Chapter 9:
– Amara –
"...Kill them!" the hideous wizard with the peg leg bellowed at the top of his lungs, his gravelly voice echoing through the overly-decorated hall.
I watched with a mix of irritation and amusement as he swung his staff wildly, pointing it at Morgana and then at me. I swear, the scarred old bastard looked positively unhinged as his twisted face contorted with barely contained rage.
A familiar, venomous green glow erupted from the tip of his staff, streaking directly toward Morgana. "Avada Kedavra!" he snarled, practically frothing at the mouth.
My heart instinctively lurched in fear for a split second before logic took over.
What the hell was I worried about? This was Morgana fucking le Fay standing beside me, ancient mistress of dark magic herself. My mentor barely even bothered to glance at the curse sailing towards her. Instead, with an almost lazy disdain, Morgana lifted one hand, casually flicking it sideways as if batting away a particularly annoying fly.
Her palm collided with the searing green magic, and the killing curse shattered into harmless green sparks, dissipating uselessly into nothingness.
The peg-legged wizard's eyes bulged grotesquely in their sockets as his jaw dropped open, exposing crooked, yellowed teeth. "What—? That's bloody impossible!" he choked out, his voice shaking. "No witch alive can block the Killing Curse with her bare hand! What manner of witchcraft—?"
Morgana laughed darkly at his pathetic incredulity. She tilted her head slightly, regarding the stunned old fool as if he were little more than a bug she could squash beneath her expensive heel. "You poor, ignorant, ugly excuse for a wizard," she purred smoothly. "I was wielding powers darker and more forbidden than your weak mind could ever fathom while your ancestors were still crawling around caves and clubbing each other with stones!"
The MACUSA President finally seemed to shake himself from his paralyzing shock at Morgana's display. His eyes darted frantically around the hall, finally focusing upon the rows of trembling witches and wizards who had gathered to stare at us with wide-eyed horror and confusion.
"For Merlin's sake, don't just stand there like idiots!" Myers thundered furiously, the veins in his forehead bulging. "Do your damned jobs! Fight these witches! Protect your president!"
A ripple of reluctant obedience stirred through the assembled wizards and witches, and they hesitantly raised their wands, clearly terrified but unwilling—or perhaps unable—to disobey their pompous leader's frantic orders.
Beside me, Morgana's confident, amused smile only widened further. She turned her gorgeous gaze toward me, nodding slightly. "Go ahead, my apprentice," she said silkily. "Let these self-righteous fools taste the true power of a Black witch."
That was all the encouragement I needed.
My lips curled into a wicked smirk as I raised my wand high above my head as magic surged powerfully through my veins.
"Burn," I hissed softly, pouring every ounce of my searing anger and rage into the spell.
In an instant, black flames erupted from the tip of my wand, blazing hot and impossibly dark, coiling and writhing until the fiery shape solidified clearly—a massive serpent of ebony fire, easily as thick and powerful as a fully-grown basilisk. The beast's eyes glowed like molten lava, its gaping mouth dripping smoking embers onto the polished marble floor.
No, this wasn't true Fiendfyre—not quite. But it was damn close, and I'd lovingly practiced the brutal spell until I'd practically perfected its lethal potential. I glanced briefly around the room, locking eyes with several MACUSA agents who stared back at my creation with growing dread and horror.
Then, with a graceful flick of my wrist, I commanded the enormous flaming snake forward. "Kill them all," I whispered coldly.
Chaos erupted immediately. The massive serpent of black flames lunged forward, jaws wide, fangs of pure molten fire snapping viciously around screaming MACUSA witches and wizards. In an instant, their robes ignited into agonizing flames, their flesh sizzling grotesquely as they shrieked and flailed helplessly. They burned alive—charred, smoking corpses collapsing and littering the expensive, decorative halls.
Panicked screams echoed deafeningly through the vast chamber, blending into a symphony of terror and pain. I watched as my conjured serpent lashed out again and again, consuming more terrified victims in its searing jaws.
Some MACUSA agents tried desperately to flee, but the fiery snake effortlessly pursued them, slithering swiftly across the hall, leaving trails of burning devastation in its wake.
I briefly wondered why the hell the Court of Owls had even been remotely concerned about MACUSA. Honestly, these arrogant magical government assholes had turned out to be utterly incompetent at casting even the simplest of combat spells. These witches and wizards flailed and stumbled, their spells flying wildly off-target or fizzling out entirely because they were too scared to even cast them in the first place. Frankly, they would've been a hell of a lot more dangerous if someone had handed them a bunch of guns instead of wands.
"Hold the line, you pathetic fools!" President Myers shouted desperately from across the hall, his face flushed crimson with outrage and humiliation. Sweat poured down his forehead as he wildly gestured at his panicked and rapidly dwindling forces. "Reinforcements are coming soon, damn you! Keep casting your fucking spells! Protect your president!"
I snorted softly in disdain. The man was hysterical, screeching impotently like a child having a tantrum—his command utterly ignored by the terrified remnants of MACUSA agents as they fled in blind panic, screaming hysterically while my black flame serpent gleefully pursued them across the marble floors. Of course there was no escape for any of them. The Court wanted them all dead, and I imagined they were willing to pay us a hefty bonus to make them happen. Morgana hadn't mentioned anything about us getting paid—now that I thought about it—but obviously I knew she was a woman who wouldn't work for free like this.
Myers turned furiously toward the ugly, peg-legged wizard still futilely firing spell after spell at Morgana—spells she barely acknowledged beyond lazily swatting them aside with casual contempt. "For the love of Merlin, Moody! You're supposed to be the greatest fucking Dark Wizard hunter alive! Do something! Defeat these damn witches already!" Myers shrieked, spittle flying from his mouth in his crazed desperation.
Moody's scarred face contorted into a mask of barely-contained fury, his grotesque magical eye spinning rapidly as his lips peeled back in a furious snarl. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing, you ignorant bastard?" Moody spat venomously, aiming another furious hex directly at Morgana. "These witches are far beyond anything I've faced in decades! I'm trying, damn it!"
