My phone buzzes from the nightstand, dragging me from my thoughts. I release Nero, who immediately proceeds to clean his face where I touched him, and I grab the phone. On the screen is a text from Kane.
Suddenly, all of last night slams back into me. The demon, the auction, the fight, Eislyn.
Selene, we need to talk in person.
Another text follows the first.
Now.
I sit up in bed, gathering the sheets to me.
It’s about Memnon.
My heart drops. I text back, my pulse beginning to rise.
Why?
I wait impatiently for him to respond.
You asked me to stick my neck out for you a week ago. I’m asking you to give me your time.
I reply:
Fine
Come to my place in thirty minutes.
I glance past Nero to where the sorcerer disappeared down the hallway. I can hear him humming some old Sarmatian song beneath his breath.
Memnon, I reach out down our bond. I have to go to my residence hall to grab a few things for…later today.
Rather than answering, Memnon pads back down the hallway, leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom. He wears only a pair of low-slung joggers, and the sight of his muscular, inked torso makes my knees go weak. A corner of his mouth is curled up into a soft smile.
His smoky amber eyes glitter as he takes me in. He’s looking at me with so much longing it makes my chest ache.
“Don’t be gone long, little witch,” he says. “I have a surprise for you before we say our vows.”
My heart beats a little harder.
This better be fucking good, Kane.
CHAPTER 54
Though I haven’t been to my residence hall in a week, it’s as though nothing at all has changed—with the exception, perhaps, of the solitude. The house is much quieter and emptier than before. At first I simply assume that’s because the two beings that made this place feel full—Sybil and Nero—are not currently here, but then I realize there’s no cawing, screeching sounds from the various familiars that live here, nor are there any loud cackles from coven sisters. The murmured conversations I do hear are subdued. The house still smells, however, like comfort food. Today, it’s cinnamon rolls.
I drop my things off in my room and head downstairs to grab one when someone bangs the ever-loving shit out of our front door.
One guess who that might be.
I retrace my steps to the foyer and open the door. Standing on the other side of it is Kane.
“What are you doing trying to knock down my door like you’re the Big Bad Wolf?” I say.
He gives me a look. “That’s not funny.”
It’s a little funny, but I keep that to myself. Last night obviously made everybody lose their sense of humor.
Despite the chill in the air, Kane wears only a tank top, jogging shorts, and tennis shoes. His sandy blond hair looks windblown.
“Did you run here?” I ask, holding the door open for him to come in.
The lycanthrope steps inside, his body rolling like a wolf on the prowl.
“Did you know?” he demands.
My heart beats loudly. There are a number of sensitive topics I know about that I likely shouldn’t.
“Know what?” I say innocently enough. A moment later, I hold up a hand. “Wait. I’m not ready to have this conversation until I get some breakfast in me.” Namely coffee.
“Selene,” Kane protests, an impatient growl rumbling in his throat.
I give him an amused look. “That growl might’ve worked on me before I met a demon.” I grab his hand. “Come on.”
I feel his surprise at the touch, then his own grip tightens on mine. I can’t see his face, but the alpha who bristles under others’ orders now lets me lead him into my house’s dining hall.
“You met a demon?” Kane echoes.
“Just for a little bit,” I say evasively. That’s an entire separate conversation, one that will likely ruin my appetite.
In my house’s dining hall, fresh fruit sits out next to a tray of glistening cinnamon rolls, the frosting still dripping down them.
I release the shifter’s hand to grab two plates. Ignoring the fruit altogether, I dish out a cinnamon roll for each of us, then hand Kane the plates.
“Go sit down,” I say, nodding to one of the tables in the empty room behind us. “Also, do you like coffee or tea?”
“Christ, Selene, I just want to talk.”
My sternum throbs, constricting a little tighter. The unbreakable oath I made to Memnon is starting to become uncomfortable.
“Listen, Kane, last night was rough, and I need some semblance of normal at the moment, so please go sit the fuck down while I brew you something.”
He growls at the order.
“Go.” I give him a push.
He growls again but reluctantly heads to one of the wooden tables.
I grab two colorful mugs stacked next to a coffee maker and fill each of them up with steaming coffee. On a whim, I add cream to both. No clue if Kane even likes coffee or cream, but I’m beyond caring.
Coffees in hand, I head over to the table where Kane waits, looking very much like a caged wolf. His leg bounces impatiently.
“Goddess, you are so loud with your emotions,” I say. I hand him a mug and settle myself down. “Now, what was so important that you had to meet me in person to tell me?”
Kane stares at me for a long time as though he’s sizing me up.
“What?” I say, shifting in my seat a little.
“Did you know?” he says again.
“Know what?” I ask, taking a sip of coffee.
“About Luca Fortuna’s estate?”
My throat tightens at the name of the sorcerer. “What are you talking about?” I say, searching his eyes. “Why would I care about that bastard’s estate?”
Again, that long, assessing stare. His nostrils flare.
“Are you scenting me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. “What’s going on?”
“He named a business successor.”
“Okay…?” I say uncertainly.
Kane leans forward. “Luca Fortuna was the sole owner of Ensanguine Enterprises, the multimillion-dollar conglomerate. Besides his three now deceased children, he had a wife and two mistresses. And that is not even taking into consideration his extended family or the half-dozen close confidantes he was grooming for future roles in the company.”
Clearly Kane has done his homework on the family since we’ve been apart.
The shifter levels a look at me, one that desperately makes me want to look away. “Guess who Luca named to inherit his empire?”
Some sick emotion wells up in me. “You told me this was about Memnon.”
“It is.”
Kane reaches into the pocket of his running shorts and pulls out his phone. He taps on the screen, then slides the device over to me. I stare down at an image of a document titled “Ensanguine Enterprises Board of Directors Meeting Minutes.”
“Look right there,” Kane says, reaching across the table to point to a section of the page titled Succession Plan. “Read what it says.”
My eyes scan the text.
In the case of Luca Fortuna’s death, the leadership of Ensanguine Enterprises passes to Leonard Fortuna, Sophia Fortuna, Juliana Fortuna, and Memnon Uvagukis.