it was gone now, and it made her chuckle darkly. “Never,” she replied, baring her teeth.

“You forget the order of things. You work for me. I own you.” Kiran lifted his hand. “Do I need to remind you that you’re stuck here, with no one to turn to?”

A distant roaring sounded in her head, suspicion and terror twined into one. The binding was broken now that she had the Drasil—she couldn’t feel a thing.

Her voice was low with a bite as she said, “Days ago, you said you wanted me to trust you. This isn’t the way to do it.”

“And for months, you’ve been saying you’ll never trust me, so why should I keep on trying?”

“I … could have considered it, but you keep taking away my choice—and I hate you for it.”

“You already hated me, so that more or less has no meaning.” A slight smirk curved his lips as he skimmed his hands down her bare arms, making her shiver. “Besides, I did give you a choice. It’s not my fault you’re picking the high road over being with me.”

“Were you serious when you said you’d consider us being together ‘if and when things are different’? I fucking doubt it.”

“I did, and I decided against it after I became king. You may not like my reasons or understand them, but they are valid, nonetheless.”

“Then explain it to me, Your Majesty,” she sneered, still holding her wrist tight to her chest. Why was she still trifling with him? How had she not learned her lesson? Really, she only had herself to blame, but she needed to pour salt on the wound between them. Needed to know things were well and truly over.

“I’m mated to my kingdom, and it will always come first. Which means, despite completing the bindings with me, and being my heartmate through and through, you and I can never be. Any political advantage you can offer me is weak at best, or a liability at worst. I need to marry a noble Niflheim elf, not some nobody, an Essenheim orphan elf. Get it?”

She got it, and she’d been such a fool … a fool in love. Ara had told her explicitly that he’d feel this way. Imani just had yet to fully comprehend the weight of the warning.

“I wish I had never met you.”

“Well, the feeling is starting to become mutual, I assure you,” he said, retrieving a shirt with a salacious grin.

As Kiran slipped it over his head, Imani slammed him against the wall, pushing her lips against his. But he grabbed her by the throat, growling loudly. Imani didn’t make a sound.

He pushed against her throat harder with one hand and shoved his other fingers against the sore flesh on her wrist to steal a cry from her lips before he chuckled.

Imani hesitated, still seething.

He shook his head at her, grinning. “Aren’t you a little monster?” he said, almost to himself.

Damn him. She was done here.

She shoved off him, and he let her walk away. She grabbed her cloak from where she’d dropped it on the floor then made to leave. But he caught her wrist.

“Let us be monsters together. What is wrong with being a monster, Imani? Nothing, as far as I can tell. Because, look at you …” He gently pushed her back so his hands could cradle her cheek in his palm, smiling down at her with nothing but tender affection. “You are so mesmerizing. Don’t go.”

“Don’t you dare touch me.” Imani threw his hand off. “You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

He claimed he owned her, but no one owned her anymore. She had been bound to the First Witch—and the king—and neither of those people existed anymore. Not only that, but she’d completed her binding to travel to the Under with him. There was nothing he could do to keep her here. She belonged to herself now.