"Trying, are you?" Morgana purred mockingly with a wicked smirk curving her flawless lips. She flicked a finger at the vivid red spell Moody hurled toward her, effortlessly deflecting the potent magic with insulting ease. "Perhaps you should 'try' a bit harder, old man. I'm actually growing rather bored of your pathetic attempts."
My mentor was a glorious fucking sight to behold. Watching her toy with the man named Moody so casually sent pleasant shivers racing down my spine.
But I didn't have the luxury of losing myself entirely in admiration. My attention returned swiftly to the burning carnage of my own making. The enormous black serpent of magical flame that I'd conjured continued to ravage the room, jaws of molten fire snapping viciously around its screaming victims.
One by one, MACUSA agents fell beneath the blistering heat of my spell, their robes igniting into roaring, merciless flames that consumed their flesh down to charred bone and ash. Their pitiful screams of agony echoed hauntingly throughout the lavish chamber—music to my ears, frankly.
Just as I admired my own dark handiwork, an icy tingle raced sharply down my spine—a sudden, instinctive warning screaming urgently in the back of my mind.
Danger!
I reacted instantly. My succubus bat-like wings burst from my back. At the same time, my slender tail shot eagerly out from the base of my tailbone.
I propelled myself up toward the high vaulted ceiling, just as five voices rang out simultaneously from behind me.
"""""Bombarda!"""""
A deafening explosion detonated exactly where I'd been standing just seconds earlier, shattering the marble tiles into jagged shrapnel and leaving behind a smoking crater of destruction.
"Damn," I purred wickedly, glancing down at the ruined floor as I hovered above the room, my wings beating lazily behind me. My heart raced wildly with exhilaration at my narrow escape, a savage grin spreading slowly across my lips. "That was a close one, boys."
My gaze shifted toward the newcomers who'd attempted their surprise attack. A group of young wizards around my own age stood clustered together near the entrance hall—clearly the "reinforcements" Myers had been screaming about earlier. They wore matching badges prominently displayed upon their robes, insignias that presumably marked them as MACUSA's newest generation of Aurors.
Young, brave, foolish—and from their wide-eyed expressions of shock, entirely unprepared to face someone like me.
I tilted my head thoughtfully, giving them a teasing, seductive smirk. "Really? You lot are the cavalry Myers was counting on?" I laughed mockingly, shaking my head. "Well, fuck me, I suppose I shouldn't have expected much. Still, props for the effort."
They gaped openly at me, their expressions frozen into horrified disbelief as their eyes traced my wings and the sinuous tail swishing gently behind me. Their wands shook visibly in their trembling hands.
"W-what the hell is she?" one terrified Auror finally choked out, his voice cracking pathetically as he took an instinctive step backward.
"Sh-she's not human!" another stammered fearfully, his wand nearly slipping from his shaking fingers. "Oh my god, she's got wings! And a tail!"
The Auror beside him sputtered in blind panic, finally screaming aloud with an almost comical hysteria. "Demon! She's a fucking demon!"
The five MACUSA Aurors—if you could even generously call these trembling rookies by that actual title—stared up at me with widened, frightened eyes. Their wands shook like leaves caught in a storm, faces pale beneath the flickering lights cast by my raging serpent of ebony flames. Still, to their credit, the terrified bastards stood their ground bravely, doing their absolute best to put on a show of courage.
"F-form ranks!" their apparent leader, a brown-haired young wizard around my own age, stammered nervously, desperately attempting to muster authority as his voice cracked pathetically. "Concentrate your spells—she can't evade us all at once! Hold steady!"
I laughed softly, shaking my head. Gods, they really had no fucking clue, did they?
"Aw, aren't you cute?" I purred mockingly from my elevated position above them, gracefully hovering with languid beats of my powerful succubus wings. My sinuous tail swished lazily behind me as I met the leader's panicked gaze, flashing him a sultry, wicked grin. "Such admirable confidence for a man trembling like a frightened virgin."
Ok, by the technical definition of the word I was still a virgin too, but they didn't need to know that!
He flushed deeply at my taunt, jaw tightening stubbornly. With a shaky inhale, he thrust his wand upwards, defiantly shouting, "All together! Stupefy!"
Seriously? They were gonna use stunning spells now?
Immediately, his four comrades echoed his desperate cry, simultaneously firing off a volley of red stunning spells. But from my aerial vantage point, avoiding their frantic, poorly aimed attacks was laughably simple. A smooth tilt of my wings carried me effortlessly to the left, their spells sailing harmlessly past my former position, sizzling uselessly into the high vaulted ceiling.
"Come now," I taunted softly, floating above them with insulting ease. "Surely the MACUSA Aurors can do better than that pitiful attempt?"
They hurriedly regrouped below me.
"Don't give up!" the leader snapped in growing desperation. "Try again, damn it!"
"You're adorable when you're flustered," I teased him playfully, enjoying his rising panic immensely. "Perhaps it's time I demonstrated how a real witch casts her spells."
I raised my wand deliberately, aiming directly for the nervous young wizard standing furthest left—the weakest link in their flimsy chain. He noticed my intention, eyes widening in horror, but far too late to evade the lethal hex that escaped my lips in a seductive whisper.
"Corruptio Viscera!"
He shrieked pitifully as his skin swelled like a balloon—and then he popped. Blood spraying in all directions!
"She killed him!"
"Oh my god! I didn't sign up for this!"
"He exploded! We need to run!"
Yet still, against all reason, the leader bravely raised his wand again. "Don't run! We have to slay this demon here or all is lost! We can do this!"
Spells flew wildly upwards, a chaotic mixture of curses and hexes that I easily evaded with graceful twists and turns in the air, laughing delightedly as their desperate efforts repeatedly failed.
With a bored flick of my wand, I unleashed a blazing fireball of roaring black flames that streaked downwards mercilessly. It engulfed another screaming Auror completely, consuming her body in a blistering inferno.
"Two down," I purred seductively, lazily examining my remaining prey. "Three more frightened little mice to go."
The remaining Aurors visibly trembled, terror etched deeply upon their pale faces. One stumbled backwards, frantically babbling pleas for mercy and forgiveness.
