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CHAPTER 1

Well,this night fucking blows.

I sit on the concrete floor of one of the Politia’s dimly lit cells, my arms slung over my knees, my dress from the Samhain Ball pooled out around me.

I stare at the ground absently, my palm still throbbing from where I cut it earlier this evening to lift mycurse. It’s not the only thing that hurts.

A migraine like no other is pounding beneath my skull, thanks to overusing my magic earlier tonight. But even that isn’t the most painful part of my body at the moment.

I can barely breathe around the ache in my chest and the memories that now fill my head.

I woke up this morning as Selene Bowers, a twenty-year-old witch with magically-induced memory loss. I’m ending this evening as Selene Bowers, a twenty-year-old witch who has two complete sets of memories—one from this life and one from another.

A wave of nausea rolls through me, partially from the migraine, partially from the sheer quantity of memories that have been shoved back in my brain. All of them demand my attention, but especially the strange, alien,oldmemories.

I now focus on that other life, Roxilana’s life.

Mylife, I correct myself. My first one.

It unspools behind my eyes like some awful movie. The battles, the death, the sheer desperation to survive.

The sweetest, most beautiful part of that life was Memnon, that insufferable bastard. I hate that tonight, on the heels of one of the worst evenings of my life, when I should revile the sorcerer more than ever, my head is filled with memories of his touches, his whispered pledges of undying love, and his sheermagnetism. It drew me to him over and over again when I was Roxilana, and damn it, it draws me to him even now.

Back in that ancient life, he fought for me and fiercely loved me. He crossed Europe to find me, then made me his queen. And he became one of the most powerful, monstrous men in the ancient world so that I could have my heart’s desire. We had the sort of love that’s so sharply wonderful it borders on pain.

Until, of course, the moment it all fell apart.

And it fell apart just as spectacularly as it began.

In the distance, a metal door hisses open, the sound scattering my thoughts.

I lift my head, wondering if I’m about to be questioned. My exhaustion surges at the thought. I don’t think I have the energy to effectively plead my innocence, even though I now have the memories to prove it.

I hear the low tones of an officer speaking to the man on duty down here. Then two sets of footfalls head toward my cell. One of them I’d recognize from anywhere, the sure, heavy sound of that stride drawing out goose bumps. A moment later, a ribbon of twisting, indigo magic moves toward the bars of my cell.

Memnon.

The ache in me deepens. Yet after all he did tonight, I have anger to match my hurt. It’s buried under the pain of my migraine, but how it burns.

Memnon’s magic reaches between the iron bars of my cell, but instead of passing through, his power sizzles against some ward, the wispy blue smoke recoiling from the contact.

“These are neutralizing cells,” a masculine voice explains. “No magic gets in or out. They’re spelled to keep inmates from using their power.”

Inmates like me, he means.

“You’ve subjected myfiancéeto this?” Memnon says, menace dripping from his voice. My stomach bottoms out at that word.Fiancée. I think I might’ve likedinmatebetter.

“I assure you, there was a warrant for her arrest?—”

“She was arrested and detained under false allegations,” Memnon cuts in, his tone sharp as a blade. “I expect your department to make amends for this.”

The fuckingaudacityof this man to demand anything from the Politia when he was the one who truly placed me here.

His heavy, ominous footfalls come to a stop right in front of my cell. Even with the jail cell suppressing my magic, I can sense the throb of the sorcerer’s presence, his power spilling out of him.

It’s that staggering power that got me into this mess in the first place. A sorcerer’s magic eats away at their conscience, so the more powerful they grow, the more heartless they become. And my soul mate is both very, very powerful and very, very heartless.

“Est amage.”