Page 84 of The Misfit Mage and His Dashing Devil

“What happened to it?”

“Mora wanted it as a fair exchange of goods and services. Better in the hands of a witch anyway. She said it belonged to Kell’s coven.”

Of course, Mora used this dire situation to acquire a gift of power for her beloved. Mora was so annoyingly selfish.

Walter nicked Ian’s cheek. My cheek twitched, instinctually bracing for the cut as Ian yelped.

“Just wanted to double-check.” Walter leaned over, kissing my unblemished cheek. “Couldn’t risk your well-being for what comes next.”

He licked his lips, cherishing the taste of my skin. Gods. How seductive and destructive he looked under the moon’s light, blade in hand, blood covering him, and straddling Ian’s half-conscious soon-to-be corpse.

“You don’t need to do this, Wally.”

He paused, half-smiling. “I want to.”

What came next was required. I’d never let Ian walk away. But taking a life, a mortal one… “This is a permanent change. Let me handle ending this mage’s life.”

“I understand that. And I doubt I could enjoy taking lives the same way as you. There are too many variables and reasons and calculations and considerations to take into account. Still, I want this. Everything he did to me. The lives he took at the Magus Estate. The lives he manipulated.”

“I’ve done worse.”

“You’ve also done better.” Wally tilted his head. “This isn’t about morality. It’s simple revenge. What he did to you was cruel, and I could never allow something like that to happen without a response.”

Wally. Sweet, considerate Wally wished to avenge what he considered wrongdoing?

I extended a hand, ready to grab the hilt of his blade. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” He had a calm sincerity I never thought possible. “I feel free. Happy. Glad you’re safe. But mostly angry, which I don’t like.”

I smirked. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I don’t like it.” He lifted the blade, ready to end Ian’s worthless life.

I moved in close behind Wally, straddling Ian’s thighs as he trembled beneath us, and pressed my chest against Wally’s back. Despite the shaky mage, Wally kept his posture straight and position steady. I guided his wrist, bringing the blade to his palm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I cut open his palm and pressed the same hand which accidentally connected us in the beginning to my essence pooled beside us.

“Stop. I don’t want to control you.”

“You won’t. I trust you.” I kissed his nape.

“I don’t want my mistakes to cost you again.” He shivered, biting his lower lip. “I love you, Bez.”

“Nothing you do is a mistake.” My heart pounded rhythmically with his, safely indicating my essence was once more bound to him, ensuring I’d always be able to protect him. “Besides, I’m happier knowing a piece of me is inside you.”

“There’s a joke there.”

“There are no jokes in how I feel for you, Wally.” I brought his face closer and kissed him. My lips burned from the abrasions and cuts we shared linked together. The taste of iron from trickling blood added to the sweetness of his lips, the passion in his tongue, the bite of his teeth. Every sensation hollowed me, refueled me, completed me. “I love you, too.”

His ears burned bright red.

“Shall we begin?” I whispered.

The heat of my breath hit his ear, and our skin tingled in sync with each other. Wally slowly slid the blade down Ian’s face, who winced from the cool blade, shuddering beneath us as the blade reached the tender flesh of his stomach. He sputtered something incomprehensible due to his slashed tongue.

Wally pushed back against me, the essence inside him pulling at my every fiber gently yet demanding. It craved my control and satisfaction.

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