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The sorcerer’s brow furrows. Whatever he thought I was going to say, this isn’t it.

“I saw your recovered memories from this life,” he responds slowly. “But once the curse moved to your first life and you started to weep, I lost the connection.”

He’d been wiping away my tears and reassuring me I was okay. I’d almost forgotten those details.

“So you didn’t see how that life ended,” I say, just to be sure.

His gaze moves between my eyes and my mouth. “No, I didn’t.”

“What do you think happened?” I ask.

Memnon’s expression grows grim. “I haven’t the faintest clue. That is what I still wish to know. Why you cursed me to endless sleep and what you did after I was gone.”

I can hear other, more personal questions that he won’t voice but still echo down our bond.

Did you regret burying me alive? Did you betray me for another? Did you fall in love with someone else? Were you happy?

“How did I betray you?” I prod him. “Tell me exactly the steps you believe I took to entomb you.”

Memnon’s eyes narrow as he looks at me, a muscle in his cheek jumping. “Selene, if this is some sort of trick?—”

“Oh, there’s a trick involved, but it wasn’t made bymyhand.”

His brows rise, caught off guard by my response.

“Tell me,” I insist. “How did I fuck you over? I want to know every detail you believe I carried out to place you in that sarcophagus.”

The sorcerer’s jaw tightens with indignation. “This is my life you ruined?—”

“No,” I say viciously. “It ismylife thatyouruined. Two thousand years ago along the banks of the Amazon River, Idiedto keep you safe from a horrible fate! There was no grand plan. There was nolife after you. I protected you, and what did you dowhen you woke? You blamed me. You attacked me.Youbetrayedmeand everything we once were with your vengeance.”

Memnon looks as though I’ve struck him.

Goddess, but my bones ache, and I’m breathing heavily. All around us, my magic twists and writhes with my churning emotions.

“What?” Memnon finally says, his voice hushed.

“You wish to understand the past and my motives better?” I grab his hands and place them on either side of my head. “See them for yourself.”

Memnon’s hands flex against my skin, wisps of his magic curling out from beneath his palms as though he can’t quite contain his emotions. Down our bond, I feel the first tendrils of his rising horror.

I don’t think he wants to believe me, nor do I think he wants to read my mind. Not now that he knows he might not like what he finds.

“Do it,” I insist, shaking his hands a little from where I still grip them. My eyes are pricking, and I didn’t mean to get worked up over this. I just wanted his help, but this is how I get it without owing him anything. This is how the sorcerer understands that he owes me. The truth of our past—and our first demise—makes everything he’s done to me so much worse.

Memnon works his jaw, his scar tugging a little at the action. His smoky amber eyes hold my gaze for several seconds.

Finally, he bows his head, then nods, his fingers flexing against me again. “All right, Empress. As you wish.” He adjusts his hold. “Repeat after me,” he says. “Pes datapzaka kubiwapsasava vi’savva ziwatunutasa vak mi’tavekasavak ozakos detgap.”

I bare the last memories of my first life for you to see.

I recite the incantation, gripping his hands tightly, my heart beating fast as I prepare to relive this particular memory.

Memnon’s magic rushes from his hands, the blue tendrils of it slipping into my mouth and up my nostrils. I arch my back as it moves to my head, my hands tightening against his.

And then that final, fateful day of my last life unfolds right before my eyes.

CHAPTER 6