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Memnon releases me, moving his gaze to my bookshelf, where my life is burning away. Many of the memories in those books have already been eaten up by my magic. Those notes and drawings were all I had left of them.

Despite his words, I do try to use my power to put out the flames. Just like he warned, my magic does nothing but momentarily make the flames flicker.

The acrid smell of smoke fills the air, the plumes of it mingling with Memnon’s magic. Despite that, the fire doesn’t seem to be spreading. My shelved novels and textbooks—and hell, the shelves themselves—sit there intact. Only my precious journals burn.

I stare up at the two notebooks still in midair, watching page after page blacken and char, scorched bits flaking off and fluttering to the floor.

In the distance, I can hear another woman saying,“You smell something?”

Her companion replies, “Probably just Juliette burning another spell.”

My cheeks are wet. I didn’t even realize I was crying. “Why are you doing this?” I say to Memnon. My life was already a dumpster fire before he entered it. “Not even my queen gets away with ruining my life.”

I feel myself shaking, though everything else in me is disturbingly calm.

“I hate you,” I whisper.

I really do.

A muscle in his jaw jumps, but his eyes look confident, certain. “Only because you cannot remember that you once loved me,” he says.

Does he not see? He is standing in my room, ruining my life, and breaking my heart, and he thinks some lifetime thousands of years ago matters to me?

“Fuck the past, andfuck you.” There is so much more bottled up in me, so many emotions I can’t put words to.

Memnon must feel them churning inside me through our bond because he says, “Do you think this is the worst I can do, little witch?” His eyes are sharp as knives. “I have watered entire fields with the blood of men I’ve killed. This is theleastof my vengeance.”

His eyes flick to what’s left of my two journals that hover in the air.

“Let’s see how well you fare without your precious books. You have until the Samhain Ball.”

I have until the Samhain Ball towhat? Beg some more? Come groveling his way? Whatever he wants, hell will freeze over before he gets it.

“You made a mistake crossing me.” The words come from deep within me, my power swirling out of me as I speak.

The look Memnon gives me blazes with satisfaction. “There’smy queen.”

I grimace at him. “I would rather spend a thousand lifetimes forgetting my past than spendoneremembering yours.”

I think I might’ve imagined it, but I swear I saw him flinch.

“You can rot, Memnon.”

He steps up to me, his eyes stormy. A muscle in his cheek clenches and unclenches. “Tough words, witch. Let’s see if you can stand by them.” He moves to the door, even as my notebooks continue to burn.

“I’ll see you at the Samhain Ball, Empress.”

And then he’s gone.

CHAPTER38

It takes onlya handful of minutes before the crackle of fire quiets.

Smoke drifts from the notebooks that now lie in scorched heaps on my shelves.

My levitating notebooks fall to the ground, disintegrating into ash when they hit the floorboards.

I make a small noise at the sight. I can still feel wetness on my cheeks, but I’m too determined to see what’s left of my journals to pay much attention to my emotions.