After My Husband Stole My Magic for His Mistress

The Plaza Hotel glittered like a diamond against the winter sky, its windows casting golden light onto the snow-covered streets of Manhattan. I stood at the entrance, my breath forming small clouds in the frigid air as I clutched my simple black gown tighter around my shoulders.

"Kehlani Ross," the doorman announced, his voice echoing through the marble foyer.

I stepped inside, expecting warmth but finding none. The grand ballroom of the Winter Gala stretched before me, a sea of crystal chandeliers and designer gowns, of polished suits and practiced smiles. The heating was turned up high, yet I shivered uncontrollably.

"Is it really that cold?" A woman beside me murmured to her companion, eyeing my trembling form with a mixture of pity and disdain.

I didn't answer. How could I explain that my coldness came from within? That giving away my Vital Essence had left me hollow, unable to regulate my own temperature?

"Kehlani!" Elena Thorne appeared at my side, her face a mask of concern. "You shouldn't be here. You're still recovering."

"I had to come," I whispered, my eyes scanning the crowd. "He invited me."

Elena's expression darkened. "That was cruel."

Across the room, a ripple of excitement spread through the crowd. Heads turned, glasses clinked, and conversations hushed as he entered.

Preston King.

My breath caught in my throat. He looked... powerful. Radiant. His tailored suit couldn't hide the new strength in his shoulders, the confidence in his stance. My magic suited him well.

But it wasn't his power that made my heart stutter. It was the woman clinging to his arm.

Andie Spencer.

She was everything I wasn't—fragile, delicate, her blonde hair cascading in perfect waves down her back. Her blue eyes sparkled with triumph as she surveyed the room, her lips curved in a permanent smile.

And around her shoulders, the Aegis Coat.

The legendary artifact shimmered with ancient magic, its golden threads catching the light. I recognized it immediately—Preston had promised to send it to me during the Hundred Days of Frost, when I'd nearly frozen to death in that Hamptons safehouse.

"It keeps me so warm," Andie's voice carried across the room as she touched the coat. "Preston says it's one of a kind."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

"Ladies and gentlemen." Preston's voice boomed through the ballroom as he took center stage. With a casual wave of his hand—my hand gesture, my magic—he silenced the crowd. "Welcome to the High Council's Winter Gala."

Applause erupted around us. I remained still, watching.

"I have an announcement to make," he continued, his eyes finding mine across the room. "As many of you know, the position of High Warlock requires certain... sacrifices."

The room fell silent again.

"One such sacrifice is the Blood Bond I share with Kehlani Ross." His voice hardened. "Tonight, I am formally requesting its annulment."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Blood Bonds were ancient, sacred things—not to be broken lightly.

"Kehlani is... incapable of fulfilling the duties of a High Warlock's consort," Preston said, his gaze never leaving mine. "Her lack of magic makes our union untenable."

"I gave you my magic," I said, stepping forward. My voice was quiet but carried in the sudden silence. "I saved your life."

Preston laughed, the sound cutting through me like a blade. "Is that what you think happened? That you saved me?" He shook his head. "I burdened myself with your weak essence to save you, Kehlani. You should be grateful."

The lie burned worse than the cold ever had.

"And now," Preston continued, pulling Andie closer, "I'd like to introduce you all to my intended fiancée. Andie Spencer."

Andie beamed, her hand possessively clutching Preston's arm.

"Kneel," Preston commanded suddenly, his eyes flashing with power.

I felt it before I saw it—the gravity spell descending, pressing down on my shoulders like a physical weight. My knees buckled despite my resistance.

"Kneel before Andie," he ordered, "and apologize for your past bullying and intimidation."

The room spun as I fought against the spell. My legs trembled with effort.

"I've never—" I began.

"Kneel!" Preston's voice cracked like thunder.

My body hit the floor, the marble cold against my skin. Andie stepped forward, her smile vicious.

"I'm waiting," she said softly.

I looked up at her, then at Preston. Something in me refused to break.

"I apologize," I whispered, my voice steady despite everything. "I apologize that you have to rely on a man who steals power to feel strong."

Preston's face contorted with rage. "Get her out of here," he snarled.

Two guards appeared at my sides, hauling me to my feet.

"The gala is for those who matter in our world," Preston announced to the room at large. "Not for those who've been left behind."

As they dragged me toward the exit, I caught one last glimpse of Andie's triumphant smile and Preston's cold eyes. Then the doors slammed behind me, leaving me alone in the snowy New York night.