I have leverage of my own.

Memnon, I reach out down our bond.

I feel warmth from his end of the magical cord. I’m sure he thinks this is me caving to his wishes.

Before he has a chance to speak, I say, Meet me in the Slain Maiden’s Meadow in an hour. I… I close my eyes, forcing the next part out. I need your help.

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CHAPTER 5

The ache in my bones is getting worse.

Earlier, I assumed it was exhaustion and the aftereffects of overdrawing my power. I assumed the spells Memnon cast to remove my pain wore off. I assumed, I assumed, I assumed.

But I was wrong.

This is what Memnon had been hinting at when he wanted me to come to him.

I’m starting to feel the effects of the unbreakable oath.

I blow out a breath as I weave my way between the massive evergreen trees, dread gathering in my stomach. I knew there were consequences to not upholding a magical oath. I didn’t realize they made you feel like shit.

I don’t know how much longer I will be able to ignore the vow before I end up begging the sorcerer to marry me, just to ease the pain.

Between the boughs of the trees ahead of me, I catch sight of Slain Maiden’s Meadow. The last time I came here, I wasn’t yet a student. The field looks lovelier now, in the dying light, the sunset painting the dead grass golden.

And there, in the middle of the field, my soul mate waits, his back to me.

Memnon is the sound of straining leather. He’s the smell of horse-sweat, grass, and man. He’s sun-warmed skin and wind-tousled hair. He’s a part of me just as much as Roxilana is, and no amount of magic or anger can change that.

As though sensing my gaze on him, he turns, his eyes lighting when they meet mine.

Memnon kisses me fiercely as he sinks into me. There’s only me, him, the endless grasslands around us, and the heavens above us.

“I am yours forever,” he breathes against my lips. He pulls away to search my gaze, his features bathed in the soft orange glow from my magic. “Forever.”

Can he feel it? The past pressing on us like it has a presence of its own? Does it close up his throat like it does mine? Or am I the only one drowning in these memories?

“Little witch,” he says, watching me as I cross the last of the distance between us. “You beckoned.”

A shiver courses down my back at the low, honeyed sound of his voice.

“We need to talk,” I say, switching to Sarmatian. Out here in these woods, we have more seclusion than my residence hall, but anyone could be listening.

I let my magic pour out of me. The pale orange glow wraps around us like a blanket, forming a magical barrier to block out sound. I don’t incant the spell, but it’s there nonetheless, woven into my magic through my intent alone.

Memnon reaches out, stroking my power like it’s a cat. “I’m listening,” he says, his eyes flicking from my magic to me.

“When the curse was lifted, did you see into my past?” I ask.

The sorcerer’s brow furrows. Whatever he thought I was going to say, this isn’t it.

“I saw your recovered memories from this life,” he responds slowly. “But once the curse moved to your first life and you started to weep, I lost the connection.”

He’d been wiping away my tears and reassuring me I was okay. I’d almost forgotten those details.

“So you didn’t see how that life ended,” I say, just to be sure.

His gaze moves between my eyes and my mouth. “No, I didn’t.”

“What do you think happened?” I ask.

Memnon’s expression grows grim. “I haven’t the faintest clue. That is what I still wish to know. Why you cursed me to endless sleep and what you did after I was gone.”

I can hear other, more personal questions that he won’t voice but still echo down our bond.

Did you regret burying me alive? Did you betray me for another? Did you fall in love with someone else? Were you happy?

“How did I betray you?” I prod him. “Tell me exactly the steps you believe I took to entomb you.”

Memnon’s eyes narrow as he looks at me, a muscle in his cheek jumping. “Selene, if this is some sort of trick⁠—”

“Oh, there’s a trick involved, but it wasn’t made by my hand.”

His brows rise, caught off guard by my response.

“Tell me,” I insist. “How did I fuck you over? I want to know every detail you believe I carried out to place you in that sarcophagus.”

The sorcerer’s jaw tightens with indignation. “This is my life you ruined⁠—”

“No,” I say viciously. “It is my life that you ruined. Two thousand years ago along the banks of the Amazon River, I died to keep you safe from a horrible fate! There was no grand plan. There was no life after you. I protected you, and what did you do when you woke? You blamed me. You attacked me. You betrayed me and everything we once were with your vengeance.”

Memnon looks as though I’ve struck him.

Goddess, but my bones ache, and I’m breathing heavily. All around us, my magic twists and writhes with my churning emotions.

“What?” Memnon finally says, his voice hushed.

“You wish to understand the past and my motives better?” I grab his hands and place them on either side of my head. “See them for yourself.”

Memnon’s hands flex against my skin, wisps of his magic curling out from beneath his palms as though he can’t quite contain his emotions. Down our bond, I feel the first tendrils of his rising horror.

I don’t think he wants to believe me, nor do I think he wants to read my mind. Not now that he knows he might not like what he finds.

“Do it,” I insist, shaking his hands a little from where I still grip them. My eyes are pricking, and I didn’t mean to get worked up over this. I just wanted his help, but this is how I get it without owing him anything. This is how the sorcerer understands that he owes me. The truth of our past—and our first demise—makes everything he’s done to me so much worse.

Memnon works his jaw, his scar tugging a little at the action. His smoky amber eyes hold my gaze for several seconds.

Finally, he bows his head, then nods, his fingers flexing against me again. “All right, Empress. As you wish.” He adjusts his hold. “Repeat after me,” he says. “Pes datapzaka kubiwapsasava vi’savva ziwatunutasa vak mi’tavekasavak ozakos detgap.”

I bare the last memories of my first life for you to see.

I recite the incantation, gripping his hands tightly, my heart beating fast as I prepare to relive this particular memory.

Memnon’s magic rushes from his hands, the blue tendrils of it slipping into my mouth and up my nostrils. I arch my back as it moves to my head, my hands tightening against his.

And then that final, fateful day of my last life unfolds right before my eyes.

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CHAPTER 659 AD, BOSPORUS, CRIMEA

ROXILANA

Roxi…

My eyes snap open, and I stare at the dark ceiling of the palace bedroom, Memnon’s voice ringing in my ears. A deep, inexplicable sense of dread has lodged itself in my marrow. Was it a bad dream that I dragged with me from sleep? Something else?

I take several shallow breaths, trying to get my bearings, then I reach for Memnon. The other side of the bed, where my soul mate should be, is empty.

Memnon? I call down our bond.

All that comes back to me is silence.

He had woken me, I’m sure of it, so where is he?

“Memnon?” I call out softly, thinking maybe he’s somewhere in this dark room. But the space feels empty, and no one answers me back.

Did he stay up late to strategize future battles with his blood brothers and other high ranking officials? It wouldn’t be the first time.