Page 210 of Bedeviled

Revive.

Memnon’s back arches again as what must be an electrical current runs through him.

Come back to me, Memnon. I do not want to do this without you. Please don’t force me to.

I hear the slight intake of breath, and I see the subtle swell of his chest as it fills with air. I don’t move for a moment as I stare down at him, unsure whether I imagined it all or not. But then Memnon’s chest rises and falls again, and his eyelids flutter.

A sob rips its way out of my throat, and I splay my hand on the side of his face, searching his features. Languidly, Memnon’s arms come around me, and his eyes open, then sharpen on my face.

My beautiful, powerful queen, you saved me. He smiles then, and I am positive I have never seen anything as glorious as that smile.

I dip my head to kiss it, taste it, just for a moment.

Memnon holds me close as my lips brush his. And now I’m crying again.

Let me see you, he says softly across our connection.

I pull away, and Memnon’s eyes seem to devour each one of my features.

He pushes my hair back, wipes away my tears, and stares into my eyes. Across our bond I can feel a swell of emotion, one that makes my own heart clench.

“What did you do to me?” he asks wondrously. “I look at you, and I feel the whole universe running through my veins.”

The spell worked.

I laugh through my tears, which are freely falling. “I’m pretty sure that’s your conscience.”

He touches his chest ponderously, his brows coming together. “You restored it?”

“Turns out your sorcery was a curse like the one placed on me,” I say. “Now you’re just a boring, ordinary mage.”

Memnon arches one of his brows. “Boring?” he echoes, the corners of his lips curving up. “Ordinary? What insolence,” he says, his eyes dancing.

I smile at him and lean in close, dimly aware that the room is beginning to darken once more. “Fortunately for you, every part of me loves every part of you.”

“Thank the gods.”

I’m grinning at him like a damn fool when Nero snarls. I’ve only just turned to see what’s drawn his attention when a demon slams into me, lunging for my throat.

Seven Hells.

I roll with the creature, trying to keep it at arm’s length. Clearly while I’ve been focused on Memnon, the battle resumed.

Memnon’s hand threads through the demon’s curly, brown hair and drags it back. Swifter than I can follow, he brings his dagger to the demon’s throat and slices, once, twice, three times, until he’s hacked through its neck entirely.

Black blood sprays from the creature’s headless torso as Memnon kicks it aside and tosses its head in the other direction.

I glance from the demon’s wriggling body to Memnon in the waning light.

“Alright, so maybe I didn’t fully lift the curse,” I say.

“Does this mean I’m not boring and ordinary after all?” he asks, and again, those eyes of his still dancing.

He reaches down and pulls me up to my feet.

“I suppose you’re a little exciting,” I say, grinning back at him like a lovesick fool.

The groans around us have me dragging my gaze to the rest of the room. We’re in what appears to be the main hallway of the castle, the walls nearly overtaken with foliage. The great chandelier and the sconces above us are lit, and yet they don’t seem to drive back the rapidly growing shadows.