Page 188 of Bedeviled

I’m shaking my head. “I cannot, will not, do that. Please don’t ask it of me,” I whisper.

Even if I had it in me to end him, there’s no guarantee this awful plan of his would work. Memnon said it himself once: not all hearts restart.

And I cannot risk his.

Memnon’s exhale is defeated, and I see him bow his head. Reluctantly he moves the blade from his throat. It’s only once I hear the soft hiss of my weapon sliding into its sheath, however, that I fully relax again in Memnon’s arms.

His eyes rise to mine, and they look so hopeless.

“Eislyn—” he begins.

I touch his face lightly, my arm feeling leaden. “I know,” I say. “She forced a bond on you.”

I feel all his tumultuous, trapped emotions swirling on the other end of our connection, but he doesn’t voice any of them. Just nods, defeated.

“She’s making her move. Right now,” Memnon says, searching my features. “This was her first part of it.”

My throat tightens. “Killing me?” I say, just for clarity.

“Yes.”

What a sickening task, making a soul mate kill their other half.

It also makes little logical sense. Why would Eislyn waste time killing me on the night of her coup when her focus has been almost solely on the fae throne? Is vengeance really it? Or is she tying up one loose end …

My eyes snap to Memnon’s.

“Does Eislyn mean to take the throne with you at her side?”

He grimaces but dips his chin.

Yes.

Horror of horrors.

I knew she meant to use Memnon for her own ends, and I knew she had a sick fascination with him for years, but to now know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she meant to rule alongside him? That shakes me to my core.

I’m still reeling from this revelation when Memnon’s hand resettles above my breasts.

“Vakahi.” His voice is like thunder, and his power pours out of him, across my skin.

Heal.

I gasp as his power sinks in. There’s not much to heal, and yet I do feel the weakness in my limbs begin to lift. My body itself feels lighter and less like a reanimated corpse.

Once the last of Memnon’s power tapers off, the sorcerer clutches me close. His entire body trembles uncontrollably. “I’ve needed to do that since I first saw your broken body.” He draws in several ragged breaths. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Thank the merciful gods.”

He lifts his head. “Please,” he says brokenly. “Run and don’t look back.”

I trail a finger along that terrible scar he wears, and his whole body shudders. I shake my head. “That is not how you and I fight our enemies.”

“You have now died three times for me,” Memnon says. “Once on my battlefield, once outside my tomb, and now once by my hand.”

He releases me, and I keenly feel his absence.

“If you hold any love for me still, you will understand that I cannot let Eislyn harm you through me again.” His voice holds none of its earlier power. “I have to know you’re alive and safe somewhere in the world.”

“Somewhere in the world?” I echo, my brows coming together.