Thick indigo plumes of Memnon’s own magic pour out of him before pooling around his sprawled body and creeping across the floor.
Even with my strikes and the spells he’s already placed on the room, his own power seems to be growing.
I step up to him, each hit of mine only making me angrier and more resolved. Hurting him doesn’t feel good. I want it to—fuck, how I want it to—but it doesn’t, and that only seems to fuel my rage.
I scowl down at him.
The mighty sorcerer touches his chest, where his blood is spilling. He looks at the red liquid on his fingertips, then at me, his eyes glittering. “Have I told you, mate, that battles have always been my favorite sort of foreplay?”
His magic descends on me at once, throwing me back. I hit the ground hard, and the air leaves my lungs as my body slides across the dance floor.
Around us, the other guests are panicking, their shouts and cries filling the air, along with their magic. Memnon’s power wraps around the entire building, barricading everyone inside.
I haven’t even stopped sliding when my own magic strikes out at him again, the wordless spell lashing against him like a whip.
Memnon grunts at the impact, but then I see him pull himself to his feet.
More magic pours down my arms. “Explode.” I sling the spell from where I lie.
This time, a tendril of Memnon’s power swats it away, and it explodes against a cluster of trees and shrubs, blowing them apart and causing the nearby guests to scream.
I force myself to my feet as Memnon’s own shoes click against the ground. He runs his hands through his hair, looking bloody and violent in the most primal of ways.
I try to draw on Memnon’s own power through our bond—
“Ah, ah, little witch. That’s a cute idea, but I’m afraid I won’t be sharing my power for this.”
I reach for my own magic before flinging it at the sorcerer with abandon. His power rises to meet mine, the dark blue clouds of it crashing against my lighter orange ones, holding it at bay.
“Exquisite mate,” he says, his eyes beginning to glow. “I would fight you all evening just to watch your ferocity,” he says. “I hope you know it fills me with pride to see you unleash yourself.
“Unfortunately,” he continues, “I still need your help to lift our curse.”
I wipe the corner of my lips, where a little blood has slipped out from a cut in my mouth. “I’ll never agree to that.”
“But you will,” he insists. “See, I know your heart, Selene, better than anyone, so I know that while you may be willing to take me on alone, you’d never put others at risk.”
The first icy tendrils of true fear skate down my back.
“I will harm every single person in this room until you agree to lift the curse,” he vows.
My magic leaks out with my panic. “Memnon.”
“I do so love it when you say my name like that,” he says. “Agree to help me lift the curse, mate. Like you said yourself, no one else has to get hurt. This is between you and me.”
I glare at him as he uses my own words against me.
“Or we can do this the hard way.”
The words are barely out of his mouth when I hear a sharp inhalation.
To the right of me, a witch with dark curly hair clutches her throat. There’s seemingly nothing wrong with her, and yet she sways, reaching out and gripping a stranger’s shoulder as she tries and fails to draw breath.
On the opposite side of the dance floor, a mage grabs his neck, making pained choking noises as his canary-yellow magic moves restlessly around him.
Guest after guest clutches their throat, their breath seizing in their lungs until the entire conservatory is suffocating on nothing more than Memnon’s magic.
The room fills with panicked magic that’s tangling together and making the air hazy. All of it, however, is soon overwhelmed by the deep blue hue of Memnon’s power.
This time, my magic unleashes before I even consciously choose to fight back. It fills the room, the pale peach hue mixing with Memnon’s magic. I feel it pulling at the ends of my mate’s power, trying to draw the lethal magic away from the throats of all these supernaturals.
I grit my teeth as I meet resistance.
“Agree to lift the curse, mate.”
“No.” A wave of power explodes out of me, knocking Memnon’s away for a moment. I hear dozens of ragged gasps as, for a moment, people drag in a desperate breath of air.
My head throbs, and the edges of my vision turn hazy as memory after memory burns away. I don’t know which ones, but there’s a hollow ache in my chest at the loss.