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Right.Right.

I close my door, then turn to face him once more. My heart beats fast as I take him in, from the top of his wavy hair to the bottom of his shit-kicking boots. Every line of him is violent and beautiful and intimidating and overbearing.

I’m bonded to that.

“Little witch,” Memnon says softly, and his eyes have gentled. “You don’t need to look so frightened.”

I exhale. He’s right.This is all going to be fi—

“I promise I only bite when you ask me to,” he adds.

A small semihysterical sound slips from my lips, and I take a step back.

I’m not ready for this conversation. I thought I might be, but I think I need more time.

Memnon puts up a hand. “Wait, Selene, fight me, curse me—well, maybe not that one—just please don’t run.”

I hesitate, unused to this side of Memnon. He’s being raw and vulnerable with me. I drop my book bag then and scrub my face with my hands.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what,Amage?”

I drop my hands and look at him. “Be a soul mate. Come to terms with the fact you’re it for me.”

Memnon sets my notebook aside. “You say that like this is a burden.” He shakes his head and stands, closing in on me. “This is what men kill and die for. What no amount of wealth can buy. Love. One that could set whole nations on fire.” He takes my chin then, giving me a look that’s as close to adoration as one can get. “You cannot fathom it, little witch, only because you cannot remember that you once had it. ButIremember.”

This close to me, Memnon is hypnotic, compelling.

“It didn’t end well for you though,” I say.

“End…” he muses, dragging the word out on his lips. “An era ended.Wedid not.”

He’s looking at my lips now, and an ache starts up within me, one that only he can soothe.

“You threatened me,” I say. “And I know you must still be angry with me.”

“Oh, I am,” he agrees. “But I grow eager for my vengeance to be sated and for this era to end too. You and I, Empress, we are eternal.”

My magic is seeping out from my skin, as is his. The two twist and cur around us, the colors blending until a dusky purple remains.

I want to kiss him again—hell, Ialwayswant to kiss the man—but this feels too much like throwing myself off a cliff. I don’t know where I’m going to land or if I’m going to like it at all.

I pull away from Memnon, forcing my magic back inside me.

Memnon’s gaze moves over me, and he looks a little sad, but there’s also a lot of understanding in his eyes. “I keep forgetting how skittish you are in the beginning,” he murmurs.

My brows draw together.

“When I found you in Rome,” he continues, “you were nervous around me too. But that changed, and it will again. Once you remember.”

“Remember?” I echo.

“Our past,” he says, backing away from me.

You give an ancient sorcerer a single crumb of hope, and he starts asking for the whole damn feast.

“That’s not possible,” I say.