Break the Spell: An MM Paranormal Romance (Mages and Mates Book 1) Read online

  BREAK THE SPELL

  Mages and Mates Book One

  ANDY GALLO

  BREAK THE SPELL

  Copyright © 2022 by Andy Gallo

  Cover Art © 2022 Alexandria Corza

  www.alexandriacorza.com

  Published by Gallorious Readers, LLC

  P.O. Box 1654 College Park, MD 20741, USA

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains explicit sexual content.

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any for or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Andy Gallo, P.O. Box 1654, College Park, MD 20741, USA; visit www.andygallo.com; or send an email to [email protected].

  Created with Vellum

  Break The Spell: Mages and Mates Book One

  Bartholomew Hollen, professor of defensive magic at Utrecht University, just wanted a no strings, no feelings, no attachment hook up. Nothing messy like when his ex-boyfriend tried to feed him to a demon. Bart’s heart, however, has other ideas. But when he has a vision of the future and sees his hookup dying at his feet from yet another demon, Bart does the only sensible thing – he sneaks out like a thief in the night.

  Not like he’ll see the guy again.

  Caelinus Reinhold has done something no elf has done before – become the professor of creative magic at Utrecht University. His first day should be magical, except Cael can’t stop thinking about the hot mage he hooked up with the night before who then snuck out while he slept. Whatever. His loss.

  He’ll never see the jerk again, anyway.

  Things get awkward fast when the department assigns Bart to be Cael’s mentor. Despite their rocky start, neither can deny that Fate wants them together. But Bart’s premonitions all end in tragedy for the pair. No matter how he tries to change the future, Cael is always a casualty. How can Bart follow his heart when Cael’s death is sure to break it?

  Like everything I write, this is dedicated to my husband Mike and my daughter. You give me the courage and freedom to write.

  Forever will not be long enough.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About Andy

  Also by Andy Gallo

  Harrison Campus Box Set Collection

  Fantasy by Andrew Q. Gordon

  Champion of the Gods

  Purpose:

  Relativity - Lateral Parallax Book 1

  Chapter One

  BARTHOLOMEW

  Declan: Can you come to my classroom?

  Setting my phone down, I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyelids. What now? This was becoming a daily thing, and I was over it. And him. He broke up with me. Why did he keep asking to see me?

  Worse, not one time had it been anything remotely important.

  I grabbed my phone and angrily typed a response.

  {Bart: I’m busy. Can we talk later?}

  Five months since our last date, and you’d think I’d ended our relationship. To be fair, when the head of the Ocular Society reads the signs and says you’re not each other’s forever person, it takes the zing out of things. That, however, still wasn’t my fault, so why was he torturing me?

  Deep down, we’d both known we weren’t a long-term thing. It was mildly fun, the sex was good, and we mostly got on fine, but we lacked any real chemistry. Hearing it in such stark language, however, burst the illusion. I didn’t blame Declan for breaking it off after Gran told us—on New Year’s Eve in front of my entire family, no less—we wouldn’t be together long. The timing was shitty, and she probably picked that moment on purpose because she’d never liked Declan. Which, in his mind, made it my fault by association.

  Fair enough, but it was the hot and cold treatment since then that made it hard to be around him.

  For most of the semester, he’d kept his distance. Even in staff meetings, he sat as far away from me as he could. And if I took the seat at the far end of the table, forcing him to sit next to the head of the department, it wasn’t meant to be spiteful.

  Not much at least.

  The last three weeks, however, he’d found excuses for us to talk. Not that he was friendly when we did meet. I think he just wanted to see if I’d respond.

  I tried to get back to my research, but now I was waiting for him to reply and say it was important. It never was, but he’d text me until I caved just to make him stop. That was my fault. I never liked parting on bad terms—unless one of us had done something shitty, like cheat or lie about something important. We’d been friends once, and that should have survived.

  Everyone disagreed, but I didn’t give in to group think.

  Today, however, I needed a new approach. It was almost five p.m., and I had another hour of work to do before I left for the weekend—if I could save myself thirty minutes of distraction . . .

  Sighing loudly, I locked my screen and pushed back from the heavy oak desk I’d found in the attic of Hollen Hall. I’d moved out of my ancestral home the first chance I could, but that didn’t mean the place wasn’t a treasure trove of antiques I could appropriate for my personal use. The thick Persian rug, ornate bookcases, vintage Victorian chairs, and mahogany side table had all been liberated from the same dusty attic banishment.

  Declan said it made me stodgy at twenty-eight, and I’d owned it. I liked old things. They had more character and style than modern pieces.

