Bewitched (Bewitched, #1)(107)

“My empress is finally showing her true colors,” Memnon murmurs against my lips.

There’s nothing true about this at all—this is my worst side. But if my mate wants to cut himself on the sharpest parts of my personality, so be it.

When his tongue delves back into my mouth, I bite it. Memnon hisses, but again the action only serves to make him kiss me with more fervor. Fervor I return.

I can’t explain it. There is no explaining it. I hate his guts. I’d love nothing more than to kick him in the balls. But I’m also enjoying hate kissing the shit out of his lips. I’m pretty sure I’d be fine taking this hate all the way to the end of desire.

I think I’ve just unlocked a new kink.

Memnon pulls away. “You will know me in all ways,” he vows.

His thoughts must be in the same vein as mine—that, or he heard me through our bond.

While it’s fine for me to fantasize about using Memnon to fulfill my own desires, like hell am I going to let him do the same thing.

I push the sorcerer away, his hand slipping effortlessly away from my neck.

Hate-fucking fantasies be damned—

“If I can’t break the bond, I’ll simply cast a spell to shrivel up your dick,” I threaten him.

Memnon smiles, a bead of blood gathering at the corner of his lip. “It’s cute that you think you haven’t already tried.”

That has my eyes widening.

He wipes the bead of blood away, flicking his eyes over me.

“Release,” he says in Sarmatian.

Immediately, his magic lifts itself from my body, no longer anchoring me to the table.

His eyes settle on me. “I love you, little witch,” he says, his expression a touch sad. “More than all the world. That is my deepest truth, and it’s one I should have told you again and again as I once did.

“And I’m sorry you have to bear the weight of that love.” His features shift a little, growing determined. “But you will bear it.”

With that, he heads for the doorway.

“Three days,” he calls over his shoulder. “That’s all you have left, Empress.”

And then he’s gone.





Those three days pass in the blink of an eye.

Three days to try to sort out my own tangled emotions. Three days to fixate on my revenge. Three days to wonder what Memnon means to do on the night of the ball.

I now stare at the gown spread out on my bed, my mood grim.

I don’t want to face Memnon again.

Maybe that’s cowardly. It’s still the truth.

He is my worst nightmare, but I’m also coming to find he’s a huge weakness of mine because he saved me and he cared for me and a part of me—a twisted, wayward part of me—likes him. Fuck, I more than like him. I’m beyond attracted to the man, and I crave the sound of his commanding voice and the feel of those arms around me. All he has to do is kiss me or whisper a few pretty words in my ear, and I’ll reconsider every hateful thought I’ve had of him.

I’m terrified that will happen again tonight when I’m seeking out my revenge.

In the distance, I hear someone tromping up the stairs, followed by the creaking of floorboards as they head down my hall.

Seconds later, Sybil opens the door. “Hey, babe!” she hollers as she bustles in, carrying her dress and shoes as well as a massive tote bag full of what looks to be makeup and maybe hair supplies.

She drops it all on the bed. “Fuck, I’m excited for tonight, aren’t…?” Her voice trails off as soon as she sees my face. “No, no, no, Selene,” she says.

I touch my cheek. “What?”

“I’m not going to let you panic about tonight. This is your night for revenge. I want to see wicked grins and evil looks only.”

I put my face in my hands and groan. “I’m nervous,” I admit.

Sybil comes over to me and places her hands on my shoulders. “Your soul mate thinks you’re conniving and cruel. The Politia thinks you could be a killer. You’re obviously neither of those things, but fuck it.” She gives my shoulders a shake. “We’re going to embrace it for one night.”

She releases me and turns to the items on the bed. From her bag she pulls out a bottle of vodka and two cans of sparkling juice. “We’re going to drink, we’re going to do each other’s makeup and hair and have fucking fun dressing up like villainesses for a night. What do you say?”

I take a deep breath. “Pour me a shot.”





By the time I reach for my dress, I’m giggling.

I may have had a touch too much alcohol.

Our hair and makeup—done. All that’s left is pulling on our dresses. I walk over to mine while Sybil grabs hers, my legs a little shaky.

The black dress is floor-length with a small train and a slit all the way up to nearly the top of my thigh. The back is even sexier, held together by only two crisscrossing straps, leaving the rest of my skin down to the small of my back exposed.

There’s a sheen to the material that makes it look a touch iridescent, and it slides around me like a serpent. Now that I have it on, I do feel more than a little wicked.

“I know you have a love affair with high-tops and combat boots.” Sybil turns to me in her ruby-red dress, the gemstones on it glittering as they catch the light. “But for tonight, let’s do something a bit fancier,” she says, moving over to my closet.