Page 131

A muscle in Memnon’s jaw keeps jumping.

“The spell circle,” he finally says. “It took place in this house?”

I nod. The mention of it has my pulse speeding. I remember all over again how there’s a direct tunnel into our house, one those masked witches can easily use even now.

I’m not going to think about the fact they may even be fellow coven sisters. That thought is downright chilling. As it is, I have to live with the fact Kasey was one of them.

Kasey, whom I haven’t heard from since last night.

“Take me to where the spell circle happened,” Memnon commands.

I should be bristling at the order. Instead, the sorcerer feels like a rudder keeping me on course.

I leave my room and lead Memnon through the house. Several witches see us pass, and one by one, they fall silent as they take in the man at my back. He’s huge and ferociously beautiful, and I’m sure they can sense the danger rolling off him.

I catch sight of their expressions, and while some look a little nervous, they also seem…interested?

Immediately, my hackles rise, and a little bit of my magic sifts out of me, thickening in the air.

Shit, Selene, are you getting jealous over your wicked stalker?

An arm wraps around my chest, and I’m drawn back against Memnon.

A moment later his lips are at my ear. “Possessiveness looks good on you, mate,” he says, nipping my ear.

I glare at him over my shoulder before pushing his arm away. “I’m not your mate,” I whisper under my breath. “And don’t bite my ear.”

Memnon’s eyes twinkle. “At least you’re not in denial about being possessive,” he says, those sensual lips curving into a smirk. “We can agree on that.”

I’m about to argue with him on that, but then we pass another witch who gives Memnon a moonstruck look, and I turn my glare at her.

I hear soft prideful laughter at my back.

“Shut up.”

I may be a little possessive.

CHAPTER33

When we getto the Ritual Room, I let Memnon in first, holding the door open before following him inside.

His boots echo against the floor as he peers around, taking in the dark walls and the rows of chairs.

I head over to the back of the room, the hairs along my arms rising as the previous night comes back to me.

“We went through this wall,” I say, touching the solid surface that glimmers faintly as the spells running along it catch the light. For a moment, I marvel that magic can make doorways appear and disappear at will.

Memnon comes over to me before stopping so close that his shoulder brushes mine.

My breath escapes me in a rush, and I feel a fevered urge to reach for him and taste him all over again. I’ve only kissed him, but I’ve dreamed of more. How would the real thing hold up against my imagination?

Memnon glances over at me, arching an eyebrow.

“What?” I say defensively.

Did he hear those thoughts?

He shakes his head and returns his attention to the wall. He runs a hand over it, and I get to appreciate the golden ring he wears and his scarred forearms—