"No—no, please!" he begged desperately, tears streaming openly down his cheeks. "We surrender! For the love of Merlin, spare us!"
I tilted my head thoughtfully, feigning consideration. "Oh, spare you?" I murmured sweetly, eyes glittering cruelly. "But that's no fun at all."
Before the sniveling coward could even blink, a scorching lash of flame erupted violently from my wand, slicing brutally through his pleading throat. His final gurgled scream ended abruptly as he toppled backwards, collapsing into a lifeless heap.
The two survivors—only the leader and a trembling wizard with blonde hair remained—stood frozen, eyes glazed with helpless terror. Their wands hung limply at their sides, utterly defeated.
"Look at you," I purred softly, floating smoothly downwards until my elegant black wings folded behind me. I landed lightly, advancing toward them with seductive steps. "So brave, so proud... now reduced to frightened, whimpering children."
The young leader swallowed audibly, raising his wand defiantly despite the hopelessness etched clearly upon his face. "We...we won't surrender to evil," he whispered stubbornly, voice quivering with suppressed fear.
I laughed softly, genuinely amused. "Evil?" I echoed mockingly, stepping intimately close, placing a single delicate finger beneath his trembling chin. "You think I'm evil?" I asked while staring into his eyes.
His breath hitched sharply, eyes wide and glassy with fear, arousal, and confusion.
But before he could utter another heroic remark, my tail whipped viciously forward, plunging through his chest. His eyes widened in shocked disbelief. I withdrew smoothly, allowing his lifeless body to collapse heavily at my feet.
That left only the trembling blond wizard remaining, eyes wild with hysteria, sobbing uncontrollably as she stared helplessly at her fallen companions.
"Please!" he whimpered brokenly. "Please just end it quickly."
"As you wish." My wand lifted one final time.
"Avada Kedavra."
…I slowly stepped over the remains of the last Auror I'd slaughtered, lazily making my way toward Morgana. She stood in the center of the grand hall. The marble floors were now slick with crimson blood and littered with dozens of charred corpses. The air stank heavily of smoke, death, and burned flesh, yet Morgana appeared entirely unbothered by the gruesome carnage we'd wrought together.
If anything, my beautiful dark mentor seemed thoroughly amused as she gazed at her two newest captives.
At Morgana's feet knelt the MACUSA President and that hideous wizard named Moody, both utterly defeated, bound securely with glowing magical ropes that coiled tightly around their bodies. Thick, enchanted gags stuffed their mouths, muffling any pathetic sounds or insults they might try to shout at us.
I leisurely approached Morgana, savoring the intoxicating rush of power still humming through my veins from the slaughter I'd just unleashed. And I wasn't done yet either!
Morgana turned toward me, watching my every step as I drew closer.
"Well, Morgana," I purred softly as I reached her side, giving her a wicked smile, "I suppose we handled the Court of Owls' little request rather efficiently, didn't we?"
Morgana didn't reply immediately. Instead, she stared at me intently, something calculating flickering in her gaze. Before I had the chance to question her reaction, Morgana abruptly reached out and grasped my tail firmly with her soft fingers, wrapping them around the sensitive appendage and squeezing gently.
A sharp, intense bolt of pure pleasure surged violently up my tailbone, racing up my spine and slamming into every nerve ending in my body. My legs instantly turned weak beneath me, and a startled moan spilled unbidden from my lips.
Morgana smirked mischievously, her grip tightening possessively around my tail as she yanked me closer toward her until I stumbled forward, colliding intimately against her lithe body.
"What—?" I gasped breathlessly, my heart now hammering wildly inside my chest as I gazed into Morgana's amused eyes, my cheeks flushed hotly. "Morgana, what are you—?"
But she silenced my confused question immediately, pressing her full, supple lips fiercely against mine in a hungry, dominating kiss. Morgana's tongue immediately invaded my mouth. I melted helplessly into her embrace, moaning against her mouth as she teased and stroked my sensitive tail in firm, rhythmic motions, keeping me deliciously off-balance and needy.
Morgana's free hand boldly moved upwards, roughly groping my breasts through the thin fabric of my tight shirt, fingers squeezing and kneading the soft, heavy flesh possessively. My nipples instantly hardened into stiff peaks beneath her skilled touch, pleasure coiling tightly within my core.
"Mmmph!" I groaned helplessly into Morgana's mouth, my body trembling uncontrollably as overwhelming sensations built rapidly. Her soft fingers continued their relentless stroking of my tail, each firm stroke sending another surge of molten heat racing straight between my thighs. I felt myself rapidly losing control.
And then, with a final teasing squeeze of my tail, Morgana pushed me over the edge. Pure ecstasy exploded violently within me, my entire body spasming uncontrollably as an intense orgasm tore through me without warning.
"Fuck—!" I gasped raggedly, breaking our heated kiss as my head fell limply against her shoulder. My legs shook, knees almost buckling beneath me as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through my body, leaving me dazed and breathless.
Morgana chuckled softly, holding me firmly against her chest until my trembling finally began to subside. Once my heart rate slowed slightly, she released my tail gently, letting her hand rest comfortably on my lower back instead.
"Are you calm now, my beautiful apprentice?" Morgana whispered into my ear teasingly, her voice low and husky. "Or do you need another...reminder?"
I slowly lifted my head, gazing up at her with flushed cheeks, panting softly. "I'm—I'm fine now, Morgana," I stammered breathlessly, embarrassment and satisfaction warring within me. "But damn, Mistress...a little warning next time?"
Morgana smirked knowingly, her emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. "A warning?" she repeated playfully, shaking her head slowly. "No, I don't think so, my dear. You needed that."
"Needed it?" I echoed, slightly confused.
She sighed softly, becoming suddenly serious as she cupped my face gently with one hand, making me look directly into her eyes. "Yes, Amara. I know you felt incredible rage toward this Moody. Your anger was justified. But you cannot lose yourself entirely to your demonic side. You became much more sadistic than I'd expected. It's crucial to keep control of yourself, even in moments of fury."
