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My old friend. My fiercest enemy. My newest lover.

After a moment, he says, “I’m unused to hearing you speak of our past as…ours.” He pulls me away from his neck to gaze at me. “It fills me with no small amount of joy.”

I stare back at him uncertainly, my emotions tangled up, when that goddess-damned witch’s brew stirs in my veins, and my core begins to ache all over again.

No, no, no. Please, not again.

I press my lips together to stifle a moan, but I don’t manage to stop my hips from grinding against him.

“Again?” Memnon says, surprised.

I duck my head, a little embarrassed. Instead of responding, I lean in and press a kiss to his neck, then another and another. Memnon draws in a sharp breath, his hands gripping me tighter.

Despite my own misgivings about my soul mate, I’m absurdly relieved that it’s him who’s with me tonight. The sorcerer is as natural and familiar to me as my own skin. Perhaps it is like this with all soul mates, but I suspect so much of it has to do with the life we lived together long ago. That one was built first out of friendship.

He makes a sound deep in his chest. “What did you take?”

“What do you mean?” I ask him, even as I continue to trail kisses along his skin.

“You have a healthy appetite for sex, little witch, but this is something else,” he says as I continue to rub myself against him. “I can feel your need clawing at me through our bond.”

“Witch’s brew,” I say. There was no such equivalent in the ancient world. “It draws out our magic, but it has some side effects.” Though those side effects are not usually this potent.

Once we break through the tree line, the moaning noises grow more numerous.

“This sounds like our camp after a celebration,” he says, harkening back to his people.

The noise intensifies the closer we get to my residence hall. By the time we step up to the door of my house, it sounds like there’s an orgy happening on the other side of it.

Once we enter, it’s clear that thereisan orgy happening in the library—RIP to any nearby books. Several other couples are scattered in the house’s den, and I can hear more in the spell kitchen and the dining room.

Somehow, even with my panty-less attire and my pussy juices all over Memnon, we’re still looking like the most modest couple here.

The sounds follow us up the stairs and down the hall.

It’s only once we enter my room and Memnon kicks the door shut that the sounds grow muffled. Sort of. I can still hear rhythmic thumping from a nearby room.

Memnon’s magic pours out of him and covers the walls, muffling the sound until it’s just us. Well, us and Nero.

The big cat is curled up in his bed, looking miserable at all the commotion. He gives me a betrayed look as Memnon finally sets me down.

“I’m sorry,” I say defensively. “I didn’t know it was going to be like this.”

His tail twitches with annoyance.

Apology apparently not accepted.

“The woods are full of more of the same stuff. You can go out there, but you’re still going to be annoyed.”

That’s all the permission he needs. My familiar gets up from his bed and lithely leaps onto the windowsill.

“Just be careful. There are ghosts and werewolves and at least one douchey fairy out there. If anyone tries to get close, protect yourself.”

Nero glances back at me and blinks his amber-green eyes. It’s the only indication that he heard my words at all. Then, with a final flick of his tail, he leaps onto the oak tree outside, and then he’s gone.

I turn my attention back to Memnon, who’s already gazing at me with naked longing in his eyes. My skin is becoming uncomfortably hot again. I don’t know when the brew will eventually let up, and now trapped in this room with Memnon, our past is reaching for me from the grave.

“Stay with me tonight,” I repeat. “That…is an order.”