  Pulling my door shut, I dropped my hand to the mage stone in my pocket, running my fingers instinctively over its outline through the cotton of my slacks. I touched the tiny indent where my index finger rested and remembered how big it felt when my grandfather gave it to me for my twelfth birthday. Now I felt naked if it wasn’t in my pocket.

  My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway of the applied magic department. Not many students came to the third floor after four p.m.. It was a gorgeous Friday in May, and most of the rooms were empty. Philadelphia generally had pleasant spring weather, but today was perfect. Warm enough for shorts, almost no humidity, and hardly a cloud to be seen. The kind of day that begged me to leave the
campus and go for a long run before dinner.

  I turned onto the creative magic wing. Only one classroom had its lights on—Declan’s. When we dated, I’d spent a lot of time there, but the familiarity had worn off. Magic hummed from inside the room. Declan was using a lot of power. Why wasn’t the door warded closed?

  Shaking out of my daydream, I pulled my stone and walked faster.

  “Declan?” I called as I entered. “What are you . . .?”

  The desks had been moved to the perimeter and a giant series of glyphs covered the floor in a large circle. Declan knelt at the back of the room, working on a smaller circle of symbols. He looked up in surprise and then snapped his gaze back to his work.

  “Shit,” he muttered, and worked faster.

  “Declan, what the fuck are you doing?” I glanced over the big series of runes. “Are you out of your mind!”

  He never took his eyes off his work.

  I stepped into the room.

  “No!” He held up his hand. “It’s not ready!”

  Power hummed under my foot when I triggered a completed spell. I froze and studied the glyphs covering the floor. Declan was toiling furiously. Fear, the deep paralyzing kind, swallowed me in its icy grip; there was more dark magic in Dec’s classroom than I’d ever felt. This was meant to kill, and it was clear who he wanted dead.

  The symbols of the larger pattern thrummed, and light pulsed up from the stone floor. I snapped out of my terror-induced stupor and realized the pattern.

  Declan was still feverishly trying to finish the other circle. Everything came into focus, and anger roiled inside me.

  “Fuck that.” I pointed my stone in his direction and sent a narrow blast of magic toward the arc of his circle. A small sliver of stone flew up, breaking the continuity of the pattern.

  “No!” His wide-eyed look of horror morphed into a glare of pure hate. I didn’t need a cipher to know it was meant for me. Hell was about to break loose, and I’d destroyed his only chance of survival. With my proximity to the door, he’d be the first to die.

  Except, I wasn’t a killer. At least, I wouldn’t kill Declan. I released a second spell before he could attack, the force of my magic sending him flying backward. He struck the wall hard, dazed from the impact. His mage stone fell from his fingers as my enchantment pinned him to the wall.

  The barrier I’d created was strong enough to hold him—for a time, at least. It was the best I had on short notice.

  Light swirled inside the circle, and the floor turned a translucent yellow. I was running out of time. As soon as the energy expanded to the edges of the pattern, his spell would be active.

  Without taking my eyes off the circle, I extended my left hand and called for the Orme Seax. I’d bought the ancient Viking short sword as a curiosity. It was very old and strikingly beautiful; the brilliant blue sapphire wedged between golden serpent fangs in the pommel and the gilded hilt meant it must’ve been a valuable piece, for an important person. It also reeked of magic, so I’d dug deeper. It was more than an ordinary weapon.

  It had taken a year to decipher its purpose and another six months to unlock how to use it. I thanked the old gods I’d made the effort.

  The crash of wood splintering in the distance meant I’d need a new door. A small price to pay for my survival. Assuming I survived.

  The sword slapped against my outstretched hand. I wrapped my fingers around the cool hilt and activated the magic inside. The jewel pulsed once, and blue fire shot along the blade. Energy sped up my arm until it covered me in its protective embrace. Alone, it wouldn’t be enough, but it allowed me to divert magic from my defenses into offense.

  With all the dark magic Declan had used, he should have set off the school’s detection spells, but they were silent. I didn’t have time for that mystery. I needed to warn school security.

  The amount of power needed to do this was insane. Where did Declan get such magic?

  Shaking off the question, I grabbed the thread of the detection spell that ran through the building and yanked it into the classroom. A shrill alarm screeched through the campus. Hopefully that was enough—the yellow energy had reached the edges of the circle. It was impossible, but it was coming. No demon had breached the Great Ward since it had been erected, yet a demon was about to appear. I needed to give it my full attention. I raised the seax, pointed it in the direction of the circle, and touched my mage stone to the gem in the pommel.