I bit my lower lip nervously, remembering vividly how I'd brutally slaughtered those young Aurors. "I—I suppose you're right, Mistress," I admitted reluctantly, feeling strangely guilty. "I didn't realize just how far gone I was. I completely lost myself in my rage and my power."
Morgana stroked my cheek soothingly with her thumb, her expression softening slightly. "I understand, my sweet apprentice. And trust me, your fierce passion is exactly what makes you so incredibly powerful and appealing. But control is equally important. If you become completely consumed by fury, you'll eventually make a mistake. And that mistake could cost us everything we've worked for up to this point. Revenge is meaningless if you die in the pursuit of it…"
I nodded slowly, understanding the seriousness of her words. "You're right," I whispered softly. "I won't let it happen again. I'll learn to harness and control my anger better, I promise."
Although, I wasn't sure how possible that was considering my anger was a drawback from my System itself. It was almost built into my very soul.
"Good girl," Morgana praised gently, brushing a soft, affectionate kiss against my forehead. "And remember, whenever your anger threatens to consume you...I'll always be right here to help calm you down again."
I smiled warmly at her comforting promise, feeling reassured. "Thank you, Mistress."
Morgana chuckled softly, giving me another playful, teasing squeeze on my tail. "Of course, my dear," she murmured sensually. "Now, are you ready to deal with these two pathetic fools?"
"I thought you'd never ask…" I replied.
Morgana ripped the gag violently from Moody's scarred, ugly face, causing his head to jerk forward roughly from the force of her tug. The bound wizard immediately began coughing and sputtering loudly. His breath wheezed and rasped, struggling for air as he glared upwards with visible contempt burning in his mismatched eyes. "You filthy dark witches make me sick!" Moody snarled venomously. "Only twisted, fucked-up daughters of Voldemort himself would be involved in a disgusting, incestuous relationship like the two of you clearly are!"
I raised an eyebrow incredulously, exchanging a quick glance with Morgana. Neither of us bothered correcting Moody's wildly incorrect assumption about us supposedly being twin sisters. He could think whatever shit he wanted.
"Amara, my darling apprentice," she began, her voice low, calm, and filled with anticipation, "I believe the time has finally come for me to properly instruct you on the art of torturing someone for information."
Moody immediately barked out a bitter, hateful laugh. "Ha! Do your worst, you twisted witch. I've faced far more skilled torturers than you over the years. Even the Cruciatus Curse itself is nothing but a bloody tickle to me at this point! I'll never break. You'll get nothing out of Alastor Moody."
"Oh, you poor, arrogant fool," she murmured softly, almost pityingly, as she reached out and placed her fingertips gently beneath his chin. "The Cruciatus Curse? That boring, predictable, tedious spell is your reference point for pain and torture?" She laughed mockingly again, shaking her head slowly. "Honestly, it's so pathetic how limited your imagination is. That curse is a tool for lazy, inexperienced children."
Moody's bravado faltered slightly beneath Morgana's mocking words. A flicker of uncertainty passed briefly through his mismatched eyes before he swiftly masked it again behind a façade of hatred and determination. "You won't intimidate me, witch," he growled stubbornly. "Do whatever the hell you want to my body—I'll never betray my secrets or my allies!"
"We shall see..."
– Kara Zor-El –
The sun's rays beat down warmly on Kara's bruised, sore body as she soared back toward Metropolis. She still ached everywhere from that relentless beating Amazo had dealt her back in Star City. The cuts and bruises adorning her toned limbs and smooth skin were already visibly healing thanks to the sunlight. Kryptonian physiology was one hell of an advantage.
But she wasn't flying anywhere near her top speed, which left her feeling impatient and frustrated. Behind her, Raven was trailing along through the air, effortlessly supported by that eerie cloak of shadows she always used. Nightwing was tucked carefully beneath Raven's arm, awkwardly gripping her tightly as they flew.
Kara sighed softly, glancing back impatiently once again, waiting for them to catch up.
It wasn't Raven's fault that they were moving slowly. The empathic young woman had already helped tremendously back in Star City, after all. Kara knew she shouldn't complain. Still, the wait gave her far too much time to think about the surreal, infuriatingly complicated situation she found herself in now.
Amara Black.
The name was practically branded into Kara's brain now, tormenting her. The first beautiful, charming, charismatic woman she'd met on Earth just had to turn out to be the apprentice of Morgana le Fay. The same Morgana whose deranged son Mordred had nearly destroyed Metropolis mere months earlier.
Now Morgana had a new apprentice to replace her dead son. And of course, of all the fucking humans on this stupid blue planet, it just had to be the stunningly beautiful, flirty girl Kara had impulsively gone on a date with mere hours earlier.
"Fuck," Kara muttered to herself bitterly, shaking her head in disbelief. "My life back on Krypton was never even close to this fucked-up and complicated."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the skies directly above Metropolis. Kara immediately halted in midair, hovering impatiently as she waited for Raven to catch up again.
Raven smoothly extended one hand outward, conjuring a wide platform of solid darkness that appeared beneath their feet. Kara slowly landed upon it, sighing gratefully as she stretched out her tense muscles. She folded her arms tightly beneath her chest, trying to calm her frayed nerves as she glanced expectantly toward Raven and Nightwing.
"So," Kara began irritably, frustration clear in her tone, "where the hell do you two think we should even start looking for Amara? Metropolis is huge, and I honestly don't even know where to begin." She exhaled sharply, voice laced with bitter self-reproach. "God, I can't believe I got fooled like this. How was I supposed to know my cute date was literally a sadistic magical villainess?"
Nightwing rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, appearing sympathetic rather than amused by Kara's plight. "Don't beat yourself up, Kara," he offered gently. "Amara is…. She's dangerously charismatic. But I still have hope that she can be redeemed!"
"It will be difficult, but I believe with the connection she and I share, that I can lead her away from the darkness," Raven said almost right after. Raven and Nightwing then exchanged almost competitive looks for some reason before they both turned and stared at Kara.
As if they were waiting for her to say something similar?
