Page 64 of The Serpent Prince

She blinked a few times before replying, “Yes, I do.”

“These fascinating shadows wouldn’t have anything to do with the red brand and sigil you possess, would they?”

Surprise threatened to widen her eyes, but Imani kept them blank. What a stupid question. The arrogant Norn elf already knew the answer. She must have seen them the night she’d walked in on Kiran and Imani.

“I heard you were quite upset by the labor camp nearby. Such a big caring heart you have.” Ayla smirked. “I’m sure you’d be just as interested in knowing that the king doesn’t throw every witch into a camp. Some of them, he keeps for himself—experimenting on them, leveraging their magic for his own use.”

“I thought Magnus hated magic.”

“He does, but he sees some of its value. After all, he’s a witch himself. It’s petty magic he detests.” Ayla paused. “I daresay he would find your brand quite fascinating. Fascinating enough to want to see what you could do for him. I must warn you, though, those witches usually end up in chains. Especially ones who’ve lied to him.”

“He could try,” Imani snarled. Her shadows would devour him whole if he thought chains would keep her controlled.

Ayla tsked. “Such a silly girl. You cannot take on the king.”

Oh, she thought she knew Imani. This woman thought wrong.

“Now, knowing that,” Ayla continued, “I have a proposition for you.”

“What could that be?” Imani said through gritted teeth.

“I keep my mouth shut about your red brand and sigil around the king—after all, he would be so disappointed you’re not the Norn elf you claim to be.”

“What do I do for you in exchange?” Imani asked out of curiosity. She had absolutely no intention of getting trapped in a deal with Ayla. Hopefully, someday, people would learn that making deals with her or imposing threats didn’t end well for them.

The other Norn elf stalked closer and grabbed Imani by the cloak so fast she barely registered what was happening. Ayla shook Imani’s shoulders, and her lip curled in disgust. “I want you to stay away from Kiran. You’re never sleeping with him again. In fact, you won’t even talk to him. Your mouth won’t even be in the same room with him if I can help it.”

Imani was pretty sure Kiran enjoyed feeding from her just as much as she did and would most certainly demand it. But she didn’t point this out to the elf.

“Ayla,” Imani said, feeling the name roll over the edge of her tongue. “Foolish, stupid Ayla.”

But the bitch laughed, clearly underestimating Imani. While most Norn women were petite, Imani’s size was quite small even for her breed, but that didn’t mean she should be underestimated.

This woman was an idiot, for sure.

Ayla shoved her backward. Imani used her shadows to catch herself easily and strode forward, grabbing the other elf like she’d grabbed Imani. Imani’s nostrils flared. Smoke and a peppered smell hit her.

“Were you with him recently?” Imani whispered. She swallowed, hating the tightening in her stomach at the idea of Kiran wanting anyone else. Imani might not be in love with him, but she didn’t want him with anyone else, either. It was selfish and pathetic, but it was how she felt.

“Yes,” Ayla hissed. “He still readily comes to my bed, clearly not getting enough from you.”

Something ancient rattled Imani’s bones. The kind of feeling that good people didn’t feel. The kind of thing her sister would probably never feel or at least act on, despite her recent ruthlessness.

If the other elf wanted to test her, so be it. A thrill went through Imani at the thought.

Imani put her face right up to Ayla’s, their noses almost touching. “You’re lying. And it’s pissing me off.” The scent wasn’t enough to suggest they’d slept together. Maybe they’d been in the same room. Maybe Ayla had tried to touch him, and even though he said he reserved the right, Kiran had not had sex with this woman recently.

“The king will protect me—after all, I’m getting him the passcodes to the Vathis city gates from my mother.”

“And how are you possibly doing that?”

“My mother is First Healer to Ellisar,” she said with her nose upturned.

Imani flipped her wand out, letting it roll over her fingers, and wrapped her shadows around Ayla’s throat. “You’re even more of a traitor than I expected.”

No matter what she turned into, Imani could never imagine handing the Draswood over to Magnus. He’d raze the trees to the ground, and Imani would rather die than see her beautiful, magical home destroyed in such a way.

Eventually, Imani glared and let go, flipping her wand in her hand again, trying to decide what to do with this elf.