The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil: Diabolic Romance Book One by MN Bennet

Author:MN Bennet [Bennet, MN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

17

17

Walter

Everything hurt. Something kneaded my insides. Not something. Bez. His Diabolic essence. It saved me after Ian… After he’d stabbed me. Why? Some ploy involving Chancellor Driscoll to incite a war between the Collective and displeased Mythics, along with misfit mages like Ian who wanted to what…? Liberate magic to the masses.

I sank deep into the cushiony mattress I found myself in, unable to pull myself up. Unable to open my eyes. The moment I opened them, all of this would be real. Permanent. I’d walked right into a trap and couldn’t accept the open world around me until I comprehended at least a fraction of it. My eyes bounced back and forth beneath my closed lids, avoiding the sunlight which pierced into this room. I bit my lower lip and pulled the comforter covering me over my head. I wanted to sleep forever. Or until I had a solution—which might as well be forever.

Ian wanted free magic, which in theory always sounded lovely, yet mass introduction to magic, mages, and Mythics was something that’d been experimented with a hundred times over. Dating back thousands of years, the Collective and Mythic Councils had entertained the concept. It led to all sorts of unproductive societal reactions.

There were too many examples of attempting to co-exist that proved fallible by those with magic abusing it and those without craving it. Simpler to keep the worlds apart. Something Ian would understand if he’d been raised in mage society, grown up with the teachings from the Collective, as opposed to stumbling onto his fate later in life. Maybe that was his misguided reasoning. No. He made his choice. He knew so much more than I realized possible.

He conspired. Murdered. Framed. Defamed. And who knew what else he had planned with Chancellor Driscoll. Two opposing forces, which made no sense unless the two kept their agendas very secretive. Not that Driscoll could. The chancellor had hated Mythics his entire life, part of what prevented him from rising to the role of magus. Which meant Ian was playing Driscoll, helping him light the fuse to a war that would lead to exposure.

Still, to what end? And although Ian might’ve grabbed a few relics and even gathered a small army of loyalists, it wouldn’t be enough. What made the Collective a force unlike any other was that all mage territories united when things like this occurred. If the chancellors couldn’t quell Ian’s rebellion, then soon, the mages across the world would send their most elite to lay waste.

A solution that would cost the city of Seattle. Maybe even the state. Anytime magic razed destruction upon the land, mortals paid the price, and mother nature became the scapegoat. I empathized, considering how I’d found myself in the role of the wrongfully blamed.

I huffed, needing to understand, find a solution through the few variables I knew about.

“Are you going to lay there pretending to sleep all day?” Bez asked. A crisp page flipped.

My chest warmed, and my heart hastened. He was in my room.

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