Kara stared silently at Nightwing and Raven for a few awkward seconds, slowly piecing together a realization from the strange, tense expressions etched across their faces.
Were they… blushing?
Oh, for fuck's sake… Kara thought irritably, biting back an exasperated sigh. It suddenly clicked. These two superheroes—were blushing like teenagers. They clearly both had crushes on Amara, too.
Great. Just fucking perfect. Not only had Kara herself impulsively flirted with the gorgeous, green-eyed woman mere hours ago—now it seemed the alluring apprentice of Morgana Le Fay had effortlessly entranced Raven and Nightwing, too.
Exactly how many of Earth's superheroes had the beautiful villainess managed to charm already?
"Okay, look," Kara finally said, shaking off her annoyance. She rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, frustration dripping from her voice. "I'm going to forget about the awkward revelation I just had, for now. We need to find Amara before anything else. The problem is, this city's huge. Where do we even begin looking?"
Nightwing sighed. "You're right, Kara. This isn't the time to argue or get distracted." He turned toward Raven. "Raven, can you sense anything? Maybe pick up Amara's magic somehow?"
Raven took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. When she reopened them, her eyes flashed for a moment. "Actually, yes. I can feel a strong concentration of dark magic nearby—over in that direction," she answered, pointing toward downtown Metropolis. "It's potent enough that it must've happened very recently."
"Then that's our best lead," Kara agreed impatiently. "Take us there, Raven."
The shadowy platform beneath their feet moved swiftly across the skyline. Within moments, they were hovering directly above a large office building.
The entire front wall and entrance doors of the building were smashed open, shattered chunks of debris scattered across the pavement. Even from here, Kara's heightened senses picked up the strong, coppery stench of blood.
"I smell a lot of blood down there. This is going to be bad."
Raven slowly lowered their platform, allowing the three heroes to land gently on the street outside the wrecked office building. They cautiously approached the ruined entrance together, stepping carefully over broken rubble and shattered glass littering the ground.
As they stepped inside, Kara immediately felt bile rising in her throat at the horrific sight before them.
"Fuck…" Nightwing whispered hoarsely, staring wide-eyed at the devastation around them.
Kara clenched her jaw tightly, fists balling at her sides as she took in the horrific carnage. Bodies lay everywhere, twisted and charred beyond recognition. Many had obviously been burned alive, their blackened limbs curled grotesquely, still smoking faintly. Blood pooled thickly across the marble floors, smeared crimson footprints showing where panicked victims had tried and failed to escape.
"Amara did all this?" Kara whispered incredulously, voice shaking with disbelief. She felt sickened to her core. How could the beautiful woman who'd smiled so charmingly at her just hours ago cause such ruthless devastation? It didn't seem possible. "Are you sure it was her?"
"Trust me," Raven said quietly, kneeling down and placing a gentle palm over one of the burned bodies. She grimaced as her eyes glowed faintly, her brow furrowing in concentration. "There's no doubt. I can sense the dark fire magic here clearly. Exactly like Amara's signature energy when we encountered her before. Morgana's aura is also unmistakable."
Nightwing moved cautiously through the wreckage, scanning their surroundings intently. "So Amara was definitely here with Morgana," he murmured, still processing the scene. He stopped suddenly, eyes narrowing as he noticed a large, partially burned banner hanging from one wall. "'Magical Congress of the United States of America'? What the hell? Have either of you ever heard of such a thing?"
Raven shook her head slowly, eyes wide with surprise. "No, I've never come across that name before in any of my readings. I had no idea something like this even existed."
Kara shook her head too, equally confused. "Me neither. Sounds like some secret government thing, obviously magical in nature. But why would Amara and Morgana target it?"
Nightwing quickly moved over to a nearby computer terminal, surprisingly intact amid the carnage. Pulling out a small device from his utility belt, he began rapidly hacking into the machine. His gloved fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, breaking through passwords and encryptions effortlessly.
After a tense moment, Nightwing stopped typing, staring at the computer screen with visible shock. "Holy shit," he whispered, face going pale. He swallowed hard, visibly shaken.
"What? What is it?" Kara demanded urgently, moving quickly to stand beside him. "Nightwing, tell us!"
He exhaled heavily, looking up at Kara and Raven with an expression of grim disbelief. "You're not gonna fucking believe this—but it looks like this place really was some kind of secret magical government organization. Like an Illuminati for witches and wizards or something. And they weren't exactly benevolent. "
Raven stepped forward nervously. "What were they doing?"
Nightwing shook his head slowly, visibly disturbed. "According to their internal documents, this MACUSA group wanted complete control over the entire magical population, enforced through extreme measures. Anyone who resisted their authority would be executed. They had lists—long, detailed lists—of civilians slated for imprisonment or death."
"What the fuck…" Kara breathed.
"It gets even worse," Nightwing continued darkly. "MACUSA had also identified regular, non-magical humans who discovered magic—including most of us in the Justice League. They had every one of our secret identities documented here, listed as targets for immediate assassination. They were literally planning to murder superheroes and normal people alike to maintain their secrecy and control."
"Oh my god," Raven whispered shakily, looking horrified.
Kara stared at the carnage around them with a new understanding dawning in her mind. She voiced the question none of them wanted to consider. "So wait—if all these people were actually dangerous, genocidal assholes, does that mean Amara and Morgana actually did the right thing by killing them all?"
Obviously, her cousin would NOT approve.
Growing up on a more rigid Krypton, Kara was more used to evil criminals being executed or sentenced to the phantom zone.
– Amara –
Gotham and Metropolis were neighboring cities, so it wasn't a long drive between the two places. Morgana compelled some random limo driver into chauffeuring us back home.
It was about a two-hour drive, and I spent most of that time pampering Daphne and Astoria shamelessly.
Both of the gorgeous Greengrass sisters sat comfortably beside me in the spacious limo—Daphne on my left, Astoria cuddled close against my right. I lavished praise upon them, stroking their egos as much as their luscious bodies. Honestly, they deserved every bit of my affection tonight. After all, despite never killing anyone before—aside from Daphne's earlier case of self-defense when I first rescued them—they'd done an impressively ruthless job dealing with the MACUSA agents who'd tried to escape the slaughter.
