Page 2 of The Serpent Prince

Despite the tension between them, Esa—with her beautiful wings—graciously used her magic to clean Imani up and help her dress. Imani chose the subdued emerald gown that dipped in the front to reveal just a hint of her breasts, and only felt a prickle of sadness remembering that her sister had made it. The color made her long, silver hair sparkle, and her blue eyes were luminous against the green. Imani looked extra pale from the tribulations of the past few days, but she cast a light glamour to cover her facial scar, finger mutilations, and signs of exhaustion.

Again, her sister’s dress made her appear perfect. She looked regal and ready to face an arrogant prince.

After stepping into the rain, Imani buried deep into her cloak. Walking into the unknown made her want to hide, and that prickle of unease stayed stuck in her stomach. What did Saevel want with her? It settled deep in her gut the closer she walked toward the tents.

When she approached, she found the princes’ quarters were less a tent and more a series of elaborate rooms. It appeared Saevel occupied the larger half, so Imani knew Kiran took up the other half. Smoke drifted from the tops of his side, meaning the rooms were clearly occupied … and she couldn’t help but wonder what the mad prince was doing at that exact moment.

Lifting the tent flap, Imani stepped inside, and Saevel spotted her almost immediately. He rose and brushed past the guards to reach her. “Imani,” he said, stroking his hands down her arms and giving her a small smile. It made her shudder, and not from lust. She was nervous, but hid it behind a mask of indifference.

“Why did you need to see me?” Imani asked by way of greeting, taking in the room. It took all her mental strength to muster a cool, unaffected attitude about her.

“I want to know who you are feeding from now that Tanyl is gone.” Saevel didn’t mince words. She liked that about him.

Imani gave him a withering look before continuing to wander through the tent, sizing up the beautiful furniture and gorgeous rugs.

“I’m speaking about the fact that the binding from the ascension assessments keeping us from touching each other is gone,” he added with an annoyed look.

“And here I am, not even thinking about that now,” Imani lied. Her heart pounded at the image his words had put in her mind.

“Always with that lying mouth, little elf.” He locked his arm around Imani’s waist, crudely pulling her against him so she could feel how hard he was for her. Saevel really didn’t waste any time going after what he wanted, and again, she liked that about him.

But he still needed to learn some manners. She was done being used.

Irritated, Imani pulled back and shot him a fierce glare. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me, shifter.”

He inclined his head and gave her a slow, lazy smile. “My brother was right; you are delicious when you’re angry. I’m going to jerk off to this entire scene for days.”

“Your brother is truly a snake.”

“I am not disagreeing,” he said. “And because of that, I think some gratitude is in order.”

“Oh really?” Imani looked down her nose at him.

“Yes, really. Because I know that without my agreeing to that dangerous binding with him after the third assessment, you wouldn’t be here … you’d be dead.”

Imani arched a brow at him, pretending she was surprised by that statement, but she wasn’t. Kiran had said Saevel knew about their bargain, and the heir apparent wasn’t stupid. He would have known the queen had eyes to kill Imani.

Saevel wanted sex from Imani. She would need to tread carefully with this conversation, lest she lose the upper hand, because she needed information on what Kiran wanted with their binding, and this could be the perfect leverage.

“I would have figured out another way. I don’t owe you anything—I’ve given enough,” she bit out, wanting to appear strong.

Bright green eyes sparkled with desire as he ambled closer to her. His massive werebeast shifter body crowded her, and she instinctively leaned back. While still dark like Kiran’s, Saevel’s hair was slightly longer, giving him even more of a beastly look.

Saevel picked up the length of her braid, playing with it as he added, “I doubt you would have figured it out. Which is why you came crawling to my brother.” He paused and let her hair drop. “I want to make another deal; promise I can fulfill your needs and keep things discreet.”

More promises and deals she couldn’t trust. Would they ever end?

She scoffed, but Saevel invaded her space, and it sent a shiver of something up her spine … Unease? Desire?

“After everything you’ve done to me, why should I give you the time of day?”

“Besides the fact that I’m a prince, which should be reason enough, I know Tanyl asked you to spy on us,” he said plainly. “I can feed you pieces of information to pass along that will seem useful to him but protect you from being burned at the stake for betraying our country.”

His eyes were earnest. With such honest innocence glowing inside them, Imani speculated how much of the dirty work he had Kiran do. While intimidating and impulsive, under it all, Saevel’s spirit remained pure. Such a look would never pass over the elf prince’s face—Kiran destroyed those emotions in himself a long time ago—and she hated Saevel a little for it. Kiran was his own person and made his own choices, but his family had made him into the worst version of himself, of that she was certain.

“Your brother might be a snake, but you’re an asshole all the same,” she declared.

So much for treading carefully, Imani admonished herself.