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“My attackers…” I begin.

One of Memnon’s hands moves to my chin, and he tilts my face up to his.

“You don’t have to worry about that. They’re being dealt with.”

I go still. “What do you mean ‘they’re being dealt with’?” My breath is coming in shallower and shallower pants.

There’s a calculating gleam in his eyes. “I told you last night to mark your enemies. The ones you did mark, I found. What I do with them now…you don’t need to concern yourself with that.”

His words, which I think were supposed to be placating, only serve to spike my anxiety.

“Whoareyou?” My gaze searches his.

He smiles at me again, and there’s a vicious edge to it, despite the softness in his eyes. “You already know who I am. You may be the only person who truly knows,est amage.”My queen.

I push away from him then and run my hands through my hair. “I need to speak with the Politia, and I need a shower and to change—and breakfast would be nice.”

Memnon stares down at me, and the affectionate look in his eyes is unsettling. I sense that last night changed things between us for him as well.

“My spell took away your pain, but you need to rest, Selene.” Already, he’s trying to turn me around and steer me back to my bed. “I will bring you breakfast. The Politia can wait.”

Crap. You let an ancient supernatural king stay with you for one night and lend you his power, and suddenly, he gets all bossy and presumptuous.

Going to need to nip this in the bud.

“Um”—I put a hand on Memnon’s chest, my insides squealing at his warm skin and hard muscles—“no.”

That sparkle in Memnon’s eyes is still there, but he definitely looks irritated. “What, exactly, are you disagreeing with?”

I huff out a breath. “Listen, I don’t know how they did things back when they were busy inventing the wheel, but you don’t get to tell me what to do. Also—” I give his chest a gentle shove. He doesn’t so much as budge. “Last night and this morning were nice, but now you have to go.”

Maybe if I hustle him out fast enough, we won’t have to discuss the fact I’m seriously in his debt for all the magic he lent me.

Memnon narrows his eyes at me, though the corner of his mouth curls upward. He parts his lips to speak.

“Uh-uh.” I shake my head. “You don’t get to say whatever evil little thought gave you that look. Just”—another little push that gets me nowhere—“scoot.”

Memnon catches my hands, trapping them against his chest. Very deliberately, he steps into my space, and I am suddenly very aware of his naked torso and my skimpy lingerie.

“I will leave you on one condition,mate.”

I grind my teeth. I didn’t realize getting a sorcerer out of my room requiredconditions.

“You must vow to keep yourself safe.”

That’s…I guess I can do that. “I swear I’ll keep myself safe,” I say. Then I force a big fake smile. “Good?”

Memnon’s gaze drops to my lips, and those eyes narrow again. But after a moment, he nods at my words. And now he’s giving me that affectionate look again. It makes my skin heat and my core clench.

He releases my hands, but just as soon as they’ve left, his mouth finds mine, kissing me with all the command of the warlord king he claims to be.

I melt against those lips, the taste of him intoxicating. My hands fall to his waist, and I draw my fingers over his tattoos.

This man is one big walking Bad Idea, and I’m learning from last night that I have a weakness for them.

Memnon pulls away. He drags the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “Keep your vow, little witch,” he says.

With one final soft look, the sorcerer leaves me.