They didn't let a single person escape the building while Morgana and I were having our "fun."
"You two were fucking incredible tonight," I purred softly, running my fingertips gently up and down Daphne's smooth thigh, feeling her tremble slightly under my touch. "Honestly, Morgana and I couldn't have asked for better witches watching our backs."
Daphne smiled, her cheeks flushed attractively pink from the combination of my praise and the lingering adrenaline of battle. She shifted closer, her warm breath teasing across my ear as she whispered softly, "You really mean that, Amara? We weren't sure how you'd react. Astoria was nervous we'd disappoint you and Lady Morgana."
Astoria's head popped up immediately from where she'd rested it on my shoulder, eyes wide with adorable indignation. "Daphne!" she protested, cheeks heating as she shot her sister an embarrassed glare. "You weren't supposed to tell her that!"
I chuckled, pressing a soft, soothing kiss against Astoria's forehead, feeling her instantly melt into my affection. "You silly girls," I teased gently, my voice low and intimate. "You're part of our coven. Morgana and I trust you implicitly. And after tonight, it's clear we've made the right choice bringing you both into this life."
Their bright smiles told me I'd said exactly what they'd needed to hear. My lips found their way next to Astoria's neck, gently sucking and biting the soft skin there until I left behind a deep red mark—a visible reminder of how proud I was. She whimpered softly, leaning into my touch.
Not to be outdone, Daphne cleared her throat lightly, tilting her head to expose the elegant, pale curve of her own throat. "Don't forget about me," she murmured playfully, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with anticipation.
"As if I ever could," I teased right back, leaning over to trail sensual kisses along Daphne's neck, adding yet another possessive mark to match her sister's. By the time the limo finally slowed to a stop, both Greengrass sisters wore multiple, prominent hickeys along their slender throats.
Morgana chuckled indulgently from her spot across from us. "Such eager, lovely girls," she said lightly. "Amara, my dear apprentice, you'll need to finish rewarding them properly once we're safely back home. For now, we have a bit of business to conclude."
"Of course, Mistress," I agreed immediately, reluctantly untangling myself from the Greengrass sisters and giving them each a final gentle kiss. "You two stay put. Morgana and I shouldn't take long."
We stepped out of the limo together into the dirty night air of Gotham. We moved to the back of the vehicle, popping open the trunk.
The MACUSA president, Alexander Myers, lay tightly bound and gagged in the trunk, his eyes wide with horror. Of course, that might've had something to do with his traveling companion. Moody's severed head was nestled casually right beside him, staring blankly up at the terrified president through lifeless, mismatched eyes.
"Comfortable ride, Mr. President?" I mocked, smirking cruelly at his horrified reaction. "I do hope our friend Moody didn't make for overly unpleasant company. Though to be fair, you and he seemed pretty close back at MACUSA headquarters."
Myers made frantic, muffled protests through the gag, squirming uselessly against the magical ropes binding him tightly. I laughed softly, flicking my wand casually in his direction, easily levitating his trembling body out of the trunk to hover helplessly before us.
Morgana chuckled darkly, shutting the trunk once more and gesturing toward the discreetly hidden entrance of the Court of Owls' secret safehouse just across the street. "Come along, Mr. President," she said mockingly. "Our employers are eager to see you."
Together, we entered, ready to deliver our prisoner and collect the payment we rightfully deserved.
Congratulations on successfully bringing down your first government body! Even if it was a very small one that consisted of a few dozen people and a single building!
You have been awarded a [Familiar Egg!] Whatever magical creature closest matches you will eventually hatch from the egg, and be soul bound to you as well. Upon death it will always revive as long as you are still alive. The egg will incubate in your inventory until it's ready to hatch!
I smiled at the notification before dismissing it. Getting a familiar sounded fun, as long as it wasn't a penguin… Just because I could speak with them did not make us compatible!
It sort of does… But it won't be a penguin. Probably.
"Is something wrong, Amara? You're pouting at the… air?" Morgana asked me while glancing around, probably wondering what I was looking at.
I quickly shook my head and told her it was nothing.
…
We were finally back home at our luxurious warehouse—the one Morgana and I had forcibly liberated from the Penguin.
Right now, we were both lounging comfortably on the large leather couch. I sighed contentedly, stretching out my freshly-showered legs and letting my body sink into the soft cushions.
"Feeling better now, my darling apprentice?" Morgana asked gently, her soft voice breaking the comfortable silence between us. She reached out casually, letting her hand trail along my bare thigh beneath the silk robe I wore.
I tilted my head lazily toward her, giving her a small, satisfied nod. "Much calmer," I replied quietly, sighing softly as her fingertips traced lazy, teasing circles over my skin.
Honestly, I'm amazed at how quickly that [Simmering Fury] subsided.
I'd have happily killed that scarred old bastard for free if I knew Dumbledore's friend was going to be there. "...But getting paid fifty million dollars by the Court of Owls for doing exactly that—now that was just a beautiful bonus."
She laughed softly again as she stroked my thigh soothingly. "Yes, the Court was rather generous. They were clearly pleased by our efficient handling of MACUSA. I expect they'll be requesting our assistance again in the future when they need people to become dead..."
I let out a sigh, shifting slightly closer to her on the couch until my head rested comfortably against her shoulder. "Did you arrange that special delivery as we discussed?"
Morgana's lips curled into a wicked smile. "Of course," she purred smugly. "His severed head is already securely packaged and en route across the ocean to Scotland as we speak. By tomorrow morning, Headmaster Dumbledore will receive a rather... memorable parcel."
I smiled slowly, unable to suppress a pleased chuckle. "God, I almost wish I could see the look on that sanctimonious old bastard's face when he opens the box," I muttered darkly. "I bet he'll be positively horrified."
"Undoubtedly," Morgana agreed calmly, clearly enjoying the thought as well. She squeezed my thigh gently, pulling my attention back to her and away from vengeful fantasies. "But enough about Dumbledore for now, my sweet. Our delightful Greengrass sisters seem to be keeping us waiting tonight."
