Page 126 of The Nymph King

One of the oldest nobles dropped to his knees before Saevel. Others followed, one after another, lowering themselves in sequence as acceptance took hold, while a few Niflheim courtiers remained standing, refusing to yield, their loyalty anchoring them despite everything they had witnessed. The Essenheim delegation held firm behind Saevel, offering no interference.

Guards divided next, with some stepping uncertainly toward Kiran while others backed away from him entirely, as if proximity alone carried risk.

“Stand down,” Kiran said to the guards, the command clear and absolute. But no one moved as the idea of him as king broke under what they had all seen.

Kiran returned to Imani’s side, despite her protests and everything falling apart around him. Blood marked his body, and his breath came unevenly.

“Imani… I love you,” he said, the words raw, stripped of everything he had used to shield himself before. He lowered himself to the ground, kneeling in front of her as if no one else watched, as if the cost meant nothing. “I’m sorry. For all of it. I was wrong.” He dropped further, abandoning the last of his pride as his hand lifted again, stopping short of touching her this time. “Help me,” he said through gritted teeth, each word forced through what remained of him. “Don’t let them take everything from me. Not like this. Not when you’re right here.”

A slow, knowing smile curved across her mouth as she stared into those wild, mismatched eyes. “It’s too late for those pretty words,” she purred. “You built this without me. Now you can watch it fall without me.”

“Seize him,” Saevel ordered.

Imani jerked back and glanced up at Saevel. “Essenheim stands with you,” she said. “End this. Hunt him down and kill him.” Guards marched forward at once, drawing their wands. Kiran glared, snapping his wand out and angling his body away from the center as the outcome became undeniable.

With a sudden surge, the black-and-red scaled dragon at Kiran’s side lunged, its enormous mass crashing between him and the guards. The creature rose on its hind legs, unfurling its wings as its throat heated, ready to incinerate all in its path.

Still, the guards—and Esa and Lore beside her—pummeled Kiran in uneven waves of magic, the push toward him growing despite the beast’s threat.

“Out,” Saevel ordered as Kiran’s dragon’s maw opened. “Clear the chamber.” Panic followed, people scrambling for the exits.

Through the crush of bodies, Imani tracked Kiran. He broke for the window and drove through it without slowing, stone and glass exploding outward. Before he cleared the frame, his form shifted, reforming mid-fall. Wings tore free in a violent transformation, and he took flight in his dragon form, black against the stormy Niflheim sky.

A deafening roar tore through the chamber as Kiran’s pet dragon also surged forward. Fire poured from its throat, striking the wall where Kiran had escaped. The blast cracked the structure until chunks fell away, widening the opening enough for its body to follow. Claws tore at the remaining stone as it launched after Kiran into the open air, giving chase.

Imani looked around the room, trying to catch her breath. Shouts rang out, and magic still rebounded off the walls. She crouched to dodge an errant spell, then ran to the gaping hole in the wall and stared outside. Blood spurted from Kiran’s back, the trail stretching farther with every beat of his wings, distance growing between him and the palace.

Her head bowed, and she reached behind her, where she’d stashed her wand in her waistband. The Drasil pulsed in her hand as she pulled it out, and contemplated what she’d just done.

Kiran had been annoyed with her before. Frustrated.

But now?

He would be back, and next time, he would try to kill her for the betrayal.

CHAPTER 40

Dark blood spread across the floor, and crumbled stone lay strewn where magic had struck. Broken glass littered the chamber, and the wall stood torn open where he had forced Kiran’s escape, its edges scorched.

As Imani stared into the gaping hole in the late-evening sky, she knew the man who’d wrought such destruction was already flying far beyond Kehemol.

Pain pressed through her body as she rubbed the back of her neck, blood still seeping beneath her clothes. Kiran had healed enough of the wound to keep it from killing her, sealing the most serious damage and slowing the blood loss before Saevel drove him away. But torn flesh still burned across her chest beneath her clothes, and the remaining damage pulled whenever she breathed too deeply, lifted her arm, or twisted her torso, leaving her mobile but far from whole.

She nibbled her cheek, wondering where Kiran would lick his wounds.

To her right, Saevel sat unmoving on the Throne, magic surging through him in pulses. Some remained with their heads bowed, or even kneeling.

A High Sentinel came forward from the Niflheim ranks, his voice carrying through the chamber as he raised it for all to hear. “By blood, by right, and by the will of the Throne, Saevel Illithiana of Niflheim stands as your king,” he declared.

All voices fell silent, replaced by the sounds of bodies hitting the stone floor in surrender. The High Sentinels who had initially stood by Kiran now knelt, bowing their heads, probably hoping for mercy from the monarch.

Imani remained standing, though, along with Meira. She worked her jaw back and forth, on edge despite getting everything she wanted.

Niflheim had a new king, its true monarch. And he had his heartmate next to him.

She wasn’t sure what that made her, and a pang of worry twisted in her stomach as she imagined the Essenheim people turning against her in favor of Meira.

Her sister stood at Saevel’s side, close to him, his body angled to shield her, his presence marking her as his in front of the entire room.