Page 52 of The Serpent Prince

They lay together for what felt like hours.

Imani woke up at dawn to Kiran brushing her hair away from her face. He stood from the bed. She rubbed and slanted her eyes at him, watching him dress in silence.

When he looked up at her with that perfect curl of his lips, his dark hair ruffled, he looked exactly how he should. She liked him this way—looking down at her, imperfect, himself completely.

There was an odd feeling in her chest, a slight tugging or gnawing, or a peculiar combination of the two. At first, Imani thought it was panic fluttering against her ribs, fear over what had transpired between them, but that wasn’t quite right.

The feeling was slowly pooling out, traveling from her heart like a meandering stream along the underside of her arm.

She tried to brush off the sensation, but the longer he held her gaze, the more the feeling increased. His eyes and their color had to be causing it. Such a strange, stunning, verdant hue paired with an unyielding black. One could imagine all sorts of things while staring into those mismatched eyes.

“Did you ever think you’d sink this low?” Imani rasped to break the tension. She turned and slowly slid to the edge of the bed to stand and slip her robe on.

“Don’t flatter yourself. This is nowhere near my lowest,” he said matter-of-factly, grabbing his shirt and slipping it on.

“Really?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism from her voice.

“We all do what we need to, to survive. I did countless things I never thought I would do,” he admitted freely without an ounce of shame.

She supposed that was true. This was also far from her lowest point.

“When will I see you again?” She tried to keep the hope from her voice.

Imani watched in silence as he dressed, daring him to answer her. The prince ignored her question.

“I like this look on you.” Kiran gestured idly at her untamed hair, tumbling around her shoulders in waves, and her naked body under the robe she hadn’t bothered to tie. He stepped toward her, his movements smooth and predatory, and threaded his hands through her hair, holding her head up. His voice dipped low, turning into a purr. “And knowing I’m responsible for it.”

She pulled away to hide her blush from him.

He reached up and twisted a strand of hair around his finger. Then he ran a hand up the side of her bare waist. “Make sure you’re ready in the morning with the other witches. Don’t expect any special treatment from me,” he said, voice flat.

Then, just like that, he left.

There were no apologies in his wake, no promises waiting to be broken, or hope left to hold onto.

CHAPTER 19

Imani wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to get used to Niflheim mornings, but they were not bright and fresh like Essenheim’s. The horizon still bled black every day, and blades of the same dull light cut across the entrance to the Drow elves’ city, casting other parts in deep shadow.

There was nothing cheery about it—it was a grave. It matched her mood perfectly after her last encounter with Kiran.

The city lay below, in a valley at the foot of a mountain, cut by the shadow of moonlight that slipped between the great mass of a storm growing above. A clearing looked like a path. This early in the morning especially, the settlement below was muted enough to lose its sense of scale. Yet, if you squinted, the main boulevard became a lane of light you might walk straight across, all the way into Mount Kehemol and beyond.

Despite her despondence at Kiran’s abrupt departure the other night, she felt excited to be visiting the Drow elves. What lay beyond that path into the mountain? It was so large she knew it would take days of tunneling to reach the capital on the other side … but the cave-dwelling Drows might have a way.

It had been a few days since she’d seen Kiran—that bastard—and while she was curious about his whereabouts, she had never felt physically better. Revitalized, she was ready to take on the world. If the Drow elves had a library, she was going to find it and search every inch.

How forthcoming would the Drow elves be about their cavernous city? Imani wondered as she smoothed out the folds of her dress and straightened her cloak. Her dark violet dress was made of thick material and caused her silver hair and freckles to shine, even in the low light. The velvet dress kept her warm against the chill of the mountain air. She tugged the sleeves down farther to her wrists. Her red sigils were hidden, but Imani couldn’t help feeling worried.

Esa fell into step beside her. “I’m to escort you to the greeting party, little elf.”

Snapping her head to stare up at her green eyes, Imani curled her lip in disgust. “Never call me that,” she spat.

“You might want to reel that attitude and magic in a bit, Imani,” the pixie said, darting her eyes around.

Imani shot her a glare. “This is who I am. Everyone else can keep themselves in check.”

“Someone is in a mood today,” Esa huffed.