I glanced toward the stairs, noticing their absence. "True," I agreed idly, feeling a slight pang of impatience. "They're certainly taking their time up there getting cleaned up. Neither of them were even covered in blood like we were…"
We fell silent again, simply relaxing together on the comfortable couch as we waited. After several long minutes, the sound of footsteps finally echoed softly down the staircase.
And then, Daphne and Astoria appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Holy shit..." I whispered breathlessly, eyes widening as I drank in the mesmerizing sight before me.
Daphne and Astoria Greengrass—two stunningly beautiful blonde sisters—stood side by side, staring boldly down at us. Both wore skimpy white lingerie that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The delicate, transparent fabric hugged their slender bodies perfectly, emphasizing every mouth-watering curve. Daphne's ample breasts pressed invitingly against the sheer lace of her bra, her pale skin glowing softly beneath the lights. Astoria's smaller but equally alluring figure looked equally irresistible, her petite body accentuated enticingly by her own revealing outfit. Their long, toned legs were bare and smooth, clearly on display for our gazes.
I swallowed audibly, unable to tear my eyes away from them. My pulse thundered violently inside my chest, heat pooling between my thighs.
"Well, well," Morgana purred appreciatively beside me, sounding equally affected by their sultry appearance. "It seems our beautiful new coven members are finally finished keeping us waiting."
Astoria smiled shyly, her cheeks flushed faintly pink beneath our combined lustful stares. But it was Daphne who spoke first, voice low and sultry, filled with impatience.
"You promised to reward us properly tonight, Amara. And we have no intention of waiting any longer." Daphne announced boldly…
Astoria nodded quickly, biting her lower lip nervously even as she boldly approached me. "You said we were incredible earlier," she murmured softly, gazing shyly into my eyes. "We thought we deserved something special tonight."
My breath hitched sharply in my throat as the sisters stopped directly before the couch, practically within touching distance. Their intoxicating presence overwhelmed me completely, my entire body suddenly feeling flushed and unbearably aroused.
"You absolutely do," I managed to reply hoarsely, heart racing wildly. "Fuck, you both look incredible tonight."
"Then perhaps," Daphne purred seductively, reaching down slowly and untying the silk sash holding my robe closed, "you'll finally stop wasting time and show us exactly how much you appreciate us."
– Lily –
The atmosphere in the Potter household had become unbearably tense ever since her husband James and their son James Junior were hit with the curse of impotence. Lily felt like she was living in a house constantly filled with simmering rage. Every conversation felt like walking on eggshells, every silence weighed heavy with resentment.
Her sex life with James was officially dead and buried. Ever since the curse took effect, they'd attempted intimacy a handful of times, but James couldn't get himself hard even once. They had finally stopped trying altogether, leaving them both sexually frustrated and irritable. Her husband was angry all the time now. He sulked around the house, snapping at everyone and everything. She missed how he used to be—before all of this happened, when he was charming, funny, and confident.
But James wasn't the only one dealing badly with the curse. James Junior was just as angry, just as miserable. He spent most of his time locked away in his bedroom, refusing to talk or even look his parents in the eye. Lily knew exactly why her son had become so withdrawn. His girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, had broken up with him recently. The poor girl had snuck into James Junior's bedroom earlier that summer. Ginny had apparently decided that she was ready to lose her virginity to him. But when James Junior couldn't get it up, no matter how much Ginny tried to get him hard, she had gotten frustrated and humiliated. And right after that embarrassing night, she promptly dumped him.
James Junior hadn't exactly been quiet about how bitter he was over the whole thing. Just a few nights ago, Lily had stood quietly outside his door, hearing him angrily venting on the phone to one of his friends.
"That stupid bitch was supposed to belong to me! What's the point of being friends with a poor loser like Ron if I didn't even get to shag his hot sister out of it!" he had shouted bitterly, clearly not caring if anyone else in the house overheard. "Do you know how long I waited for Ginny to let me fuck her? Months, man! And the one goddamn night she actually sneaks into my bed, naked, ready to spread her legs and finally give it up, I couldn't even get my dick hard. Can you imagine anything more humiliating than that shit? And then Ginny tells me I'm useless and dumps me right after. Fuck her!"
Lily had quickly left after hearing that, feeling ashamed at overhearing such intimate, angry details from her son's failed sex life. But she understood his frustration completely. James Junior was young and proud, and being cursed with impotence had to be humiliating beyond belief, especially at his age of 19.
Standing alone now in the empty kitchen, Lily sighed deeply, staring out the window without really seeing anything. Where had it all gone so wrong? But even as she asked herself the question, Lily knew deep down she already had the answer. Everything had started going to shit the day she willingly agreed with James to abandon their own daughter eighteen years ago. She had tried convincing herself for years that she'd done the right thing, that abandoning the child was necessary, even justified.
All because of that damn prophecy Dumbledore had told them…
But Lily knew the truth now. Their family had always been broken, ever since that day. It had been damaged right from the start. It had just taken this curse, this humiliating sexual dysfunction that affected both her husband and son, to finally open Lily's eyes and force her to face reality. They were cursed in more ways than one—and it had taken nearly two decades for Lily to finally realize it.
Her mind drifted back to the tense, uncomfortable conversation she'd endured with her husband James the night before.
James had sat slumped on the couch, his face tight and angry, nursing yet another glass of firewhiskey. His words had been blunt, harsh, and brutally honest. He'd been drinking more lately, frustrated by his inability to perform sexually since they'd both been struck with that damn impotence curse. Lily had hesitated to even broach the subject, knowing James' pride was already fragile enough. But eventually, the inevitable topic of heirs had come up—and James had finally snapped.
"You realize we're utterly fucked, don't you, Lily?" he'd snarled, turning sharply to face her with his eyes dark and bitter. "Unless some miracle healer suddenly fixes my dick, and our useless son's dick too, the Potter family bloodline dies with us. After all we've been through to uphold the family name, it's going to fucking end because neither of us can get it up."