  There were two ways to bring a demon into our world: summon it or open a portal. Theoretically, at least. No one had done it in twelve centuries. Summoning any demon was crazy, but using a portal was really insane. It was like opening a door and inviting anyone who happened by to enter. You couldn’t limit the number or strength of the creatures who came through.

  Thankfully, this was a summons; only a single demon of a certain size and strength could answer. Unfortunately, given the size of the circle, that single demon would be big and strong.

  The light flashed, and I released my spell even before my vision cleared. I needed to keep its attention on me, so it didn’t consume Declan. My survival improved exponentially if I prevented that.

  The demon roared and I felt the power in its voice. Windows rattled and desks shook, but my blast served its purpose. I had the creature’s full attention.

  Wonderful.

  It wasn’t as big as I’d feared, but it was big enough. The horns on its head almost touched the ceiling and its arms were as thick as my body. Good thing we weren’t going to wrestle. Its blue-black skin shimmered an iridescent orange, the same color as its eyes. Naked from the waist up, it had cloth wrapped around its hips, clasped by what looked like the skull of some poor creature. The hem was tattered and hung down in strips.

  I didn’t see a weapon, but its massive hands ended in claws that could easily peel the skin from my body. Around each wrist, it wore a metal brace with some etching or writing I couldn’t see clearly. It was as fearsome as the legends suggested.

  I specialized in defensive magic and had sparred numerous times with other mages, but that’d been controlled, and I’d had time to prepare. Fear bubbled inside me.

  This was nothing like those fights. Lose, and no one helped me to my feet and taught me how to do better next time. Death was a very real possibility.

  Confused, the demon watched me. Why had I summoned it, only to attack? Beating it down wouldn’t bend it to my will. Subjugation required the right containment spells, not brute force. It bared its teeth and growled.

  “You have not summoned me!”

  My first combat magic teacher taught me never respond to an opponent. Failure to answer usually led to anger. Anger led to mistakes, and I needed to be ready to capitalize if it made any.

  The Orme Seax throbbed in my hand. I’d studied this weapon—it had been made to fight demons. The magic forged into the blade burned a demon’s flesh.

  My hands shook as I tapped my stone to the weapon’s jewel, feeding it magic, then slashed the air. A thin line opened on the creature’s chest and orange ichor seeped out. Its roar was louder than the first.

  “I will rend you apart and feast on your flesh while you watch.”

  It took a step toward me, but I hit it with another blast of magic, aiming for the wound I’d inflicted. The brunt of my attack struck true; the creature flailed its arms to ward it off, and in the process its head whipped around. It stared at Declan, dazed and tethered to the wall.

  Adrenaline coursed through my body, counteracting my barely controlled terror. I couldn’t let it consume Declan’s power or I’d be fucked.

  I slashed the blade again and the strike cut deeper and wider into its back. Spinning to face me, it snarled and belched fire from its mouth.

  The old lore taught that hellfire was a staple in a demon’s arsenal. I expected this, but I still flinched when the flames hit my wards. Years of magical combat training kicked in, and I directed a blast of mage fire into the demon’s open maw. At the last second it blocked my
attack with a metal bracelet.

  We watched each other warily across the remains of Declan’s classroom. The thoughtful look scared me more than the previous attack, but time was my ally. Utrecht Academy boasted more than a dozen alpha mages on staff. One or more would answer the alarm. In addition, Utrecht only hired beta twos or higher for security. There was enough mage talent here to help me if I could keep the beast occupied a little longer.

  If I’d had time to prepare, and if Declan wasn’t nearby, I wouldn’t need help. Declan’s presence, however, complicated things. Keeping the demon from Declan without freeing my ex in the process was hard. Why the fuck had he raised a demon? How had he raised a demon? The Great Ward was an incredibly powerful spell; it kept creatures like the one Declan had raised out for good reason. The last time demons crossed into our world, they nearly killed everyone. What sane person . . . what insane person would want that?

  My enemy snuck a glance at Declan, finally deducing who had summoned it. It was bound to this room as long as Declan lived. The classroom, however, wasn’t a safe space for the demon. It needed to feed on Declan, but it knew I’d kill it if it ignored me. The lack of good options would make it desperate, which made it a very dangerous enemy.

  The next fiery attack lasted longer than the first, and the demon inched closer to Declan during the exchange. It couldn’t break Declan’s bonds without exposing itself to attack, but I didn’t want to let it close enough to make the attempt. Preparing my spell, I waited.