Vanikha

“You don’t know who I am?” His eyebrows lift in disbelief. Then he laughs, the sound chilling. “I have been
inside you more times than there are stars to count. I am no more a stranger to you than your own skin is.”
― Laura Thalassa, Bewitched

“You dismantled my army. Destroyed our empire, ripped me from our lands, and thrust me into this twisted
future where nothing makes sense!” He all but roars this last part. “Let me go.”
― Laura Thalassa, Bewitched

“Est amage,” he says, his expression growing fevered, “we will figure it out. Together. I vow to fix all my
wrongs. Whatever you want, you shall have. I am yours forever.”
― Laura Thalassa, Bewitched

“Am I dead?” he asks, his gaze rising to mine once more. “Are you here to lead my soul to the afterlife?” The afterlife? “What are you talking
about?” I say. I step back, out of his embrace. “My name is Selene, not Roxi.” His brows pull together, his
mouth twisting into a frown. This man is obviously confused. He thinks I’m someone else and that we’re
somewhere else, and I don’t know enough about this entire situation to figure out how to handle it well. His gaze moves to the writing scrawled on the walls. He narrows his eyes as he takes in the inscriptions. I follow his gaze.
…Memnon the Cursed will sleep the sleep of gods… …bound to this room… …powers muted… …memory
cast from the minds of the living… …forced to sleep…
…never aging, never dying… I clear my throat. “I…take it you were cursed?” When Memnon’s face returns to
me, his expression has changed, hardened, that scar of his looking stark against his skin. It takes effort not to
piss myself at how frightening he appears. “It was true, wasn’t it? It was all true. I didn’t believe Eislyn, but she was right.” He catches me by the chin and tugs me to him. “My queen, what have you done?” “Whoever you are,” I say slowly, “you need to let go of me. Now.” Only after the words are out do I realize I spoke in English.
“What has addled your tongue?” he demands, tightening his grip. His scowl deepens. “Or is this some new language you’ve learned to curse me in?” All around us, I see his magic thickening
“Whatever it is you have done to me, wife,” he says, pulling me in close. “I vow to you that it will not happen again.” Despite his nearness, there’s no warmth to his touch. Only a punishing sort of possessiveness.
“I will make you pay for what you have done for the rest of our days.” He steps in close and presses his mouth to mine. I fight against the kiss, but it’s not actually a kiss at all. Memnon’s power swarms around us. I feel it slipping down my throat and coiling in my lungs. “Sleep,” he murmurs against my lips. And the world goes dark.”
― Laura Thalassa, Bewitched