Page 18 of The Serpent Prince

“You belonged to the Niflheim king the moment you agreed to the binding and stepped foot in Niflheim. Now, as I said, I don’t know what he plans to do with you. But he’s going to want you—immediately—and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’ve thought of every angle, and this is inevitable.”

“He can’t make me have sex with anyone.”

“You’re not in Essenheim anymore, and things are about to get a lot more complicated for you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Imani’s brow furrowed in confusion at his apology, but she didn’t know what to say anymore. So, she said nothing.

“You need to go without any illusion magic when you meet,” he continued.

“Will he be able to sense the echo shield magic as monarch?”

“No. No, I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.”

“What about my red brands and scarring?”

“Like I said, the echo shield should keep those undetected, if you so choose. But he’s familiar with soul draws and will expect you to have one. Let him feel the pull to prove your high-bred status, but keep the full force of your magic hidden. If he knows about your powerful magic … if he finds out you’re an eight-mark … he’ll want far more from you than you’d be interested in. And trust me; he’ll already be very interested in you. “

There was that hunger in Kiran’s eyes again, that desire.

She hated it, and her lips curled in disgust. “So I’m to be used by both of you. Your father will parade me around like a beautiful little pet, but tell me, Kiran: what do you plan to use me for?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. But if I didn’t need a high-bred female Norn, you’d hardly be worth the trouble to bring here. I’ll protect you from him as best I can, and that means keeping your Under magic hidden from him as much as possible.”

“Right. Because you need a sacrificial lamb.” Crossing her arms, she glared at him. “Will you ever tell me why it needs to be one of my kind?”

“I expect you’ll learn that answer along with a dozen others when the time is right.” He sighed and turned his attention out the window. “In the meantime, before then, you’ll train with one of my master witches to learn about your illicit shadow magic.”

“I thought no one here had red brands.”

“The witch I have in mind can handle it.”

“Zadie.”

Kiran nodded once, not surprised Imani knew the name of the witch he’d referenced earlier.

“Are any of the other witches training? Feels like I should be assigned work like the rest of them.”

“The rest of them are master witches, and you’re not.” He shrugged. “You failed to complete the final task. If you want one, you’ll need to take the assessments all over again. We have the same laws as Essenheim in that regard.”

Frustration burned through her, especially since she could have won that third assessment if it wasn’t for him, but the fact still remained—she was not a master witch.

Imani shut her mouth and forced her attention away from the insufferable elf prince, to the window, through which she stared.

Through the lingering fog and misty rain, Imani could just make out the city walls hewn from a strange, obsidian stone that shot up farther than she could see. They appeared black, as if a wall of fire and melted stone had grown to a dizzying height then froze in time.

Chills raced down her spine, and she was suddenly unbearably cold. She resisted the urge to breathe warmth into her hands or turn to Kiran for help. He was not her friend, and he certainly wasn’t her protector. He was exactly what everyone had claimed—the worst of the six Niflheim princes—and aside from Saevel she hadn’t even met the rest of the bastards.

Imani crossed her arms and looked out the window, trying to calm her frustrations again. She had never despised her breed so much as she did right then. To always be a target, always someone people desired for their own selfish reasons, even her family, was untenable. She couldn’t do this forever.

A burning fervor roiled inside her—a desperate need. She needed the Drasil. With it, her enemies couldn’t even try—she’d crush them. Without it, her weakness would eventually be a death sentence.

“If you keep taking away my choices, I’m not sure how much more of this I’ll be able to stand,” Imani said, changing tactics. “This isn’t the way to get my cooperation.”

“And why would I want that when I can just demand what I want? Tell me: why should I offer you incentives over threats?”

“Because I would fight you less.”

Kiran threw his head back and laughed. The laugh of a madman, one set on the promise of blood. A threatening sound.