The Elf Witch |Book 1|

Chapter 31

Two days later, she broke into the princes' rooms again.

Despite the thicker magic coming off it and a nasty heat signature warning people away, at her command, it rushed around her like a broken dam, stripping away the glamour over her appearance.

She smirked as she stepped over the threshold in her mostly true form.

"She gave us everything. All the proof, ready to go," a man's voice drifted down the hall.

The orange glow from the fire lit everything up as she approached, including the three men standing together near it. The sight made her freeze.

A million scenarios for why they were here were running through her mind, and none were good.

"If you bring this to the Queen, she'll have to take it seriously," the other replied.

"The magic was—" the first man cut himself off, staring at Imani. He glanced at her and then back to the prince. A slow, wicked smile spread across his nymph face. "Well, well, well, Lady Aowyn."

Her grandmother met with the men's father on a few occasions years ago—all business—and on more significant transactions, she and Riona always accompanied. So, while they'd seen her years before with her glamour on, he still knew her.

Imani stood firm, unflinching despite the weight of their heavy stares.

"What a nice surprise, Imani," Kiran deadpanned in a tone that suggested the opposite before he turned to the brothers. "I wasn't aware that either of you personally knew Lady Aowyn." The prince's face remained impassive, but a muscle in his jaw tightened, and she knew right then that she shouldn't have let herself inside his rooms.

In no way did Imani personally know the sons of the High Sentinel of the Naiads. But she kept her mouth closed in a thin line.

"I wasn't aware that you did either, Kiran," Selwyn countered smugly. "My, she's certainly more grown up than she was all those years ago," he said as his eyes lowered to her breasts with heat banking in his electric-blue gaze. "I always knew you'd be pretty, never this, though."

Her lips parted, breathing short and shallow—still, she stayed silent.

The younger brother, Maelon, leaned against the wall and studied her curiously. She suspected her magic had taken hold of him already and chastised herself again for her carelessness and arrogance in barging in here. He shook his head, stepping closer to Imani. "Hmm, indeed. It's a shame the prince here—"

—He didn't get to finish because Kiran slammed his fist into the second man's jaw. A sound like crunching bones and a muffled groan, then the body fell onto the floor.

Kiran stared for a moment at what used to be the High Sentinel's oldest son. Then his boot slammed into his head, knocking away his wand and forcing the man onto his back.

Selwyn opened his mouth to protest. The prince didn't let him, grabbing him by his hair and smashing his head against the marble above the hearth.

"What part about not talking about anything did you not understand? Let—" he smashed his head. "—me" another smash, "—remind you!" Kiran yelled, hammering the man's head against the fireplace mantle. Stone crumbled onto the floor, mixing with the blood.

Yet Kiran didn't stop.

"You don't talk about my business to anyone." Smash. "You don't mention me, ever." Smash. "And you sure as shit don't call me anything but Your Highness."

Crush. Slam. Smash. The prince didn't hold back, and she cringed every time. Imani exhaled as he finally released his head, now covered in blood and flesh. Utterly destroyed.