Page 20 of The Nymph King

Heat built low in his throat. He forced it down, suppressing the instinct to descend and reduce the caravan to ash.

But easy did not mean controlled, and being in control mattered, especially with her. He tracked the path ahead instead. The forest thickened farther west, the canopy closing tightly over the road. The Draswood had already made its decision, so he couldn’t attack here.

His wings adjusted as he circled. The wind blew east, carrying her scent upward again, faint but unmistakable. He hated how quickly it pulled him back toward feelings he had no interest in examining.

This was deeper than love. He wanted her alive, safe, and powerful, yes, but most importantly, beside him… and choosing him. When she refused, some uglier part of him began calculating how to remove the other choices. Protecting her became possessing her. Wanting her power became wanting to take it before anyone else could.

Kiran understood the contradiction, but he simply had no intention of letting it stop him.

His fire created another problem. If he lost control, he could hurt Imani or set the Draswood ablaze, and burning her precious forest would hardly improve his chances of convincing her to tolerate him afterward. He smothered a twinge of pain at the memory of her spiteful glare only days ago, and turned west, intending to beat them to Vathis.

It did not matter now. He had made his choices, and there was no unwriting them. Did he have regrets? Yes. But they still would not stop him from having his beautiful heartmate at his side, even if he had to force her.

Landing in a silent grove near an unoccupied home just outside the city, he shifted back into his elvish form and cracked his neck from side to side.

Frustration did not even begin to describe how he felt.

The tree cover blocked his view, but they would be approaching Vathis now. He had already flown the perimeter twice and hadn’t seen any neglected section of wall or slow, lazy gate. Indeed, there was no obvious weakness. Ellisar had the defenses inspected too often for decay to create an opening, and Vathis could absorb thousands more people if threatened. Irritatingly competent. Kehomel had never looked this difficult to breach, and he would need to work on that when he returned.

Kiran removed his crown and tossed it onto the grass beside him. Brushing loose hair from his forehead, he sat beneath a Draswood tree. His glamour brand kept him invisible as he observed the guards at Vathis’s gate change shifts, cataloging everything from who checked papers and who patrolled the walls to how long each rotation lasted and which guards spoke to whom before leaving their posts.

He was going to get through those gates… he simply needed to know how. More importantly, he needed information about Ellisar’s estate because that was where they would take Imani.

His fists closed in his lap.

He had possessed his heartmate, and he refused to lose her again. But possession was only the beginning. He imagined taking the Drasil before anyone else could use it against them, gathering enough power that no one could threaten either of them without going through him first.

Then he would give her everything else, anything she wanted, whether it was Niflheim, an army, access to the Under, and her father. Answers. Whatever throne waited for them there. He could already imagine her furious beside him, insulting him across council tables and refusing every expectation his court placed on her.

Good.

A smile spread across his face as he imagined it. He wanted her arguments, her body in his bed, her feeding from him, and the certainty that every kingdom understood hurting one meant answering to both.

Eventually, he told himself, she would understand.

But that was where his thoughts always became dangerous.

He sighed.

A faint floral scent reached him.

She had been here just an hour or so earlier.

Kiran inhaled deeply and let himself remember the past, when things between them had been all right. Never as good as they could have been, but right enough that he had wanted her presence beside him everywhere.

Now Ellisar had her, which was a considerably more concerning problem than this Gavin fool.

Kiran had known Ellisar since before the elf became High Sentinel. The Norn elf was not some weak court male dazzled by a pretty queen. He was powerful enough to stand against Kiran, ruthless enough to survive doing it, and notoriously uninterested in choosing a mate beneath him.

Imani was exactly the kind of woman he would want. Kiran was sure Ellisar would desire her for her beauty and intelligence. And he would understand her magic and be unfrightened by it. He would not ask her to diminish herself. He had enough strength and security to protect her without making it look like imprisonment, and enough power of his own that he would never need to steal hers simply to stand beside her.

Kiran scraped a hand down his face, hating that thought far more than he hated imagining them in bed together. Although he hated that, too.

Imani might look at Ellisar and see everything Kiran kept promising her, including strength, safety, alliance, and equality without chains.

His eyes slid shut as he imagined them together, both with silver hair and pale skin.

Never.