I scowl at him, my magic twisting and snapping out of me with my irritation.
His eyes drop to my mouth, like he’s actually considering kissing me.
“I’ll be seeing you again soon, Empress,” he says, backing away from me. “Until then, sweet dreams.”
Memnon turns on his heel and walks away into the dark forest, his magic billowing around him.
CHAPTER 25
The moment he vanishes from view, I sprint back to my house, Nero following at my heels.
I haven’t heard Kane’s voice since he called out to me that once, and while I feel reassured that he survived the fall, I’m frightened by the silence that’s followed.
I get to the edge of the forest, and through the trees, I can see my residence hall. I choke on a cry when my eyes fall on Kane’s slumped form lying on the lawn between it and me. He’s exactly where Memnon dropped him, and he doesn’t look like he’s moved.
I race to him and fall to my knees, Nero joining me a moment later.
Kane is slumped on his side, his eyes closed.
“Kane?” I say. “Kane?”
He doesn’t respond.
I place my hands on his chest, not bothering to check his pulse or rouse him again. Unless he’s beyond saving, what I’m about to do should work.
Closing my eyes, I call on my magic. I’ve never done this before, but I have enough power and determination to give it a shot.
“Seal punctured flesh, mend broken bones, staunch the unbidden bleeding, and heal the wounds within.” I speak the words in Sarmatian, and though they don’t rhyme, the power of them—power steeped in age and obscurity—adds a sharp potency to the spell.
My palms tingle, and then thick, viscous magic seeps from them. It settles over Kane’s skin before being absorbed into his body.
I sense it healing him, but I don’t see the results right away, not until his crumpled form seems to expand, and it looks unnervingly like a balloon inflating. I can only imagine what sort of internal damage would cause his body to collapse in on itself in the first place.
Kane grunts as one of his legs untwists, and I have to stop myself from wincing on his behalf. I know shifters are used to their bodies rearranging themselves, but this looks violently painful.
A minute goes by, and I’m drawing in ragged breaths, my magic taxing me. I can feel a prickling throb in my head as memories are siphoned away. I won’t think about how many memories this has cost me.
Kane moans, then lets out a weak cough. Before he even opens his eyes, he calls out, “Selene!”
I release a shaky breath, my relief almost palpable.
“I’m right here, Kane,” I say soothingly, smoothing a hand down the side of his face. “I’m healing you. You were thrown a long way down.”
The shifter’s brows come together and he forces his eyes open. As soon as he sees me, he reaches for my hand. “You’re healing me?” he echoes.
I give his grip a squeeze. “Yeah.”
A muffled wet sound comes from his body as my power repairs something. Kane makes a pained low growl.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “So sorry.” Not just for the pain my magic is bringing him—pain he might be able to manage if he could shift and heal himself—but also for the fact I brought this upon him. I’ve known Memnon is a threat ever since he first confronted me.
A threat I kissed only minutes ago.
Ugh, what is wrong with me?
Kane closes his eyes. “I just want to know”—he swallows—“that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Kane. As long as you’re okay, I will be too.”
His hand squeezes mine.
You touch that boy, and he dies. Slowly.
I draw in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves because I have been touching that boy, and screw that sorcerer because I will keep touching him until he’s better. I want to rip Memnon apart from shoulder to hip. The fucking audacity he has to threaten me.
Kane’s eyes flutter. “Who was that who attacked us?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “And how did you get away?”
I glance over at the tree line, my skin still tingling from all the places Memnon touched it.
“It’s a long story,” I say. “He’s”—I was a king and you were my queen—“an old enemy.”
Briefly his eyes slide to my familiar, who stares back at Kane with a bored expression, as though he’d rather not be here. Which, he probably really would like to return to harassing cute little forest creatures, or whatever it was Nero was doing in the Everwoods.
I face my familiar. “You can go back to the woods, if you’d rather not stick around,” I say.
Nero tears his gaze away from the shifter to look at me for several long seconds. I don’t know what the look is supposed to mean, but the big cat proceeds to step into my space and rub his body against my own, his tail sliding along my neck as he does so.
Once he’s done, Nero prowls away, retreating into the darkness and leaving me and Kane alone.
The shifter returns his attention to me, and I think that maybe he’s going to comment on Nero, but instead, he says, “How does someone as nice as you”—the shifter sits up, grimacing a little as he does so—“have enemies?”
I wrap an arm around Kane’s back as he sways a little. “You okay?” I ask, ignoring the question.
The lycanthrope grits his teeth. “Good enough—thanks to your magic.” He sits up. “You can stop healing me now. I’ll do the rest myself.”
I do stop, the tendrils of my power snaking back into me. All that’s left of my effort is the unnerving throb of it beneath my skull.
“Do you still have your phone on you?” he asks.
I nod.
“Good,” he says. He leans forward, getting on his hands and knees, his blond hair hanging a little in front of his face. “Call the Politia and report this.”
I don’t think Kane used any magic in the order, but I feel a strange compulsion to promptly do as he says.
Maybe that’s why I hesitate. Or maybe it’s that I don’t really believe the Politia is going to stop some ancient sorcerer from doing as he pleases when it comes to me.
Kane’s pauses to gaze at me. “Selene, please. Call them. This man can’t think to abduct you from your home whenever he wants.”
He has a point—and that’s not even touching on the fact this same man threw Kane from a three-story window.
“Okay,” I say quietly.
The shifter’s back ripples in a way that’s not natural, and he groans. “If you’re squeamish about nudity,” he bites out, “you may want to look away.”
I feel a pang of regret that this topic even has to come up. If Memnon hadn’t been the world’s biggest cockblocker, this man would be several inches deep in me and I would have seen every last bit of him.
I sigh regretfully.
I don’t turn away, but I do use the moment to pull out my phone from my boot and call the Politia.
“Hi, this is Selene Bowers. I’d like to report a break-in and an assault at the Henbane Coven residence hall …”