After My Husband Stole My Magic for His Mistress

The night of the Eclipse Rite arrived with a heavy stillness that seemed to press against the city. The moon hung like a darkened eye in the sky, its light obscured by shadow—a perfect reflection of the corruption that had taken root in our magical community.

I stood at the edge of the rooftop gathering at Rockefeller Center, watching from the shadows as Preston took his place at the center of the stone altar. His movements were jerky, almost frantic, as he arranged the ritual components with trembling hands.

"Is everything ready?" he asked, his voice higher than usual, edged with a desperation that would have been pitiful if it weren't so dangerous.

Andie stood beside him, her face a mask of confusion and fear. The Aegis Coat draped over her shoulders caught the artificial light, shimmering with warmth while Preston's body radiated cold.

"Of course," she replied, her voice small. "Everyone's watching."

And they were. Hundreds of magical beings from across the East Coast had gathered for this ritual—warlocks, witches, shifters, and more. Their faces reflected the moonlight as they formed a circle around the altar, their expressions ranging from anticipation to unease.

I studied Preston's face more carefully. The strain of maintaining his stolen power was showing in the grey pallor of his skin, the new lines etched around his eyes. He looked like a man trying to hold water in his bare hands—power slipping through his fingers with each passing moment.

"It's time," he announced, raising his arms toward the eclipsed moon. "Tonight, we bind the ley lines of New York to my bloodline forever!"

The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Even those loyal to Preston seemed disturbed by the manic gleam in his eyes.

"Something's wrong," I heard someone whisper. "The High Warlock looks..."

"Dying?" another voice finished.

I stepped forward then, leaving the shadows behind me.

The guards stationed at the perimeter noticed me immediately. "Stop her!" one shouted, lunging toward me with a silver-tipped spear.

I didn't flinch. I didn't need to.

An invisible wave of force emanated from me, pushing the guards backward as if they were mere leaves in a storm. Their weapons clattered to the ground as they stared at me in shock.

"Who is that?" someone asked, their voice carrying across the suddenly silent rooftop.

I walked forward steadily, my gown of shadows and starlight rippling around me like liquid night. The crowd parted before me, creating a path to the altar where Preston stood frozen in disbelief.

"Kehlani?" he whispered, his face draining of what little color remained.

I didn't answer him. Instead, I turned to address the gathered crowd, my voice carrying on the wind itself.

"I come before you tonight not as Preston King's discarded lover," I began, my words resonating with power that needed no amplification, "but as the vessel for the Supreme Matriarch."

Gasps rippled through the crowd as my eyes began to glow with violet light—the unmistakable sign of ascendant power.

"That's impossible," Preston hissed, but there was fear in his voice now. "You gave away your power. You're nothing!"

"I gave away a limiter," I corrected him calmly. "A dam holding back what was always meant to be mine."

My gaze shifted to Andie, who had shrunk back against the altar. "And you, Andie Spencer, have been wearing my child around your neck."

Her hand flew to the diamond necklace in horror. "What?"

"The ashes of my unborn child," I said, my voice steady despite the pain of the memory. "Preston promised to create a memorial for our baby. Instead, he transformed those sacred remains into jewelry for his mistress."

Andie's face contorted with disgust and terror. She clawed at the necklace, trying to tear it from her throat. "Get it off! Get it off!"

But when her fingers touched the diamonds, she screamed in pain. The necklace burned her skin like acid, leaving angry red welts wherever it touched.

"Liar!" Preston shrieked, his composure shattering completely. "She's lying! She's trying to steal what's rightfully mine!"

He raised his hands, attempting to summon the death spell that would end me once and for all. But instead of the deadly energy that should have poured from his fingertips, only a weak spark flickered and died.

"She's stealing my power!" he screamed, his voice cracking with panic. "Stop her! Someone stop her!"

But it was too late. The truth had been revealed, and with it, the beginning of his end.