Lily had winced at his words, her cheeks flushed hotly at the humiliating reality of their situation. But as uncomfortable as the conversation had been, James was right. She'd quietly murmured back, barely above a whisper, "James… what if there isn't a cure for this curse? What if there's no healer in the world who can undo it? Have you thought about what that means?"
James had laughed darkly, throwing back the rest of his drink and pouring another immediately afterward. "Of course I've fucking thought about it, Lily. It means we're done. It means no more Potters after us." He'd sneered bitterly, shaking his head. "Unless, of course, you have another brilliant solution you're keeping from me."
She'd swallowed nervously, trying to work up the courage to voice the idea that had been haunting her thoughts for weeks. Finally, she'd taken a deep breath and said quietly, "James… there is one other person with Potter blood. Someone who might be able to keep our family line alive."
James had stared blankly at her for a moment, before comprehension and anger flooded his face. "Heather?" he'd spat the name out like a curse, his voice dripping with disgust. "You're seriously suggesting we crawl back to that worthless squib who is destined to damn our family? Fuck, Lily—I'd sooner watch the Potter name die out completely than rely on her."
Lily had known he'd react badly. But she'd still felt compelled to try reasoning with him. "James, please, think about it logically," she'd pleaded softly. "Heather is our blood. She might be unaffected by the curse, because she's a squib. She could still bear children. If she has a child—a magical child—that child would carry on our family legacy."
James had scoffed loudly, shaking his head as he took another long pull from his drink. But after a tense silence, he'd narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. The tone in his voice had shifted, becoming colder and calculating. "Fine, Lily. Let's say I entertain this idea for a moment. So, what? We just beg Heather to have children for us? That pathetic little squib we abandoned like trash?" Lily had flinched again at his cruelty, but before she'd answered, James had continued, leaning forward slightly and lowering his voice into something darkly amused and mocking. "Though, I suppose even a pathetic girl like Heather could at least spread her legs for the good of the family. She doesn't have to be magical to pop out a useful heir or two, does she?"
Lily had remained quiet, knowing how pointless it would be to argue against his crassness.
"Come to think of it," he'd mused aloud, tapping his fingers against the side of his glass thoughtfully, "if she's managed to hold onto her virginity all these years, we might as well make some profit from it. Squib or not, the Potter bloodline should be worth a pretty penny to the right buyer. Selling Heather's virginity to the highest bidder could at least put some gold in our vault. Something good might actually come from her useless existence."
Lily had simply stared at her husband, appalled and speechless for a moment. She'd wanted to argue against it, but the sickening truth was that part of her—the pragmatic, desperate part—recognized that he might be right. They had been hurting for money for a while now after James had lent so much to Dumbledore and the order. They didn't regret it, but the James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, books weren't making their family as much royalties after all these years.
Now, standing alone in the kitchen, Lily forced herself out of her thoughts and looked back down at the carefully written letter. The words she'd penned on the parchment were gentle, deeply apologetic, and she hoped they came off as sincere.
She'd spent hours crafting every sentence, carefully expressing regret for abandoning Heather all those years ago. The letter begged Heather to return home and allow them the chance to make amends—to start fresh and reconnect as a family. Of course, Lily left out the other plans she and James had for their daughter.
As much as she wished things were different, Heather was their only option left.
With a quiet sigh, Lily straightened her back and called out clearly, "Flipsy?"
A small pop echoed in the silent kitchen, and their house elf Flipsy appeared instantly before her. The elf looked up at Lily, bowing her head respectfully. "Yes, Mistress Lily? How may Flipsy serve?"
Lily held out the sealed letter with steady fingers. "I need you to deliver this letter directly into the hands of Heather Potter. Can you do that, Flipsy?"
The house elf's eyes widened slightly in surprise, clearly startled at hearing the long-forgotten name of the Potter daughter. But she quickly bowed again, accepting the letter without question. "Of course, Mistress Lily. Flipsy will deliver it immediately!"
"Good, very good…" Lily said. Lily then watched impatiently as her house elf, Flipsy, stood frozen in place. The little elf's huge eyes widened dramatically as if something were seriously wrong.
Flipsy stared down at the letter in his tiny hands, visibly trembling with distress.
"What is it now, Flipsy?" Lily snapped irritably, feeling her frustration quickly rising. She had enough problems on her plate without needing to deal with the elf having another panic attack. "I gave you very simple instructions. Just go deliver that letter directly into my daughter's hands—how difficult can that possibly be?"
The elf's long ears drooped miserably as he looked up at Lily, clearly anxious. "Mistress Lily, Flipsy is terribly sorry, but Flipsy cannot find Heather Potter anywhere!" he blurted out nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot in agitation.
A sharp bolt of panic jolted through Lily's chest. "What are you talking about, Flipsy? Are you saying you can't sense my daughter at all?" Her voice tightened with sudden fear. "Has something happened to Heather?"
The elf quickly shook his head, looking even more distressed at Lily's panicked reaction. "Oh no, Mistress Lily! Flipsy does sense your daughter—as she is connected to you's! Flipsy just cannot locate anyone by the name of Heather Potter, specifically!" The elf twisted his thin hands nervously, eyes darting anxiously around the kitchen.
Lily immediately released a heavy sigh of relief, the intense pressure easing from her chest. For a horrible moment, she'd thought something truly terrible had happened—that Heather might be dead. Realizing it was simply a misunderstanding instantly calmed her nerves. She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled deeply to compose herself again.
"You silly elf," Lily said sharply, annoyance replacing her earlier fear. "If you sense my daughter's magical presence clearly, then obviously you can sense Heather Potter. You're probably just having trouble sensing her properly because she's a squib!"
The elf quickly nodded, relief evident on his tiny face. "Yes, Mistress Lily! Flipsy understands perfectly now. Flipsy apologizes deeply for confusing Mistress!" He gave her a quick, eager bow, clutching the letter protectively in both hands.
"Good," Lily replied firmly, her tone cold and commanding. "Now hurry up, Flipsy. Do not delay any longer. It's crucial that my daughter receives that letter immediately. And make absolutely certain you place it directly into her hands yourself—no mistakes."
XXX