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His thoughts must be in the same vein as mine—that, or he heard me through our bond.

While it’s fine for me to fantasize about using Memnon to fulfill my own desires, like hell am I going to let him do the same thing.

I push the sorcerer away, his hand slipping effortlessly away from my neck.

Hate-fucking fantasies be damned—

“If I can’t break the bond, I’ll simply cast a spell to shrivel up your dick,” I threaten him.

Memnon smiles, a bead of blood gathering at the corner of his lip. “It’s cute that you think you haven’t already tried.”

That has my eyes widening.

He wipes the bead of blood away, flicking his eyes over me.

“Release,” he says in Sarmatian.

Immediately, his magic lifts itself from my body, no longer anchoring me to the table.

His eyes settle on me. “I love you, little witch,” he says, his expression a touch sad. “More than all the world. That is my deepest truth, and it’s one I should have told you again and again as I once did.

“And I’m sorry you have to bear the weight of that love.” His features shift a little, growing determined. “But youwillbear it.”

With that, he heads for the doorway.

“Three days,” he calls over his shoulder. “That’s all you have left, Empress.”

And then he’s gone.

* * *

Those three days pass in the blink of an eye.

Three days to try to sort out my own tangled emotions. Three days to fixate on my revenge. Three days to wonder what Memnon means to do on the night of the ball.

I now stare at the gown spread out on my bed, my mood grim.

I don’t want to face Memnon again.

Maybe that’s cowardly. It’s still the truth.

He is my worst nightmare, but I’m also coming to find he’s a huge weakness of mine because he saved me and he cared for me and a part of me—a twisted, wayward part of me—likeshim. Fuck, I more than like him. I’m beyond attracted to the man, and I crave the sound of his commanding voice and the feel of those arms around me. All he has to do is kiss me or whisper a few pretty words in my ear, and I’ll reconsider every hateful thought I’ve had of him.

I’m terrified that will happen again tonight when I’m seeking out my revenge.

In the distance, I hear someone tromping up the stairs, followed by the creaking of floorboards as they head down my hall.

Seconds later, Sybil opens the door. “Hey, babe!” she hollers as she bustles in, carrying her dress and shoes as well as a massive tote bag full of what looks to be makeup and maybe hair supplies.

She drops it all on the bed. “Fuck, I’m excited for tonight, aren’t…?” Her voice trails off as soon as she sees my face. “No, no, no, Selene,” she says.

I touch my cheek. “What?”

“I’m not going to let you panic about tonight. This is your night for revenge. I want to see wicked grins and evil looks only.”

I put my face in my hands and groan. “I’m nervous,” I admit.

Sybil comes over to me and places her hands on my shoulders. “Your soul mate thinks you’re conniving and cruel. The Politia thinks you could be a killer. You’re obviously neither of those things, but fuck it.” She gives my shoulders a shake. “We’re going to embrace it for one night.”