Page 83 of The Serpent Prince

“They will certainly have the most beautiful mother,” he replied, tugging Imani closer. “But I agree. Our little ones will be perfect,” he lied softly, pressing a kiss to Imani’s temple.

Imani felt a fierce satisfaction surge in her. Her eyes found his, and he gave her a half-smile. Even after he turned away, she stared at him, feeling something heavy and uncomfortable in her chest.

Only heartmates could truly have children anymore, despite what the other dwarf had said and despite Ayla’s extremely rare situation. It might seem like Imani didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, but for someone without a true family for her whole life, she wanted one.

The other male turned to the prince. “Prince Kiran, as a royal elf, I’m sure you felt fortunate when you learned your heartmate was one, as well. More royal heirs.” He gave him a friendly smile.

“It wasn’t the first thought on my mind when I learned who my heartmate was, but yes … I love that she’s an elf like me.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back, and she moved closer to him.

“What was your first thought?”

“That there had been a mistake.” He smiled, all charm.

Everyone politely laughed and started chiming in with their own examples.

His eyes followed her across the room as she slipped out. They’d stayed late enough, anyway, and Kiran could say their goodbyes for them.

Away from him, Imani needed to be gone. They had fed last week, and it would be off schedule to ask again.

She padded back to their room, hiding from the crowds of sycophants. In the small, dark hallway, Imani leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths.

She snapped her head to the right. Kiran’s silhouette cut an imposing profile as he prowled closer. He seemed angry, but gods, he smelled so perfect. Imani wanted him. She glared as he approached, though.

“I don’t need a lecture from you about sneaking out.” She scrubbed her hands down her face.

Kiran moved closer until he was right in front of her. Imani kept her eyes shut. She couldn’t look at him.

“Leave. You are the last person I need to see right now,” she ground out.

He was suddenly holding her face, a light touch.

She opened her eyes and looked up. A storm raged in his expression, but Imani saw now he wasn’t angry at her.

“Imani, you need to feed.” His voice was low and raspy.

“Yes, and I’m sorry. It’s not … our week. Normally, I would find someone else, but we are here, and you’re supposed to be my⁠—”

“I don’t fucking share. If you need me, I will take care of you.” He pointed to his chest. Then, with a jerk, he tightened his arm around her, leading her down the hall into their room. He waved his wand in front of him, and the door flew open then slammed closed as he pulled her close against him.

“That was an entertaining made-up story you told at dinner,” she said softly.

He smiled against her neck. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“Hmm,” she murmured as he kissed behind her ear. Imani felt his sharp fangs nip the sensitive skin there, drawing a little blood. It sent desire through her.

“Of course, my next thought when I first saw you,” he said between kissing her, “was that I couldn’t possibly deserve such a lovely, fierce creature.”

Imani loved the lies he spun. When they’d first met, he had sneered and humiliated her.

“You are a good liar,” she whispered, arching her back. “I almost believed what you said back there.”

“About what?”

“Everything. Us meeting for the first time. That bit about our children.”

He pulled away and looked at her but didn’t respond. Imani watched him wage an inner war, unable to detect what exactly was happening behind those mismatched eyes—he kept the doors to his mind firmly closed.

She swallowed, diverting her attention to the strong column of his thick neck.