Page 70 of The Nymph King

Meira’s should have been impossible. Yet the moment Imani looked at it, the Divination bond between them pulled tight.

The sensation was horribly familiar. For nearly a year, memories, emotions, and fragments of perception had crossed between the sisters without permission. The connection had already proven that whatever touched one of them could reach the other in ways neither fully understood. What she had taken from Meira nearly a year ago, her Divination brand, had created a powerful, unprecedented link.

Now that same bond seemed to run directly through the Crown of Life. The same living magic had somehow expressed itself through two bodies, making Meira’s as real as the roots embedded in Imani’s own skull.

Imani couldn’t tell whether Meira had hidden it beneath a glamour or whether the magic simply revealed itself differently to her. She only knew that the crown in front of her carried the same living presence as her own. The bond gave her access to truths beyond what Meira had shown everyone else.

Tanyl would not have that advantage. His magic encountered Meira from the outside, while Imani’s had been entangled with hers for almost a year. Indeed, the flesh magic Divination spell she’d performed created a connection between them neither could have expected. They shared memories, present perceptions, and…

And now it appeared they shared this magic as well.

She had thought she’d stolen Meira’s power, but in reality, she’d stitched it to her own, and the stitching had gone both ways. The spell had fused the magic, running a continuous Divination connection between them. Perception bled across the bond without warning. Memory surfaced in the wrong mind. Whatever moved through one of them moved, in some measure, through the other.

Meira’s hand went to her mouth for a moment, then fell away as she blinked in disbelief.

“Imani?” The name broke from her in disbelief, relief flooding through her as she took a step forward, still clinging to the bedpost.

Imani held her palm up to stop Meira from coming closer, but then lowered it. “Yes, I’m here.”

Her sister wrung her hands, her body coiled with an urge to move forward that she fought to contain. “Please—get me out of here. I can’t stay like this.”

Esa remained near the door, silent, her presence steady without interrupting the moment. Imani only spared her a brief glance, still unable to stop staring.

“You’re still here,” Imani said, her tone flat. “Locked away while he prepares for a war.”

Her sister’s expression fell, tears filling her eyes. “You think that’s why I’m here?”

She didn’t answer because she could already feel the truth forming through the same connection tightening between them.

Tanyl had secured Meira for use against Imani.

“You took more than you understood with the flesh magic,” Meira continued. “You didn’t just take my Divination.”

“I did it to save your damn life,” Imani snapped.

“Did you?” Meira’s gaze held hers. “Because it doesn’t feel like that’s all you did.”

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me.” Pointing the Drasil at her sister, she felt her cheeks heat. But the threat held no bite. “I did it to save your life,” she repeated, finally lowering the wand.

“And made something else,” Meira replied. “Something neither of us can separate now.”

A charged energy sparked with unspoken understanding that neither felt the need to voice. Imani sensed that if Meira mastered it, they’d share access both ways.

A vulnerability that Imani couldn’t afford right now.

With her head cocked, Imani gave her sister a questioning look. “You’re still here,” she said again. “Which means he hasn’t figured out what you are either. A queen.”

That made sense. Tanyl possessed enormous power through the Drasil and everything he had accumulated around his stolen reign, but none of it made him Essenheim’s true monarch. Meira was stronger. As long as she could sustain the glamour, his magic would accept what she showed him.

Imani had escaped that limitation only because their Divination bond reached beneath the disguise.

A muscle in Meira’s jaw jumped, just slightly. “That doesn’t mean he won’t. My glamour can only last so long without my wand.”

“True,” Imani agreed. “It won’t last forever.”

The implication of this discovery changed everything. A second queen—not a distant possibility or future concern, but something present and unavoidable, connected to her in a way she couldn’t reverse. For a moment, it unsettled her enough to think about killing Meira, and removing the risk before it worsened. Yet, the idea didn’t take hold. It was tempting, but not urgent.

And right now, urgent was the only thing that mattered.