Page 31 of The Serpent Prince

Heavy silence permeated the room, and she could feel everyone’s eyes on her. Unhurried, she took out her wand. Then, with one sweep down her body, she muttered the incantation of an illusion spell. As she’d hoped, the curtain of the echo shield fell, revealing first her top portion then shimmering farther down to the floor where it stripped the magic into nothing then dissipated.

With a deep breath, Imani surveyed herself. The echo shield hadn’t been hiding much—her black scars, red brands, mangled hands, and other secrets remained hidden from the flesh magic. She wouldn’t be vomiting any snakes in front of this crowd. But with the echo shield entirely gone, her exposed skin brightened further to a glittering white-gold color with a halo-like glow surrounding her signature. Her hair looked far thicker and shinier—even she couldn’t stop touching its softness. There wasn’t a mirror, but she was sure her eyes were wider and bluer, and her silver freckles sparkled even more.

Again, she had no idea the echo shield worked so well but, apparently, it really did hide her entirely. Even when she thought her full soul draw had been out, it had been muted.

She’d underestimated the echo shield, and whatever new magic coursed through her veins made everything amplified.

Some in her thrall cried out, driven to their knees. Others could only stare at her in a daze.

This was the first time in more than a decade she’d purposely let her natural soul draw out in such raw force in front of so many people. The magnitude of her power was truly something to behold. A perfect representation of her breed, they always said.

She felt like a bright star in the sky with a hundred moons orbiting her.

At least the flesh magic held up against Magnus’s scrutiny.

The king’s glazed eyes flicked down to the leaf sigil, shining bright blue on her wrist. His lust was evident, proof of her breed.

She stared into his beautiful green eyes. In this moment, if she wanted, she could ask Magnus to quack like a duck, and he would.

Imani could get used to this, but then she remembered how easy it would be for the crowd to descend on her like a pack of wild dogs. Her illusion and shadow magic might be enough to protect her—or it might not. She shuddered. This was what made her kind so dangerous, and so hunted. Especially now that she had this new magic elevating her already formidable power.

Everyone staring made nerves skitter down her spine. Indeed, she needed to play this carefully.

Luvon stood closer to her, sensing her anxious emotions. As a male elf, he’d be less affected by the thrall, and like most Norn elves, his natural instinct would be to protect her. He gripped his wand tighter as more murmuring broke out and a few breeds began shuffling forward to better see her.

The five princes watched her like she was a new species to behold. In a way, she was, if they had never seen a true High-Norn.

Well, now they had.

Saevel looked particularly hungry with his white-knuckled hands grasping the armrests of his chair.

Like always, it was Kiran who surprised her. The youngest prince fought better than any of them against the pull of her soul draw. His eyes pooled with darkness for a moment, somehow resisting the call, and that was it. Nothing in his expression or body language gave away that her thrall affected him at all.

The type of cold bastard he must be to do so was unimaginable.

Even the king was smiling and happy, letting the full force of the soul draw pull him in.

It would feel delightful, after all.

With the wave of a hand, Magnus beckoned both Imani and Luvon forward. Imani stepped up to the dais, feeling the throne’s magic flutter across her skin as she entered the radius of its power. Unsure of what to do, she curtseyed again and stood up straight with her eyes averted down to the floor.

Out of her peripheral vision, Luvon had bowed as well but was looking up at the king instead. Not making eye contact but waiting for him to speak.

Magnus put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. Then, raising a hand, the king put a crooked finger under Imani’s chin and lifted her face to his. “You are absolutely beautiful. Look at you. And you’re a strong fighter, aren’t you, little elf? I can see it in your eyes. A sparkling gemstone amongst the uninteresting rocks my sons have brought for me. I’m not sure how you ended up in such a subservient position with my youngest son, but I am grateful you did. He does have a way of getting people to do his bidding. It’s why I keep him around.”

Imani hadn’t expected to hear so much commentary from the king, but that was what the thrall did—it relaxed her prey, made them feel safe, uninhibited, and happy.

“Isn’t she a rare marvel, Saevel?” Magnus grinned at his heir apparent.

Saevel cleared his throat and tried to focus his half-lidded eyes. “Yes, Father, she is. Imani is lovely.”

“Imani! You’re on a first-name basis, then? Extraordinary.” He sounded crazy, like Kiran, at that moment. The similarities between the two were astonishing.

Magnus smiled back at Imani. It wasn’t kind. “It’s been a great long while since I last saw a high-bred Norn female as perfect as you. I would very much like for you to join my court.”

The crowd behind her was surging forward, and someone reached a hand out to touch her. The throne reacted swiftly, tossing the imprudent one back so hard his head smacked on the floor and he blacked out.

“Uncivilized idiots,” Magnus roared.