Wrath of the Gods (Magic Blessed Academy 3)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Almost as suddenly as it had come, the blackness receded from my vision, the world around me snapping back into focus.

I was hovering in the air several feet away from the edge of the roof, and as I looked down at myself, I realized that the usual light aura that surrounded all magic users had intensified around me. My skin gave off a bright white light, as if I had absorbed the lightning Omari had sent at me and it was now radiating from my pores.

“Holy fuck,” I breathed.

My brethren fear that you and your kind could become gods yourselves..

Ryker’s words the night he snuck into the school replayed in my mind as shock reverberated through me.

Was that what had happened?

I had been part god to begin with. Had Omari’s blast of power, which my body had somehow soaked up like a sponge, transformed the magic inside me into something else entirely?

There wasn’t time to think about it now.

There wasn’t time to doubt or question it.

There was only time to fight.

To protect the people I loved.

My head snapped up, my gaze finding Omari in an instant. The white-haired, imposing god was staring at me with wide eyes, an expression of fear and horror on his face.

Yeah? I’ll give you something to be scared of, you fucking asshole.

Leaning forward, I shot through the air toward him, some part of me cackling with glee as the fear in his features morphed into flat-out panic.

I had seen him fight Ryker. I knew that just because I was on even footing with him magically, that didn’t mean I was guaranteed to win. But it sure as hell meant I was gonna give it everything I had.

My body hit his like a speeding train, and I wrapped my arms around him as we tumbled across the roof. Magic flowed through my veins like it had replaced my blood, and my body was still glowing like a lightbulb.

With a furious roar,

Omari backhanded me, sending me flying off him. But my speed and strength were bolstered by magic, and I leapt to my feet almost as soon as I landed, charging at him again. I called on my favorite weapon, building blades of magic that protruded from my fists, as I swung a right hook at him. He pulled back, and just the tip of my magic blade cut a clean line across his cheek, drawing several drops of blood.

Gods can bleed.

Which means gods can die.

Fury like I had never known coursed through me as I swung my fists at him again and again, trying to simultaneously punch him and stab him. He stumbled backward, thrown off balance, but then he caught one of my arms before my strike could land. The same magic that he’d used against Ryker sparked at his fingertips, and I kicked him hard in the stomach, shoving him away and breaking his grip before the magic could capture me.

Focus, Aria. Be smart. Look for your opening.

I knew this. I had done this countless times before in the underground ring in Boston. Back then, it had been against beefy men who were too cocky to believe a woman could kick their ass. Now it was against an ancient god who’d been too cocky to believe someone with wild magic could ever truly beat him.

The men in the ring had been wrong.

And so was this fucking god.

I was vaguely aware of Lachlan and Trace fighting off the other two gods, protecting Merrick’s prone form. The sight of him lying so still on the slightly sloped roof made my heart clench in my chest, but I let every bit of pain inside me transform into anger, and I released that anger through my fists.

Magic and pure brute strength poured out of me as Omari and I traded blows. Sweat poured down my face, and I lost all sense of time. There was only the sound of my harsh breaths, the feel of my pulse in my ears, the swing of my fists, and the small shifts in Omari’s stance that telegraphed his next move.

And then I saw it.

My opening.