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“Memnon.” I hate how panicked I feel at his absence.

“I need to remove my own clothes.”

Right, of course.

I give him that same anxious nod and watch him undress as Nero nestles in close.

I pet my panther, but my entire body stays on edge until Memnon, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, slips into the bed with me.

I flip onto my side to more fully face Memnon. There’s so much I want to say to him, so much I saw, so much Memnon did. I can’t seem to put words to any of it at the moment, so I simply take one of his hands and clasp it between mine.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I brush a kiss against his knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he says softly, searching my face. “I willalwayscome for you, and I willalwaysfight for you.” He wraps a hand around my clasped ones. “Little witch,” he breathes, “please tell me what happened before I found you.”

Another shudder works its way through my system.

Ican’t.

“Read my mind.” It’s a plea, one that would allow me to avoid lingering longer than necessary on what happened this evening. It only registers a few seconds later, when his hands move to my head, that I gave him a command, one he’s forced to follow.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. Read my mindonlyif you want.”

“Selene.” As Memnon speaks, his magic sifts out of him, the inky blue clouds of it pooling in the air. “Stop apologizing to me.”

His power creeps toward me, moving as though it has a mind of its own. I draw in a breath, and as easy as that, the magic slips in, coating my mouth and plunging down my throat.

I brace my hands on his forearms as the night flickers behind my eyes. Bones breaking, screaming, suffocating pain. I swallowdown the taste of bile, my body shaking all over again from the memory.

His eyes begin to glow and his hair lifts. That burning gaze finds mine.

“The sorceress is lucky she’s dead,” he says solemnly.

I tense.

His thumbs stroke the sides of my face, even as his power continues to rage through him. “I will draw our enemies out and break them one by one,” he says, his eyes hypnotic. “I won’t stop until I make chalices from their skulls and coats from their skin. I will not rest until theentireFortuna clan is nothing but a fucking memory.”

These are monstrous promises, but for once, they don’t frighten me as they should. The Fortunas have built an entire empire on abusing supernaturals. They deserve the ruthless attentions of someone like Memnon.

I squeeze his forearms, a tear slipping out.

“This,” he finishes, “I swear to you.”

CHAPTER 39

Yesterday,I woke as one person.

Today, I am another.

I feel a hardness to me, one that wasn’t there before. If yesterday, I was exposed and vulnerable, today, new armor has grown back. The world exists on one side of it, and on the other…the only things that exist within that armor are me and my bonds.

Memnon must notice this change because I’ve caught him studying me a few times since we’ve woken up, a curious look on his face, like he’s trying to figure me out.

Nero sticks to me like glue.

There are a thousand things the sorcerer and I need to discuss, but right now, all I want is some semblance of normalcy to follow the nightmare of last night.

I pad into the kitchen, opening up cupboards and making myself at home. Since I started living here, cookies and crackers, chips and granola bars have filled up what originally was a bare pantry.