Page 40 of The Serpent Prince

“My lady, I’ve packed your clothes for tomorrow and brought you some food. Let me know if there is anything else I can get you this evening,” she said.

The shifter continued to stare boldly at Imani, and for a moment, it looked like her maid might say something. But as a well-trained staff member of the palace, Rosalynn knew when to keep her mouth shut. She bowed, said good night to Imani, then scurried away.

When they were alone again, Imani didn’t bother to greet the shifter. Instead, she stepped inside her room and merely waved for him to come in.

She heard him follow behind, obeying, his work boots stomping loudly compared to her heeled ones.

“I’m here to collect the intelligence you’ve gathered and relay it to the prin—I mean king,” he announced.

Imani sized him up. He was younger than she’d expected, with a face that didn’t look a day over eighteen. And he was nervous. Unlike her, this mattered to him. Tanyl must have him by the balls for him to risk something so dangerous here.

“Well, that’s nice.” She undid her braid and began brushing out the tangles. “But I’m not saying anything until you give me something.”

“The king has made it clear how displeased he’ll be if I bring him back a pittance of information.”

Imani wasn’t intimidated. The king’s threats didn’t scare her when she felt a million miles away in Niflheim.

“Then have the king come tell me himself. Ah, that’s right—he can’t. Well, I’m sorry for whatever he has over your head, but that’s your problem.” She paused and gave him a feral smile. “I could be persuaded to help you and share what I’ve seen if you’d be willing to do something for me.”

Asking him for sex crossed her mind. It would easily solve her problems for a while. But she didn’t know this man, and there was no way she’d open herself up to him and risk having any details get back to Tanyl, even if she did try to use a memory spell.

Also, the idea repulsed her. This man was reasonably good-looking, but there was something distinctly unappealing about sleeping with this shifter.

Another brilliant idea struck her, though.

“What is it you want?” Ren asked, guarded and suspicious.

“A cup of your blood—now.” Imani’s eyes landed on a chalice from the dinner tray Rosalynn had laid out for her. She grabbed it and shoved it in his face.

“What? Why?” he sputtered. It was a fair question; people didn’t give up their blood for just anyone. But she was desperate right now, and he’d be too scared to say anything afterward, anyway.

“Some blood for a spell I’m working on.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You know us witches, always working on something new.” Sauntering over to her dinner, Imani snatched the knife and began tossing it up in the air. She hadn’t worked with knives in what felt like forever. It felt good to hold a physical weapon in her hand again instead of just her wand.

He audibly swallowed then took out a pencil and scrap of paper. “Fine. Now, tell me what you have for him.”

“Not until I get what I want,” she snapped.

Before he could reply, she lunged at him.

Pummeling Ren to the ground, she held the supper knife to his throat and growled at him. Anger now lashed through her in a way she couldn’t control, swiftly turning to insatiable hunger. How dare Tanyl think she’d take this dangerous spying arrangement lying down. She had hurt him with her lies, so he wanted to hurt her back but wasn’t capable.

Another growl tore from her throat. If only she could be an actual animal like Ren for a bit. She was that desperate, wanting to rip through her skin and find relief.

“What are you doing?” he sputtered.

The shifter didn’t deserve her anger—this was entirely Tanyl’s doing—but Imani couldn’t make herself stop. Why couldn’t she? Training had taught her that controlling emotions was a key part of controlling her magic. But all the lessons and logic had gone out the window when she’d thought about Tanyl prancing around in a crown that wasn’t his.

“Are you a madwoman?” His eyes moved from her nose to her mouth several times.

“Probably.” She sliced a shallow, long cut near his collarbone and let the blood flow. Once the cup was full, she crawled off him and tried to stand as dignified as possible. Ren didn’t care about such manners and stumbled to his feet, clutching his throat. She tossed him a napkin.

“Happy now?” He glared at her as he dabbed the blood. “Tell me what you know.”

Imani’s lips parted, but it took a moment for the words to follow. “I’ve only been here a short while, but what I’ve observed is a monarch in good health, with six sons who appear to serve him loyally. Their version of the Royal Order of Magic—the Council of Royal Magic—is a well-run organization, but they’ve been careful to keep me away from it.”

The details around the alliance with the Norn elves sat on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back, needing to keep some information close to her chest for now.

“This is not enough for him.” Ren’s voice shook. Was he seriously afraid of Tanyl?