Womanizing Mage Novels & Stories

she trailed off staring at nothing. "Mage...isn't mage similar to a wizard?" Xavier asked hesitantly. "No!" Jade replied defiantly. "A mage is a wizard, yes, but he is a wizard who has chosen the dark path, a mage is a wizard who practices dark magic. A normal wizard wouldn't dare to do so, its forbidden", Jade's irises had red rings around them. She was upset and angry. Xaver just nodded. He understood where she was coming from. He knew the feeling. When a werewolf went rogue, he felt the same anger and remorse. No king or queen wanted their people to choose the wrong path.

At the age of 29, the woman has already become a very successful psychologist, whenever the group needs someone to talk to, she is the person that they run to. “Do you want us to drag you from the door to here? Hey Augustine, are you sure that's our Allana the great? “Maisie Watson, the ultimate its girl of the group, everyone is charmed by her looks and smooth talks, whatever the person’s orientation is, Maisie will always have a way to bend them over and answer to her calls.

Yes, she gave off a witch vibe, not a werewolf vibe. Her body proportions would've made me question my sexuality if I weren't already in love with Damien. Thinking about him, I really regret not telling him about everything going on with me. "We've got to test if it's her! Bring the old woman here!" She ordered the rogue, who didn't seem to take it lightly. "I don't take orders from witches!" He shouted, and I shouted back at him. "I'm not a witch, you damn moron. I'm a mage!"

Legarde knew, but be wanted to know what she thought. “No. I can see spirits but that’s all I can do. Nothing impressive like, setting my own hands on fire.” She turned Legarde’s hand in hers and gently rubbed the burn marks she discovered. He pouted playfully and shook his head at her insult. Her hands were soft and warm against his rough ones, and as she rubbed them with curiosity in her eyes and not repulse it warmed him. She didn’t know it yet, but she was a mage. No normal woman, who can only see spirits, can see a guardian so clearly both day and night. “You are something else. That’s not how I got those burns.”

I secretly swallowed because of the view. They were still shouting. I breathed deeply before starting to shake my body. "Shit! We missed you, Magda!!!" "You're mine now! I'll pay a lot!" "My f*cking hormones, sh*t! Shake it off Magda!" I could see in their eyes the admiration for my inherent beauty and charm. I felt like I'm a famous television actress that everyone is obsessed with, like pizza that will never be rejected when laid on the table, like wine and beers that can almost replace the water if swallowed, like a bad drug that when once you use, you will never stop using it and like a potion that once you have been subjected under its magic, you will never be able to escape anymore.

Kema's team was already there. The scene was one of ruthless coordination. A female mage with a scar across her right eye stood at the forefront, her hands glowing green as thick vines snaked up from the earth to entangle a snarling werewolf—from its yellow eyes and bloodstained fur, it was likely the same werewolf that had fled at the sound of Kema's voice. The beast thrashed wildly, its claws swiping at the air, but the vines held firm. The mage's face was taut with concentration, sweat dripping from her brow as her glowing hands trembled. Another mage moved swiftly, his fists encased in icy blades. With controlled movements, he struck at the rogue, forcing it to stagger back and weakening

“What a useless display this is.” The tone was biting, filled with disdain. All eyes turned toward the woman standing near the front, a tall figure dressed in dark violet robes that shimmered faintly with traces of magic. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes glowed faintly red under the dim lights. I recognized her immediately, even I knew of her reputation. She was Morgana, leader of the strongest coven of witches. A woman feared even among her own kind. “If this is what passes as a crucial discourse in an important gathering now,” she said, her lips curling in mockery, “then I see no reason to stay. If none of you are going to take things seriously, my coven will pull

The white-haired woman pulled a contraption from her robes, like the bridle of a horse. “What is that?” I recoiled. The mage with the melodious voice stepped forward and grabbed my face by the jaw, holding me still. I tried to pull away. The contraption had a metal bar with sharp looking spikes and a framework of leather straps. “Hold her,” the woman ordered the men as I screamed and struggled against them. The half-ogre roared in response, and for a moment, fought his way free of his guards. “Ianaceo,” she growled out at the ogre with the bitter bite of magic, and the ogre fell flat onto the floor, though he continued to growl and groan, he could not move. “Don’t make me do the same to you,

with that said the woman took off her cloak revealing her face to Serena. A growl left Serena's lips as she recognized the mage standing in front of her,she was the mage that stabbed Adrian. An involuntary growl left Serena lips as she glared at the woman with murder in her eyes, “you should should better pay I don’t get out of this cell because that mage of yours will be dead before she even tries to cast a spell” Serena said as the female mage smirked feeding Serena’s anger. “I like to see you try, hybrid” the mage said as her smirk never left her face.

My hatred of The nonsense Concept-of-Women's-Happiness-bullshit sister Elise taught me once, two years ago. I remember she said, "--at the end, a woman's ultimate happiness was to fulfill her destiny. To do so, thou shalt be modest but charming, full of smiles, calm in her nature, smooth in her speech, forgiving, loyal and devoted to thy husband, never rejects the will of thy husband and thy attitude towards his wives has no prejudice; sincere and full of understanding--,"