Wrath of the Gods (Magic Blessed Academy 3)

when I had rushed toward the king of the gods.

Huh. Guess he’s willing to defend that guy even if he doesn’t agree with him on how to deal with wild magic users.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d overheard the two gods arguing at the end of spring semester when I had snuck back into the palace—but just because Ryker didn’t like Omari, that didn’t make the tall, striking god my friend.

Did he tell Omari he saw me that day? Does he recognize me now?

I couldn’t guess the answer to either question. Ryker’s face was like stone, betraying nothing of his feelings as Omari waved a hand. Before my men and I could react, magic poured out of Omari’s fingers, wrapping around my entire upper body and binding it tight. The men’s hands were wrenched away from me as they were bound too, and I almost overbalanced and went down at the sudden loss of their grip holding me back.

Fuck. Of course Omari wasn’t going to just let us go back to Magic Blessed. Thanks to the false images they had of me and my men turning on other magic users as if we’d gone feral, he had the perfect excuse to kill not just us, but all wild magic users.

“Your fellow students have been returned to Magic Blessed Academy,” Omari said smoothly, as if he’d heard my thoughts. “That is where we will wipe them all out. Once we know that public opinion is on our side, the school and everyone in it will be leveled to the ground. From this moment forward, those who spontaneously develop magic shall be treated as they always should’ve been. As aberrations, as threats to the natural order.”

“You’re a fucking threat to the natural order!” I yelled, yanking hard at my bonds. I heard Trace hiss out a breath behind me, and I honestly wasn’t sure if it was because he was afraid my big mouth was gonna get us all killed or because he was disappointed in my smack talk.

Admittedly, it was far from my best comeback, but I was under a lot of godsdamn pressure, okay?

Omari’s smile grew wider. “Keep screaming. Keep struggling. Shout obscenities when we drag you out for your public execution. It will only sway more and more magic users to our side.” He cocked his head slightly, considering me. “I don’t know who you are, Aria Banks, but you have given me everything I needed to finally take care of the wild magic problem. Thank you.”

My blood turned to ice, a cold feeling taking root in my stomach. Shit. Everything I had done to try to protect the other students, my plans to take on the gods, all of it…

It had only given this manipulative, cunning leader of the gods the opportunity he needed to turn people against us. I had become a figurehead for the wrong cause.

My jaw clenched, furious tears burning my eyes. I opened my mouth to scream impotently at Omari, but before I could, he waved his hand again, sending a new wave of magic hurtling toward us.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was out before my body even hit the floor

“Aria…”

“Aria, are you…?”

“…that fucking asshole hit her with…”

“Aria!”

The voice snapped me out of the haze I was drifting in, and I sat up so quickly I saw stars. I groaned, collapsing back onto the hard stone floor. My pulse pounded in my temples, and it felt like someone had made my blood thicker somehow—as if every beat of my heart took extra effort, as if my veins were clogged and full.

“Fuuuck,” I moaned.

“There’s the Ari we know and love.” Merrick’s words were teasing, but his tone held concern, and when he lifted my head into his lap, his touch was gentle. “Give it a minute. We all felt like shit when we woke up too, and I think you got hit the hardest with whatever magic Omari sent at us.”

He stroked my hair as shudders wracked my body, making my skin feel hot and cold and clammy all at the same time. I rolled onto my side, and Trace’s hand rubbed soothing circles over my back as Lachlan rested his large palm on my hip. They were surrounding me, and in the comforting bubble of their presence, I let myself relax for a moment.

Then everything that’d happened came rushing back, and I sat up again so fast that I actually retched. Fortunately, it’d been so long since I’d eaten that nothing came up, but that didn’t make my body feel any better.

Merrick sighed. “I’m guessing this means you’re done resting?”

“I can’t rest,” I croaked. “You heard him. He’s gonna kill everyone at Magic Blessed. We have to go back there and warn them or something. Help them—”

“Dunno if ye noticed, lass, but we’re in a fuckin’ dungeon,” Lachlan cut in, running a hand through his coppery brown hair. He shook his head, a look of fury passing over his face. “The walls are set with some kinda spell that makes them impenetrable. None of our magic can do shite.”

I glanced around, gritting my teeth against the wave of dizziness that assaulted me. He was right. The room was made of dark stone, a total contrast to the polished white marble of the throne room and the rest of the palace. The room wasn’t large, and at first, I couldn’t even see a door. When I finally spotted one, my heart sank. It blended perfectly with the wall, and there was no obvious lock or handle, no window to see out. It was a perfectly smooth panel, and I could feel the energy radiating from it, the protective charm what would shield it from any of our magic.

Fuck.

“How long was I out?” I asked, turning back to the men. Judging from the worried expressions on their faces, I looked just as shitty as I felt, but as adrenaline pumped through my system, my mind was slowly beginning to clear.

“About an hour after the rest of us woke up,” Trace said, chewing on his lip. “We don’t know how long the three of us were unconscious for, but I’m guessing it was at least a few hours.”