The Elf Witch |Book 1|

Chapter 6

The Aowyns usually obliged. Businesses like this represented a considerable part of their income; they were so significant that her grandmother usually attended the transactions with her.

Feeling her wand vibrate, she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to refocus as a flash of movement caught her eye. The female tried to snatch the knife from a nearby table.

Imani responded on instinct, forgetting about her vow completely. She enchanted the knife to fly to the Naiad's neck while, at the same time, wrapping Elyon's cloak around his throat. She'd seen Ara use this magic many times before. Tighter, then a little tighter still, she watched him choke for a few moments while his mate let out strangled cries, begging her not to hurt him.

"You think I'm afraid of some whore?" He choked.

She chuckled, giving him air again. "Why do people think that word offends me? This whore holds your lives in her hands. It's touching how protective you are of each other, though."

"If you think Asim will let you work here unchallenged, think again. I can't wait to hear about your torture and dismemberment when you order their magic and they come to collect the money from you," he choked out.

Imani ignored the flare of anxiety in her chest, flexing her fingers to twist the cloak tighter. "You'll be waiting a long time."

He tried to say something, but her magic had him in a firm grip. Finally, she let up a bit, giving him a few seconds of air before tightening the cloak again as a thrill shot through her.

"Let's cut the bullshit. We both know I have proof you're smuggling pixie dust illegally over the border. You need this specific type of illusion magic, don't you?"

She held up the parchment with the complicated illusion spell.

He just stared at it—and her mouth quirked into a tiny smile.

If word got out that Naiads were trafficking Trow pixies from the Meadowlands into Niflheim, the Crown's justice would be swift.

Despite how much he annoyed her, sleeping with Fen after Ara's arrest was already paying off for Imani.

When she let up again, Elyon let out a hoarse cough.

"Money. Now," she ordered before instantly tightening the cloak again.

He started turning red, and the woman's wide eyes flicked to the kitchen, then back to her mate, throat bobbing as the knife pressed into it.

"I'm going to let you breathe again. So, the next words out of your mouth better be what I want to hear."

"Ara and I worked out payment already," he gasped. "It's not our problem that she's dead. Get that knife away from her neck. I-I—"

"—Elyon, Elyon, Elyon," she crooned, cutting him off. "Be that as it may, Ara is dead. But I'm alive and far saner than she had been at the end of her life." Imani poked her wand into his cheek. "We don't want to start our new relationship on falsehoods, do we? I'd hate to slit your mate's throat today."

In truth, she would do no such thing. They already had enough problems regarding Malis' murder, and going around killing customers was terrible for business. Indeed, the Aowyn family didn't murder that often; when they did, it was with meticulous planning and reason. All she needed to do was make him more afraid to cross her than anyone else.

Panic and terror took over Elyon's face, his focus on his mate. The magic started growing around them as he reached for his tether.

It gave Imani pause. She'd never felt heartmate magic before; even two low-bred nymphs made her nervous.