Page 45 of The Serpent Prince

“I thought we had an agreement,” he argued back. “I trust you; I don’t trust her.”

“I refuse to be a meal for you when you have a perfectly good one who can offer reciprocity. You’re asking too much this time.”

Her. They were talking about Imani feeding Kiran. The idea was so appealing she almost fell to her knees to beg him. Feeding from Kiran would be perfection, and she so badly needed a respite from this pain.

However much she wanted it, though, it was a bad idea.

“No,” she rasped, barely able to speak.

No one acknowledged her.

Imani fisted her hands in frustration and tried to sit up, but strong hands pushed her back down. She lolled her head to the side, stuck lying on the cot without a say in this conversation.

Zadie spoke next. “We are running out of short-term options until you’re back with your brother and cousin. Esa refuses to help when Imani needs this just as much as you. This could get messy if you force the pix, and you know I’m not strong enough anymore for you … or her most likely,” Zadie said bluntly.

Kiran hasn’t been feeding?

Imani was shocked by Zadie’s words, but when she darted her eyes at the witch, Zadie was staring Kiran down with nothing but truth in her gaze.

“Whores will be fine. I will find a memory spell that works better than the others. I just need more time.”

Memory spells were tricky. It was an alteration skill Imani hadn’t even attempted. It seemed that even powerful, experienced witches like Kiran had problems with them.

“We don’t have more time … Maybe for you, but not for her. This is a good short-term solution for everyone.”

“No, no, no,” Imani moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes slitted and looking up at the prince’s face. That would be a dangerous line she couldn’t cross.

Growling, Kiran moved his hands up and down her chest again. Slow, methodical. She quieted, feeling a calmness spread through her limbs.

He made sure she understood what he was doing as he moved closer and was carefully touching her again, so carefully. Trust me, his eyes said. Imani was so lost to the pain she could almost hear his thoughts.

Trust me.

She did, and easily slipped back into darkness for a moment. Imani didn’t like thinking of Kiran seeing her unconscious, but the healing power was too much. Imani felt the ache in her chest ease the longer Kiran touched her with his magic.

Kiran might not be her captor in the traditional sense, but he wasn’t her safeguard, either. Not her partner. Yet, when he looked at Imani, she felt the same pull of desire she’d encountered during the root-binding spell, then again in the throne room when he’d decided to lie for her. It was the desire to act, to protect.

Protect his assets, she thought bitterly.

But could she really do this? Feed from Kiran and let him do the same?

I have no choice. She hated her breed most days, but today was particularly humiliating.

Kiran’s voice dropped lower. “Imani has secrets. She’s loyal to her own kingdom, and she is powerful. Without a foolproof memory spell, how can we be sure the same violation won’t happen?”

“With another binding,” Esa replied.

Letting out a string of curse words was all Kiran did. Imani had seen his body—he had enough bindings.

“This is a good option,” Zadie insisted. “With the binding, she can’t do or say anything, and when it’s over, we’ll wipe her memory of it with the new spell.”

Imani shot upright, fighting back Kiran’s fierce grip and blinking. Light from the fire danced across the wall, mixing with her own shadows, which were now out to play, flittering outside her body at will. But she wasn’t thinking about the shadows.

She was looking at the prince. And Zadie.

A burst of strength shot through her. “No one is touching my memory. I would rather die than have anyone wipe my memories.”

Imani was absolutely serious. Memory spells could go horribly wrong. Kiran could purposely wipe other memories. Those spells were highly regulated in Essenheim. She couldn’t imagine what she might become by giving him that much power over her.