Page 104 of The Serpent Prince

“It can’t be that simple,” Kiran sneered.

“Oh, it isn’t. But that’s all you’re getting.”

Caught up in the conversation, Imani hadn’t noticed her hold on Mateus had loosened, and he took the opportunity to break free, pushing himself forward and slamming his fist against Kiran’s face.

Shocked that Kiran hadn’t moved after the blow, Imani raced to stand next to him, to protect him if needed, and made a point of looking him up and down.

Kiran’s dreadful irises enlarged, and both sparked with a dark, ominous swirling of raging storm clouds. A tremble started deep in her core as his smile turned into something sinister and cunning, pure evil. For a moment, she was able to see beneath his skin, see that he had that other face underneath, his real one—red eyes, and a row of sharp teeth, no lips, no gums—just a maw of razors. Glimpsing inside him, while it only ever lasted seconds, never failed to choke her and pin her with fear.

Seeing the creature inside him continuously begged the question of what Kiran could shift into. She imagined a massive basilisk that could tear through anything it latched in its jaws.

Pushing her behind him again, Imani felt the prince thrust his magic deep into her body, caressing every ounce of her essence. He’d done this before—taken control of her signature—and Imani closed her eyes at the intrusion. A darkness pulled at her, filling her soul and sating the hunger deep within. The aching, the longing she’d been ignoring since the day she’d fed, felt calm. Indeed, Kiran’s power slipped into Imani’s head so easily and slithered inside her, through her, that, in the moment, she was sure this power exchange went both ways.

People rarely had the power to take control of another’s magical signature without a heartmate, and Imani imagined if they did, only a few could wield it properly. It was only now that she realized it required impeccable control, not to mention a wide range of other magical strengths. Only a twelve-mark could do it.

It felt strangely intimate, as if he could read her thoughts.

With a jerk, Kiran took control of the shadows and darkness.

The ground beneath them rumbled with the explosion, knocking Imani off her feet, but Kiran’s body was frozen still, arms flung open, mouth wide in a silent scream. The world stopped at that moment.

As Imani’s dark power took over Kiran’s body, she realized it was pulling him apart at the seams. He couldn’t wield her darkness like this for much longer.

Imani roared in rage for everything taken from her—the magic she hated and loved at the same time, her freedom, her sister, her father. Shadows rippled from Imani’s skin as she stood, pure rage on her inhuman expression. Ripping back control from Kiran, darkness surrounded her, covering her so thoroughly she looked like a wraith.

Kiran narrowed his eyes at her, confused, as another explosion of inky black power blasted through the vicinity, sending Kiran flying one way, Imani the other.

Mateus, too, was on the ground, crawling toward his wand. Imani growled and pointed her own at him.

Imani’s vision went black in an instant. No need for it to build, this power was so much stronger than anything she had ever used before, even inside the slip. The magic blasted out of her, fueled and guided by the darkness she knew she still housed inside her. Shadows flowed from her in a wave, knocking Mateus back.

Even Kiran lost his balance, but Imani’s shadows pulled him upright with a quick tug. His warm magic swelled around her. Her shadows and his own dark magic twisted together, both supporting the other against Mateus’s assault.

Emboldened, Imani stood up and drove herself forward, and Kiran followed, both with wands out.

Her back arched as more power pulsed, and then Imani’s feet were off the ground. Her skin stretched, pulling, power pulsing, and taking over every inch of her. Kiran squeezed her hand tightly, keeping her from moving farther. But Imani snatched it away, letting her shadows take her behind the death angel faster than the wind.

Mateus barely noticed until her shadows wrapped around his neck. The angel stiffened.

Imani hesitated. Could she do this? Could she truly wield this magnificent power she was given to kill a high sentinel? She felt unpracticed at best and, worse—like a monster. Like Ara.

Amidst her swirling thoughts, Imani strode behind him, wand out, with a chance to end his life.

And she took it.

Her shadows drowned his orifices—his mouth, ears, nose, eyes—and exploded into pure darkness, enveloping him in oblivion.

CHAPTER 37

The taste of blood on her tongue reminded her of Malis and how she didn’t hate the coppery tang.

She swallowed hard and cracked open her eyes.

The first thing she saw were splices of golden darkness. Wisps of smoke undulated through the air above her, shrouding parts of the night sky from her view. A blackness covered her sideways vision. Her fingers, covered in more black spider-webbing, touched something soft, and Imani almost jumped until she pulled it closer and realized it was part of her cloak, stained in an inky, sticky substance. Blood. Her palm was soaked where she held it.

With a slow lift, her full hand came into view. Veins blackened up her arms. More of her magic curled around her wrists and hands.

She’d killed him—a death angel, the high sentinel. Looking around, she saw nothing but black blood. He was gone.