Page 37 of The Serpent Prince

Imani nodded. It made sense.

Zadie stood up. “Enough talk. And this time, remember your opponent isn’t going to follow rules. They are going to use everything in their arsenal to win, and you need to, as well.”

“I’m not sure you can truly take my shadows or the darkness they turn into.”

Zadie smiled. “Oh, I can. Now, shut up.” Then, like before, she instantly attacked.

The nymph managed to stave off the shadows and put Imani on her ass five times. Her raw magic and mastery of skills rivaled Ara’s. It seemed that growing older had only made the witch better.

“You’re holding back,” Zadie snapped. Her warm, gold magic pulsed from her like the sun, unlike the chilling bone coldness of Imani’s.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Imani made a frustrated noise. She was holding back.

“What are you afraid of?” Zadie probed, stalking to stand over Imani, where she glared at her.

“Another Fabric event,” Imani grumbled.

Zadie kicked her side, and Imani grimaced, curling into a ball. “Get up. I want to show you something.”

By the time Imani got to her feet, Zadie was back across the room with her arms spread wide.

“Build the shadows into darkness, then throw them at me. Everything you have, I want to see it.”

Imani hesitated, but after seeing the disbelieving look in Zadie’s eyes, Imani wanted to prove her wrong. If she wanted the darkness, Imani would give it to her.

At her command, her magic grew heavy in her veins, spreading out through her fingers then streaming from her nails. It was already getting easier to bring them forth and call them back. Within seconds, the shadows coalesced into a thick column, impenetrable to any light. Imani could no longer see the nymph witch, but she felt her.

With a flick of her wrist, she sent her creation surging forward. It didn’t explode like it did with Malis, but the mass of magic groaned as it grew bigger still and spread itself wider, preparing to devour the witch whole.

Flinching, Imani covered her face with her arm. Unlike the others, she didn’t want to taste Zadie’s blood.

The blast shook the room. Imani gasped, the air yanked from her lungs in one dramatic pulse. Pitch-black consumed Imani as the shadows threw themselves backward into what seemed like smoke. A coughing fit followed as she tried to shake away goosebumps the cold magic caused, and she squeezed her eyes shut as the darkness dug itself back inside her signature.

A massive flash shone behind her eyelids. When Imani opened them, an even larger ball of light surrounded the darkness. And with a snap, any darkness blinked out, swallowed whole by the light. At that, both Zadie’s and Imani’s magic dissipated, and Zadie stood exactly as she had been before. The only difference was the faster rise and fall of her chest. Otherwise, she was perfectly fine.

Imani clenched her jaw to keep it closed. She had a lot of work to do to hope to be as powerful as Zadie.

Zadie bared her teeth. “I know you’re fighting your own nature. Your brand is red—Kiran admitted that to me—and that type of atrophic magic comes from the Under. So, I know there’s more darkness in you, desperate to get out. It calls to you, and you’re suffocating every time you resist.”

The Under? She’d known this since her conversation with Kiran about Malis, but she’d been ignoring the implications. To hear it confirmed again shook her identity to its core, and made her feel more alone than ever.

“Again,” Zadie growled.

Pushing aside her worries, Imani obliged, and this time when the shadows came forward, they blackened her limbs, and Imani could feel herself become the shadows. It was only seconds later, but she reformed again a few feet away. Shadows swirled around her and began preparing to attack again, and this time she imbued the mass with everything she could muster.

Imani was so wrapped up in her magic that she didn’t hear the hard, repetitive tapping of footsteps against the stone floor until it was too late. She looked up and paused at the man leaning against the archway, an infuriating smirk on his face. Without her focus, the shadows broke apart and started dancing around the room instead.

Although he was unshaven and his dark hair was mussed, as if he hadn’t bothered to look in a mirror for days, Kiran looked as handsome as ever. She hated him for it.

“Job well done, Imani, and your first time, too. Wow. That must have been quite the feeling to finally harness those unruly shadows into darkness the way you did. If only you had enough control to truly wield such a force … I’m sure you would have easily taken her down.”

Kiran’s sarcasm planted rage in her belly. The wand in Imani’s hand started trembling. Gods, she hated that he had seen her move with her shadows, and she hated when he treated her like some stupid child. But Imani kept her composure. She wasn’t going to let him get under her skin like he had in Essenheim.

“Your enthusiasm is breathtaking. You should have let me fend for myself in front of your father, by the way.”

He arched a brow at her. “Did you want to lick his boots? Because as powerful as your soul draw is, I guarantee he’s stronger, and that’s exactly what he would’ve made you do if you’d tried to argue about the illusion magic. How did you get past the direct order from the binding?”

A humorless laugh escaped Imani’s mouth. All he’d said was that she should let everything out, but that wasn’t a must. “You should choose your words more carefully around me, Your Highness. I chose to keep the echo shield out of an abundance of caution. I truly didn’t think a monarch could sense it.”