Page 62 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“Fuck that,” Mora said. “I tried diplomacy. They can all rot in whatever witchy afterlife awaits them.”

“Returned to the goddess,” Kell answered. “May they choke on her roots until the end of time.”

And with that, she led the way into this warehouse despite the fact Wally’s spell directed our path deeper inside and eventually down a set of stairs that took us into a cellar filled with artifacts galore and a group of witches who dropped everything under the direction of one who shouted at them to find their formation.

“Reminds me of the toxic cheer squad I was in.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. Goddess.” Kell smacked her cheeks with shock. “How am I just now learning you were a cheerleader?”

“I was really just there to be a thrower,” Wally clarified. “But weak arms—they expected me to be like Alistair.”

“He does have such strong arms,” Kell said.

“Anyway.” Wally made a pouty face. “Apparently, I didn’t have enough pep for the team, so I got cut.”

I smirked. “Please tell me you kept the uniform.”

“From when I was fourteen?” Wally raised a brow. “No. It wouldn’t even fit.”

I tilted my head, leaning closer to him. “The number of times you’ve said that, and yet, we always manage.”

“You dare step into our base of operations and make idol conversation,” a witch said, still directing the others, so based on his confidence and bluster, I figured him for the leader. “The gall of coming here, behaving in such a way.”

“I’ll cum where I want, thank you very much!” I winked at Wally, who rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? Not the time. But also, told you I’d find them.” Wally nodded toward the coven leader, cocky smile that his research had paved the way, so much so even his tail pointed. A good sign indicating that his essence was syncing up to his desires, even if for basic motor functions.

“You mean fell into our trap,” the coven leader said.

“I’d rather not kill your entire coven, Desmond.” Mora sauntered in front of Wally and Kell while I remained in the back, seeing as the witches circled us from every angle as if they could flank our position.

“You won’t have the option,” Desmond said.

“Wow. Didn’t realize you were so eager to die.” Mora snickered. “But if I don’t have an option—”

“No,” Desmond snapped. “You won’t have an option, as in you won’t be given the option to kill us. You’ll be dealt with.”

I joined in Mora’s laughter. The audacity of these simple witches. I understood their bravado in challenging Kell, assuming they could fair against one of their own, but surely, they understood a single coven couldn’t defeat one demon, let alone two and a devil hybrid.

“I get the bravado in stealing from me,” Kell said, holding back her own chuckle. “Assuming, foolishly, you could challenge one witch and win as a self-proclaimed powerhouse coven, but surely you’re not so arrogant to believe yourselves capable of defeating two demons and a devil hybrid.”

“This lot wouldn’t even fair against one demon,” I growled, relishing in the shutter it sent through the coven witches surrounding us. Already, they hesitated, they questioned their predicament, and in a few moments, they’d beg for a mercy I was in no mood to grant. “And they think they can kill three?”

“Why kill you when we can snare you in our trap?” the witch leader asked.

“Please, these sigils won’t even stop me.” Kell shook her head, a grin on her face and pity in her eyes.

“They’re not meant to contain you, wicked witch,” Desmond said. “Merely meant to keep your focus split as the real trap unfolds.”

“Excuse me, but um, not to be that person.” Wally raised a hand because of course he had to be polite even as we infiltrated their pathetic attempt at a coup. “Aren’t traps better if they’re not announced?”

Mora strutted forward with her hands on her hips. “Hun, never underestimate the hubris of a man who feels slighted because he’s not in charge.”

“Hubris?” Desmond scoffed. “You are the one with hubris. demon bitch! We finally have a city, a place to gather without Collective oversight. A place with real power. Potential. Possibility.”

“You’re just saying synonyms now.” Mora gestured with aloof dismissal of Desmond’s comments. “You’re mad because you wish to wage a war against an army of mages. You’re delusional because you think one hidden city can offer the Mythics refuge to conspire their assault. You’re arrogant because you think youcan run this city better. A city that wouldn’t exist without me. A city cultivated and culminated by the network of Mythics, mages, mortals, and everyone under the fucking sun that I organized, gathered, saw a glimmer of potential in.”

“You’re short-sighted, Mora.”

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