Page 106 of The Serpent Prince

It was all too much to take in.

“Is my family even my family? Is my sister my sister?”

“You’re still half-Norn. But what I think, based on what I’ve pieced together, is that your father is someone powerful in one of the Six families. Maybe even the high sentinel of the Eldritch elves himself. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been hidden like you were.”

Imani’s mind didn’t pause to savor the moment of clarity between them. It skipped ahead to the other question without delay.

“Why?”

“Because, with you being a high-bred Eldritch elf, and your doraca marking, you’re a female candidate for the Under’s heir apparent. Unlike in the Mesial realm, it’s not so easy for a potential heir apparent to live unchecked. For the past fifty years, since the king and queen disappeared, Under heir apparent candidates have been hunted and killed by the death angels and their followers looking to regain their power under the old regime.”

Imani couldn’t breathe. “Does this mean my father is still alive?” She grabbed Kiran by the collar of his shirt. “Take me to him.”

He laughed, cold and detached, removing her hands from his shirt. “You think he’d welcome you with open arms? If he is who I think he is, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

Imani gawked at Kiran, unable to comprehend she had a father who was alive and possibly extremely powerful. She must meet him. He would certainly be on her side—a powerful ally in a world where she felt constantly alone.

She continued, “Have you met him? Ara might have. She spoke about my father often. At the time, I thought she meant my adoptive father, but now I don’t think she meant her son.”

“No, I haven’t. But let’s just say I’ve heard that the high sentinel of the Eldritch elves and my father have more in common than not.”

That thought brought on a new rush of nerves Imani didn’t need, but she ignored them. Even though her father had left her, he’d done it to protect her. She was practically begging for Kiran to take her to meet the only family who hadn’t betrayed her.

But then it struck her. “He’d hate me because I’m half-Norn?”

“No, I believe he loved your mother.” He grabbed her face. “But you’d take him by surprise. And your father probably hates surprises. Most people in power do. In fact, I have a feeling all you’ve done since you existed was surprise him.” He paused. “There are many times when I’m in utter awe of you.”

Every part of Imani stilled. Kiran was telling her the truth—she was sure of it. But he’d known this all along and kept it from her.

Her lip curled into a snarl at his pretty words.

She shoved him away. He barely moved.

“What makes you think you can control this horde after you kill the king? Maybe he was lying and control will go to someone else.”

“Now that is a wonderful question, one I would have asked if you hadn’t been so fucking impulsive.”

They came to stand face-to-face, within arm’s length but neither reaching for the other. The strings that joined them wound them ever nearer. Hearts, lips, navels. Closer, still not touching. The air between them was a dead place, as though both of them were carrying their hopelessness before them, hoping for the other to dash it away. It felt like they held everything they had to say—every desperate thing—and didn’t want to say any of it.

“I can’t let you do this, Kiran.” Imani could barely get the words out, but her protective instincts for her home rose to the surface. She couldn’t let him use this horde to destroy Essenheim.

“Are you going to stop me?”

“I’m going to try.” Her shadows began gathering around her shoulders, swirling her hair.

“Your shadows can’t hurt me, my darling,” he murmured, twirling one of the strands of her hair around his finger.

In the next instant, Imani reeled back then slammed her fist into the side of his face, and went invisible.

Shocked, all Kiran did was grab the side of his face, cursing her.

He recovered quickly and pointed his wand at her. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice imbued with a layer of the binding. Her invisibility illusion fell away as that one command demanded a response, and she froze.

Imani’s glare was cold enough to turn rain to snow.

“Back up to the tree.”

Sidestepping a root, she obeyed. Within seconds, her back hit the bark of the tree trunk. The bruises from where the death angel had kicked her smarted.