Page 106 of The Nymph King

Imani had always known she wanted more. And now, with Essenheim under her rule and the Drasil in her hand, she wanted it all. She wanted the entire realm. Because that was the only way the Fabric’s magic would truly be fixed. Without it… Without her magic… she would be nothing again.

The thought was a cold, hard conclusion. Essenheim was one piece. Niflheim was another. The Fabric governing them both was vast, and its current weakness left room for something entirely new to take root. Ambition was part of it, but fixing the Fabric had always sat in the back of her mind like a sickness she couldn’t cure.

A unified rule meant she would be free to make the laws and changes needed to keep the Fabric whole.

But only if someone stabilized the Fabric, either with the strength to realign magic or the will to enforce it. The once abstract monumental goal she shared with the Drasil now felt urgent and immediate, essential to everything that needed to happen next.

Imani touched the scab forming on the cut in her palm, then looked at the rest of the blood-darkened strand of hair still lying in the dish.

All of those ambitions could wait. Meira could not.

Saevel’s existence had just changed the problem waiting inside Imani’s own palace. Her sister was no longer merely a prisoner carrying a second Crown of Life and an old betrayal between them. She was now magically bound to the brother Kiran had hoped to hide from the world, and possibly to a man whose claim could be used against him. Because Saevel was alive. If not, Kiran risked his entire kingdom.

Imani needed to know what Meira knew, whether she had ever felt the bond herself, and whether she would cooperate once Saevel’s name was placed in front of her. More importantly, Imani needed to decide how much freedom she was willing to give the sister she still could not trust in order to reach the man who might help dismantle Kiran’s rule.

She left the chamber without looking back, prepared to confront her sister about all the unspoken truths between them and what was about to happen next.

CHAPTER 31

The spell still murmured inside Imani’s head, its truth burrowing deeper as she navigated the empty palace corridors alone.

She paused outside Meira’s door. Her hand hovered near the wood, not yet lifting to knock, as she weighed the coming confrontation. She had to decide how much to reveal, how much to withhold—where to apply pressure, and where to let silence do the bleeding. Emotion had no place here, not if she intended to walk away with her control intact. She wanted to grieve the relationship she and Meira had before, but her sister was a variable. A dangerous one Imani would never underestimate again.

Squaring her shoulders, she repeated the plan in her head, saying the words she’d wanted to say to Meira for months. The Six Saints would not bless this reunion. It would be far more honest, and far less forgiving.

After her shadows unlocked the door, the latch turned under her hand. She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, moving with enough cold purpose to strip away any pretense of courtesy.

Meira whipped her head up and tensed, as if she understood the intrusion as a command rather than a visit. The faint hope Imani saw in her eyes faded away into a heavy, suffocating silence as she closed the door.

There was no room for pleasantries. Imani crossed her arms, wand in hand. “You’re still a prisoner,” she said calmly. Meira straightened, but Imani continued. “Nothing has changed except what I plan to do with you.” She kept her sister’s gaze without blinking. “I know who your heartmate is.”

The implication hung heavy in the air, but only the quick rise and fall of Meira’s chest betrayed any response.

“And that makes you lucky.”

Meira opened her mouth to speak, but Imani lifted her hand to cut her off.

“It also makes you useful,” she added. “Because of him, you’re coming with us to Niflheim.”

“That’s not funny,” Meira snapped. It sounded more like a warning than a protest as anger cut through her fear. “You don’t get to invent such a fact just to prove a point. If you’re trying to manipulate me, you picked the wrong lie.”

Imani saw exactly where the suspicion came from. Meira knew that Imani remembered the betrayal in every detail: her sister turning her in, choosing the law over her, and helping put Imani into the hands of the Queen, who might have killed her if she hadn’t gotten away in time. Since Imani took the monarchy from Tanyl, she had kept her imprisoned as he had and made no secret of the fact that forgiveness was nowhere near reach.

Worse, Meira had wanted a heartmate for as long as Imani could remember. She had spoken about finding one when they were girls, building an entire imagined future around the certainty that someone existed for her. Especially after their parents had died. If Imani wanted revenge, few lies were crueler than handing Meira the one thing she had always wanted and waiting for her to believe it.

A humorless smile curled around Imani’s mouth. “If I were designing a way to keep you here, I’d pick a lie that would trap you—locked away.” Her tone was gentle, but that made the words feel harsher. She didn’t hurriedly explain or soften her statement. Instead, she let the silence linger, maintaining eye contact with total confidence, letting the strength of her certainty break down her sister’s defenses.

Meira swallowed hard as disbelief gave way to a frantic urgency in her magic signature. “If this is real,” she blurted, stepping forward, fists clenched and breath fraying, “then tell me who he is. What is he like? Is he—is he an elf?”

Raw desperation radiated from her wide, pleading eyes. Imani knew exactly how deeply her sister hungered for this bond.

She allowed the tension to linger briefly before speaking again. “It isn’t guesswork,” Imani said calmly. “Divination is powerful, and if you have the right piece—hair, blood, or anything connected to the person—it reveals an answer. The same way, every time.” She fixed Meira with her unwavering gaze. “I tested it once, then again to be sure. Your heartmate is Saevel.” She paused for a moment. “Kiran’s brother.”

Meira’s mouth fell open. As her chest heaved, the breath seemed entirely knocked out of her.

Suspicion flooded back, draining the light from her face. She stepped back, shaking her head. “No,” she said, her voice sharpening with defensive hurt. “No, you don’t get to do this to me. You think you can say something like that and I’ll just believe you? This is revenge, isn’t it? For turning you in. You know what this means to me. You know you could make me believe almost anything if you put a heartmate at the end of it.” She let out a bitter, jagged exhale. “You don’t care about the truth. You just want to watch me fall for it.”

Without a word, Imani crossed to the hearth, where the fire burned. She drew a small slip of parchment from her sleeve, the incantation’s neat script catching the dim light. With her wand, she traced a narrow circle in the air before the flames, her movements precise enough to shape the magic.