Then punish me, he demands.

I part my lips, unsure what to say, when a sound like nails on a chalkboard saves me from having to answer. It comes from the other side of the closed bedroom door.

SCRIIIITCH. SCRIIIITCH.

There’s only one creature who makes that noise.

“Nero!” I say excitedly. I didn’t think my panther would be up for a while still. But at the sound of his claws, my heart nearly leaps from my chest.

Before I can scramble out of bed, Memnon’s indigo magic reaches out and opens the door.

Nero walks in silently, and once I see him, I slide out of Memnon’s bed and rush over to my panther, only belatedly realizing I’m still very naked and a little dizzy. I wrap my arms around Nero anyway, who leans into my embrace, nuzzling against my cheek, then giving it an abrasive lick.

“How dare you almost die on me,” I whisper, squeezing him tighter.

He rubs his head against me again, then pulls away. At first, I think it’s because he’s only so touchy-feely with his emotions, but then he pads over to the far side of the bed, where Memnon is, and he places his head on the edge of it.

The sorcerer’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and Memnon reaches out and rubs Nero’s head. “You’re a true warrior,” the sorcerer says gruffly, “You owe me no thanks for healing you.”

Ah, fuck. This man is definitely going to make me fall for him.

Memnon glances at me, a small smile on his lips. That’s my deepest hope, my queen.

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CHAPTER 25

“You cannot go back to Henbane,” Memnon says.

The two of us are in the sorcerer’s kitchen.

Memnon is currently shirtless, his back to me as he cooks bacon on the stove. I forgot how good of a cook he is; it was one of his hobbies way back when.

“I’m sorry, what?” I say, my eyebrows rising.

He turns from the stove, crossing his arms over his rippling torso. I can hear the crackle and pop of frying bacon, and the oil must be hitting his back, but the sorcerer doesn’t move and doesn’t flinch.

He lifts his chin. “You cannot stay there.”

Without meaning to, my eyes have drifted down his chest, following the flow of his tattoos.

Stop staring at his pretty muscles.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” he echoes, narrowing his gaze.

I have to force myself to not react to that word. We both now know I often use it when things aren’t fine.

I brace myself for his retort.

Instead, he says, “Yes, I can believe that. You are fearsome.” There’s no mockery in his words. “But how about Nero?”

His question is a sucker punch to the stomach.

Nero.

My gaze moves to the woods beyond the window, where my familiar bounded off to ten minutes ago. Even though this is a different patch of forest, one Memnon has insisted is safe, I’ve still been worried about my panther’s well-being ever since he left.

I rub my forehead and take a deep breath.

“Damn it,” I mutter.

Memnon’s right. Even if I warded my room within an inch of my life, and even if I was willing to take on whatever skirmishes might come my way…I’m not willing to risk Nero. Not again.

I scowl. “Did you know this would happen?” I ask, perhaps a touch accusingly.

The sorcerer’s expression has softened, and his eyes look almost pitying. “Not this specifically. But, est amage, we have always had enemies. This is not new or surprising to me.”

My eyes drift over his kitchen again. Memnon watches me like a hawk, drinking in my appraisal of his place. The loud pop from the pan rouses him, and he turns back to the stove.

“So somehow separate from all your plotting, I find myself in a position where I have to stay with you,” I say to his back, my eyes trailing over the tattoos covering it.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he responds, rotating his head just enough so I can see his scarred profile. “You are a former queen,” he reminds me. “You do as you fucking please.” He pauses to turn off the burner and move the pan away from the heat. Then he swivels back to me. “But I want you here. This is your house. That”—he nods in the direction of the bedroom—“is your room and your bed.”

“Our bed,” I correct. “It would be our bed.”

Memnon’s gaze burns with intensity. “You’re the one with the power, Selene. If you don’t want me in it, you can command me to sleep anywhere else,” he says. “You are the one in control.”

It’s the illusion of control, nothing more.

“This house and the woods around it are protected, and here, you and Nero will both be safe,” Memnon continues. “And in the meantime, we’ll work together to find this Lia, and we’ll stop her.”

Presumably then I’ll be able to return to the residence hall.

I take a deep breath. “Okay.” I nod. “I’ll stay.” Just until it’s safe for Nero. “I’ll still need to go back to campus,” I add, “at least some of the time. There are things that I need.” Such as my clothes, my notebooks, my laptop, and my textbooks. “And I’m going to continue attending class,” I say, lifting my chin a little. I fought hard to be admitted to Henbane. I’m not going to let a few rogue witches ruin it all for me.

Perhaps if the sorcerer were a modern man, he’d find the idea of me going back to campus supremely foolish. But Memnon is a warlord and a king. He has brazenly walked among enemies and would only assume I’d do the same. It’s not in his nature—in any Sarmatian’s nature—to be cowed by an opponent.

The sorcerer crosses the kitchen and stops close enough to tilt my face up to his, his gold rings pressing against my skin. “Fair enough, Selene,” he says, taking in my features. “But if you must be among foes, do not give them this tempered, modern treatment. I don’t care what compassionate thoughts fill that heart of yours. If someone so much as looks at you wrong, you use your magic, and you aim to kill.”

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CHAPTER 26

Another witch is missing.

I learn that ten minutes after I arrive on campus, right as I’m settling into my seat in Spellcasting 101.

The news steals the air from my lungs. Could the missing witch be one of Nero’s attackers? There was at least one whose throat he ripped out.

Goddess, she had to have died. I try not to panic in my seat as I remember that. What happened to the body? Is it still out there, waiting to be found? Could she have survived? Or is she the missing witch, her body moved sometime in the last twelve hours?

Throughout the lecture, I woodenly take down notes, but I’m not really listening. Instead my mind is turning and turning. There have been murdered witches, and there are now missing witches—Kasey is one of them, and now there’s another one. Both disappearances happened right after battles. Could whoever they’re working for be cleaning up any evidence? Or could it be…

I need to take care of a few things, est amage. I will be back soon.

Maybe that wasn’t just a dream. Maybe Memnon legitimately left.

I reach out to the sorcerer now. Did you move any bodies from the forest last night?

Is this an intrusive thought, or is this my little witch? Memnon responds.

I glance heavenward. Memnon.

I feel the warmth of his smile down our bond.

Did I mention that I miss you?

Memnon, be serious.

I can almost feel his next words—I am serious.

But he lets them go unspoken. Instead, he says, I went back and removed any evidence that might be incriminating, he says evasively.

Including bodies?

I do believe there was a body involved. Maybe even two.

My stomach turns over. Witches died last night, and while my blood still boils that they tried to kill my familiar, I feel nauseous at the thought of more lives lost.