“A love like ours defies everything,” he breathes against my lips. “I am yours forever.”

The Politia do eventually come, though by then, the fight itself is long over.

Initially, I expect the supernaturals in the room to point fingers at Memnon, who held them all hostage for a time. Instead, the shifters seem to focus their wrath on the auction guests, and those individuals in evening wear seem to be defensively arguing back. I don’t think any of them recall that they were held captive by a raging sorcerer.

Once it becomes clear the officers want to detain everyone in the room for hours longer, my soul mate alters a few minds so the two of us can slip away and find Sybil.

Memnon and I find her sitting on the sidewalk outside the Equinox Building, near a line of ambulances with flashing lights. Sybil’s nestled between Sawyer’s thighs, an emergency blanket covering her, and her new mate is murmuring something to her and holding her close. It’s startlingly tender.

“Sybil,” I say softly, stepping away from Memnon. I pull the suit jacket he placed on me tighter around myself, trying to keep out the chill of the evening.

My friend glances up, and a small noise escapes her lips when she sees me. Shucking off her blanket, she rises to her feet, and then the two of us are moving toward each other.

We meet somewhere in the middle, and I sweep her into a hug. My best friend immediately begins to bawl in my arms.

“I thought—thought you w-were dead,” she chokes out.

I laugh a little as a few tears trickle out of my own eyes. “You can’t kill me that easily.”

I pull back, brushing her hair away from her face so I can see her better. Her earlier wounds are gone, but there are shadows in her eyes, things that not even magic can heal.

“We survived,” I whisper.

Her face crumples, and she nods, gripping me tighter.

My hands move to her upper arms, and I give them a squeeze. “Thank you,” I say softly, “for trying to protect me for so long. You are the best damn friend there ever was.”

Sybil’s sobs only grow louder, and I pull her back in for another hug.

The two of us hold each other for several minutes.

“Sybil.” Sawyer’s voice is low, rumbly, as he approaches us. “The car is here.” He lays a hand on my friend’s shoulder and runs his thumb over a patch of skin that causes a full-body shiver to course through Sybil. “We need to get you back. It’s not safe for you to be out here before you have mastered your shifts.”

What’s this now?

Sybil looks horrified as she pulls away from me. “I would never…” But as she speaks, her body spasms a little.

Sawyer steps in a little closer, and he makes a soft rumbling sound that causes my friend to relax. “Of course you wouldn’t. I would make sure both you and your best friend were safe.”

My eyes move between the two of them, and only now do I realize that the sweet embrace Memnon and I saw between Sybil and Sawyer a moment ago might’ve been more than just simple physical contact. Sawyer might’ve been containing her in case she accidentally shifted.

My best friend’s chin trembles, and I hate how fragile she appears. “Selene.” Her voice is hoarse with emotion. “The pack is going to keep me sequestered away until the next Sacred Seven. Apparently, this first month for witches can be…difficult.” Tears well in her eyes, and she looks scared. Everything she endured today couldn’t have helped that.

But the pack Sawyer is a part of is good, and I know they will take care of my friend until I can see her again. The weeks will go by in a blink of an eye, I reassure myself.

I tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re a badass. You’ll do great. I’m sure of it.”

Sybil’s eyes flit over my tattered dress and the puckered flesh of my forearms. “You’re okay?” she asks tentatively.

I nod and give her a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

She frowns but then forces out her own smile. “I’m so relieved.” She swallows, and her eyes are welling again. “You should go home, Selene,” she says, her voice hoarse with emotion. “It’s freezing out here. We can talk more later.” As she speaks, Sawyer begins to gently steer her away from me and toward a car parked behind the ambulances.

“I’m holding you to that,” I call out after her.

I stand there, watching as Sybil and Sawyer head toward their waiting ride. Memnon comes to my side then, one of his arms draping comfortingly around my shoulders.

“Hey, Selene,” Sybil calls out over her shoulder. She pauses to turn back to me. “Seven other supernaturals were saved from bonds tonight. You did that. Not the Politia, not even the shifters. You. I hope you know how proud I am to be your friend.” She flashes me a shaky smile and another tear leaks from my face. “Now get out of here, you freak,” she says fondly, “before you catch your death.”

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CHAPTER 52

The next morning, I wake to hands on my thighs. Those fingers dig into my skin.

Good morning, fiancée.

Memnon punctuates the words with a searing kiss to my clit, and I wake with a gasp. I nearly rise off the bed.

Memnon smiles against my sensitive flesh.

“I’ve decided, est amage, that as your husband, I’m going to make you come on my tongue at least once a day—maybe twice.”

“What?” I say dazedly. Last night returns to me then, but Memnon’s touch quickly eclipses the memories.

I begin to sit up, but the sorcerer pushes my torso back down, hauling my hips up closer to him.

“And since you can no longer command me,” he continues, “I’m going to control the pace of your orgasms, starting right now.”

Before I can respond or even come to grips with the fact that Memnon is holding my legs and ass like it’s his favorite teddy bear, the sorcerer kisses my clit again.

I cry out, my hands threading into his hair.

Memnon single-mindedly sucks on my clit, his tongue stroking the overly sensitive knot of flesh again and again.

The feeling is overwhelming.

Sensation is rising in me, and my core clenches uselessly.

“Memnon!” I sob out.

Est xsaya, he corrects. Say it, and you’ll get something besides just my mouth on your clit.

“Est xsaya,” I gasp out, hoping for a brief respite from the almost unbearable amount of stimulation coming from that nerve bundle between my thighs.

“Good woman.”

Again, I feel him smile against me, and his mouth moves down from my clit. If I thought, however, I’d get a break from the immense sensation, I assumed wrong. Memnon’s magic merely replaces his tongue, and it’s just as cunning, the blue power circling that knot of nerves again and again.

The sorcerer’s tongue circles my core before dipping inside.

He groans. “Missed the taste of your pussy.”

I’m writhing beneath him. I throw my head back. “Need you inside me.” It’s less a demand and more a plea.

“No,” he breathes against my skin. “Next time I come, you’ll be wearing white and I’ll be your husband.”

My breath hitches. Our unbreakable oath to marry—now that I’ve fallen for Memnon, it’s been enacted once more.

“But right now,” he continues, “you’ll come for me against my face like the good little witch you are.”

Maybe it’s Memnon’s confidence, or maybe I’m quite suggestable, or maybe I’m finally overwhelmed by sensation, but all it takes is another searing kiss of his and my orgasm shatters through me.

I cry out as I come, my fingers tightening in Memnon’s hair. I feel his grin as he greedily continues to eat me out through the aftershocks of my climax…and then beyond.

“Why aren’t you stopping?” I nearly weep the words out when it becomes clear he won’t.

There’s one more thing we’re going to do every day, he says down our bond as he feasts on me. I’m going to tell you I love you more than life itself, and you’re going to tell me those three magic words as well, starting today. And if you don’t, he continues, then I’ll simply eat you out until you do.