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Before I can scramble out of bed, Memnon’s indigo magic reaches out and opens the door.

Nero walks in silently, and once I see him, I slide out of Memnon’s bed and rush over to my panther, only belatedly realizing I’m still very naked and a little dizzy. I wrap my arms around Nero anyway, who leans into my embrace, nuzzling against my cheek, then giving it an abrasive lick.

“How dare you almost die on me,” I whisper, squeezing him tighter.

He rubs his head against me again, then pulls away. At first, I think it’s because he’s only so touchy-feely with his emotions, but then he pads over to the far side of the bed, where Memnon is, and he places his head on the edge of it.

The sorcerer’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and Memnon reaches out and rubs Nero’s head. “You’re a true warrior,” the sorcerer says gruffly, “You owe me no thanks for healing you.”

Ah, fuck. This man is definitely going to make me fall for him.

Memnon glances at me, a small smile on his lips.That’s my deepest hope, my queen.

CHAPTER 25

“You cannot go back to Henbane,”Memnon says.

The two of us are in the sorcerer’s kitchen.

Memnon is currently shirtless, his back to me as he cooks bacon on the stove. I forgot how good of a cook he is; it was one of his hobbies way back when.

“I’m sorry, what?” I say, my eyebrows rising.

He turns from the stove, crossing his arms over his rippling torso. I can hear the crackle and pop of frying bacon, and the oil must be hitting his back, but the sorcerer doesn’t move and doesn’t flinch.

He lifts his chin. “You cannot stay there.”

Without meaning to, my eyes have drifted down his chest, following the flow of his tattoos.

Stop staring at his pretty muscles.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” he echoes, narrowing his gaze.

I have to force myself to not react to that word. We both now know I often use it when things aren’t fine.

I brace myself for his retort.

Instead, he says, “Yes, I can believe that. You are fearsome.” There’s no mockery in his words. “But how about Nero?”

His question is a sucker punch to the stomach.

Nero.

My gaze moves to the woods beyond the window, where my familiar bounded off to ten minutes ago. Even though this is a different patch of forest, one Memnon has insisted is safe, I’ve still been worried about my panther’s well-being ever since he left.

I rub my forehead and take a deep breath.

“Damn it,” I mutter.

Memnon’s right. Even if I warded my room within an inch of my life, and even if I was willing to take on whatever skirmishes might come my way…I’m not willing to risk Nero. Not again.

I scowl. “Did you know this would happen?” I ask, perhaps a touch accusingly.

The sorcerer’s expression has softened, and his eyes look almost pitying. “Not this specifically. But,est amage, we have always had enemies. This is not new or surprising to me.”

My eyes drift over his kitchen again. Memnon watches me like a hawk, drinking in my appraisal of his place. The loud pop from the pan rouses him, and he turns back to the stove.