Page 79 of The Nymph King

“And you agreed to something.”

“Stop.”

“What did you promise them?”

“I-I…” he trailed off, and the panic told her more than the answer would have. Whatever bargain had placed the Drasil in his hand, Tanyl feared it. Imani filed that knowledge away.

Tanyl tried one final burst of light magic, but the spell barely formed before her shadows swallowed it.

Imani released his wrist and lifted the Drasil, commanding her shadows forward.

Darkness hit him from every direction, and he lifted off the floor. Then, the force drove him backward across the ballroom until his body slammed into the wall hard enough to shake the sconces. Air tore from his lungs, and her shadows followed. They bound his arms, pinned his shoulders, wrapped around his waist, and dragged him downward.

His knees struck stone.

Tanyl gasped, and it echoed across the silent ballroom. Imani darted a glance around at the open-mouthed nobles. No one rushed to help him. She had defeated him in front of the people whose obedience had made him king, and now they were choosing not to save him.

The light that had filled the room seconds earlier had disappeared, leaving a pale Tanyl panting in the stark dimness.

Imani approached carefully. Her shoulder bled. Her skull throbbed. Every breath pulled against bruised ribs, and using the Drasil again sent pain through her hand and forearm.

Good.

Let them see it. Let them understand she hadn’t won because victory had been handed to her. She had been surprised and overpowered, yes, but she had adapted.

Maybe she was too arrogant, but that was better than being weak.

No one would ever control her again.

Tanyl remained pinned to the floor, stripped of his false crown, authority, and pride. Imani stopped before him and pointed the Drasil at his forehead.

“You spent your entire reign trying to prove you were enough,” she said.

His breathing stuttered as he stared up at her wicked grin.

“You should have stopped asking everyone else to believe it.”

CHAPTER 23

As she aimed her wand at his head, Tanyl unraveled.

His body betrayed him in small ways—a tremor through his hands, a tightening in his jaw as he fought to contain it, to keep even a shred of control in front of everyone watching. The shadows climbed up the walls, leaving nowhere to hide the truth of what he had become.

He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the silence, his composure finally breaking. “Wait—” His voice cracked, weak and uneven, nothing like the command it had been moments ago. He tried again, forcing the words out, but the authority was gone, replaced entirely by fear. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Coward,” Imani said. “This is treason.”

“Imani—wait,” he said, voice growing more frantic, the Drasil lowering slightly in his grip. “You don’t need to do this. We can still—” He cut himself off, recalculating, breath uneven now. “I can make this right.”

“It’s too late,” she replied, not moving.

His jaw flexed, composure slipping further as he tried again. “You think you’re the only one fighting for something?” he pressed, desperation clear on his face. “I did what I had to do.”

“You tried to capture me,” she said.

“I tried to survive,” he snapped back, then caught himself, dragging a hand through his hair as he stepped closer. “Listen to me. If you kill me, you lose everything I know. The Drasil, the Upper Deities, the terms of the bargain—” His voice dropped, urgency bleeding into it. “You don’t understand what you’re walking into.”

“I don’t need to understand all of it.”