“Thank you,” he says, and he resumes walking once more.

He approaches the bed where Nero is already waiting, and his magic pulls back the sheets.

“I’m dirty,” I realize. I’m still covered in blood and grime.

I’ve barely spoken when the sorcerer’s magic spills over me, scouring my body. I feel the sticky bloodstains vanish away, and I can only imagine what else the spell cleaned off.

“Better?” Memnon asks.

I nod.

His power moves to my feet, and it tugs off my boots and socks, and they fall to the ground.

From Memnon’s closet, one of his T-shirts floats out, passing over the bed, where Nero tries to nip at it.

Memnon’s magic drifts over me once more, and the outfit I wear melts off my body. His power is still hiding my nudity when his shirt slips itself over my head. I reach out to thread my arms through the armholes.

“You look good in my clothes, est amage,” he says as the shirt settles over my torso and his magic clears. “You always have.”

I give him a whisper of a smile, and for the first time tonight, I see Memnon grin. I think it’s purely in response to my own smile.

He settles me into the bed, then retreats.

“Memnon.” I hate how panicked I feel at his absence.

“I need to remove my own clothes.”

Right, of course.

I give him that same anxious nod and watch him undress as Nero nestles in close.

I pet my panther, but my entire body stays on edge until Memnon, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, slips into the bed with me.

I flip onto my side to more fully face Memnon. There’s so much I want to say to him, so much I saw, so much Memnon did. I can’t seem to put words to any of it at the moment, so I simply take one of his hands and clasp it between mine.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I brush a kiss against his knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he says softly, searching my face. “I will always come for you, and I will always fight for you.” He wraps a hand around my clasped ones. “Little witch,” he breathes, “please tell me what happened before I found you.”

Another shudder works its way through my system.

I can’t.

“Read my mind.” It’s a plea, one that would allow me to avoid lingering longer than necessary on what happened this evening. It only registers a few seconds later, when his hands move to my head, that I gave him a command, one he’s forced to follow.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m sorry. Read my mind only if you want.”

“Selene.” As Memnon speaks, his magic sifts out of him, the inky blue clouds of it pooling in the air. “Stop apologizing to me.”

His power creeps toward me, moving as though it has a mind of its own. I draw in a breath, and as easy as that, the magic slips in, coating my mouth and plunging down my throat.

I brace my hands on his forearms as the night flickers behind my eyes. Bones breaking, screaming, suffocating pain. I swallow down the taste of bile, my body shaking all over again from the memory.

His eyes begin to glow and his hair lifts. That burning gaze finds mine.

“The sorceress is lucky she’s dead,” he says solemnly.

I tense.

His thumbs stroke the sides of my face, even as his power continues to rage through him. “I will draw our enemies out and break them one by one,” he says, his eyes hypnotic. “I won’t stop until I make chalices from their skulls and coats from their skin. I will not rest until the entire Fortuna clan is nothing but a fucking memory.”

These are monstrous promises, but for once, they don’t frighten me as they should. The Fortunas have built an entire empire on abusing supernaturals. They deserve the ruthless attentions of someone like Memnon.

I squeeze his forearms, a tear slipping out.

“This,” he finishes, “I swear to you.”

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CHAPTER 39

Yesterday, I woke as one person.

Today, I am another.

I feel a hardness to me, one that wasn’t there before. If yesterday, I was exposed and vulnerable, today, new armor has grown back. The world exists on one side of it, and on the other…the only things that exist within that armor are me and my bonds.

Memnon must notice this change because I’ve caught him studying me a few times since we’ve woken up, a curious look on his face, like he’s trying to figure me out.

Nero sticks to me like glue.

There are a thousand things the sorcerer and I need to discuss, but right now, all I want is some semblance of normalcy to follow the nightmare of last night.

I pad into the kitchen, opening up cupboards and making myself at home. Since I started living here, cookies and crackers, chips and granola bars have filled up what originally was a bare pantry.

Today, there’s cereal.

I raise an eyebrow when I take a long look at the various colorful boxes that were definitely made with kids in mind.

After a moment, I pull out one of them. “Is this what you think of me?” I ask, holding the box up.

Memnon lifts his chin. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

I give him a look as I close the pantry door. It’s annoying how accurately he has me pegged. My heart might have iced over, but I will always have a soft spot for colorful, oversugared cereal.

“I couldn’t buy the one with those round chocolate balls,” he adds, grabbing a bowl and spoon. “It looked too much like goat shit,” he says, setting the items on the table.

“I’ve never once considered that in my life,” I say, watching him move to the refrigerator. Since last night, he’s pulled on some loose-fitting pants, but his torso remains gloriously, distractingly bare.

“I will not feed my queen food that’s offensive to look at,” he says, opening the refrigerator door. “Now sit down and let me serve you.”

I cringe at that word. Serve.

“I can do it myself,” I say, carrying the box of cereal over to the table.

“Believe it or not, my queen, I want to do this.” Memnon comes to my side and sets the milk down. “Stop assuming otherwise.”

Memnon has me sit there while he pours my cereal, then milk, into my bowl.

I stare down at it. “Who takes care of you?” I ask offhandedly.

“Hmm?” he says. He’s already drifting away, moving to the stove where a teapot rests.

I turn away from my breakfast and toward my soul mate. “Who takes care of you?” I repeat.

He glances up, meeting my gaze.

The answer is clear.

No one.

We used to take care of each other, and he had family and friends and a kingdom to give him whatever he needed. But that’s all gone now.

Though my mind still recoils from what happened last night, I force myself to remember the police officers, the dead bodies…

There’s a trail of evidence Memnon left behind when he came for me. He saved me from a nightmarish situation, and he might’ve inadvertently gotten himself into one. And despite his staggering power, not even Memnon is omnipotent.

I feel that armor I woke up with, and I feel our bond within it.

I shake my head as I look at him. “That changes today. From this moment on, I also take care of you."

This puts me on the wrong side of the law. Shit, it puts me on the wrong side of a lot of things. I don’t care.

Memnon gazes at me, and I don’t think he breathes. I can feel a sharp, painfully sweet emotion through our bond. I know from experience it’s one that cannot be formed into words.

My own emotions get lodged in my throat. I don’t want this to be a big deal. I just want this to be the way things are between us: from now on, we take care of each other. It’s not just one way.

My magic drifts out of me, a tendril of it reaching for one of the cupboards and withdrawing a bowl. Another rope of it opens a drawer and removes a spoon. Both items float back to the table and clatter onto the spot next to me. My power pushes out a chair.