The Warlock's Emperor

By J.B. Black

Is love possible behind enemy lines?

As a warlock, Marcellus understood the risks of aligning himself to a minor court that stood against the rising Emperor Leofric, but he thought he could stop the man’s ruthless advance, keeping his childhood friend’s realm safe.

He never expected to be betrayed.

Traded by his liege lord to the emperor, he has no idea what to expect. Marcellus heard the stories. Leofric is a monster without remorse or mercy. A man as cold as ice — so why are his eyes so warm?

Leofric knew his soulmate’s name long before he knew the circumstances of his birth — long before he conquered his father’s kingdom and started an empire on the back of a promise to never let anyone suffer as his mother had. When his soulmate pledges his life to a sadistic brat, Leofric will do whatever it takes to keep him safe — even if it leaves a city under a tyrant’s command.

Can Leofric convince Marcellus of their destiny? Or will his mother’s final vision be for nothing?

The Warlock’s Emperor is a steamy m/m gay fantasy romance. Enemies to lovers with no cheating, royal courtship, and a guaranteed HEA sure to make your heart swoon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.B. Black
• Release date: Jan 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798215726372

J.B. Black

Three sides to take care of all your wanton desires:Jess adores the steamy side of romance, exploring the quick scenes that leave your heart fluttering as strong, fertile heroines find their Happily Ever Afters!If you enjoy mpreg and a wake on the more fantastical side with fated mates, JB Black will fulfill your every desire.Brendol enjoys M/M without the fantastical edge. No pregnancies, just gay sex and romance!

Book preview

The Warlock’s Emperor

M/M Gay Fantasy Romance

J.B. Black

Is love possible behind enemy lines?

As a warlock, Marcellus understood the risks of aligning himself to a minor court that stood against the rising Emperor Leofric, but he thought he could stop the man’s ruthless advance, keeping his childhood friend’s realm safe.

He never expected to be betrayed.

Traded by his liege lord to the emperor, he has no idea what to expect. Marcellus heard the stories. Leofric is a monster without remorse or mercy. A man as cold as ice — so why are his eyes so warm?

Leofric knew his soulmate’s name long before he knew the circumstances of his birth — long before he conquered his father’s kingdom and started an empire on the back of a promise to never let anyone suffer as his mother had. When his soulmate pledges his life to a sadistic brat, Leofric will do whatever it takes to keep him safe — even if it leaves a city under a tyrant’s command.

Can Leofric convince Marcellus of their destiny? Or will his mother’s final vision be for nothing?

The Warlock’s Emperor is a steamy m/m gay fantasy romance. Enemies to lovers with no cheating, royal courtship, and a guaranteed HEA sure to make your heart swoon.

The Warlock’s Emperor

by JB Black

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.

THE WARLOCK’S EMPEROR

Copyright © 2022 J.B. Black

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Chapter One

They told him it was for his benefit. His mother kissed his forehead, warned him to keep the truth secret before waving him off at his father’s side. He had known in that moment that he would never see them again. As a boy of ten, he fought back tears. Whispers at court meant nothing. He was the only son of a second son of a lord of no repute. Why would anyone care about him? So what if some grand king he had never met wanted all magic users to be forcibly removed? Leaving would be fine, wouldn’t it?

Marcellus hadn’t understood then that the removal wasn’t from the country. The nobility turned upon those with magic. Only death answered, and when the hunters came, Marcellus was still in his first year at the Bethane Boarding Academy. Word of his parents cavorting spread.

There is a man questioning the children of blood traitors, Calvus told him in the dead of night. They didn’t share a room, but Calvus snuck over in the dead of night. Your mother was a witch, wasn’t she?

Biting his lip, Marcellus didn’t answer. His mother told him to never acknowledge her, but how could he deny her. Small as he was for his age, he curled in upon himself, crying all the harder.

Calvus wrapped an arm around him. You don’t have magic. I’ll vouch for you.

They won’t care what you say. They’ll torture me, Marcellus whimpered, burying his face in his arms. It won’t matter if I have magic or not.

Clucking his tongue, his friend huffed, Of course it matters. I’m the heir to the Lord of Romcist — that damn King Aulus owes my father. Can you hide your magic? Marcellus tensed, but Calvus merely smacked his back. You don’t have to hide it from me. Not all of us agree with that idiot.

Marcellus hadn’t believe him. As a warlock, he could control his magic, but there were certain things outside his ability. Having never been tortured, he had no idea whether he could keep his powers from rising. Sleep eluded him. Every day, he feigned calm, aided by Calvus who always attracted attention for his charm and friendly demeanor — but who went out of his way to do so even more. Nobody looked at Marcellus. Not when Calvus was around. But that meant nothing when the hunters came.

Except Calvus marched right up to them, offering himself to be interviewed. He had no magic, so he had nothing to hide, but the wink he gave Marcellus told him everything he needed to know. When Calvus returned after three nights with burns on his sides and bruises covering his arms, Marcellus could only cry his thanks as Calvus refused to be healed.

They’ll know I lied, Calvus explained. No magic means no healing.

Weeping into his hands, the young warlock shook his head. I’m so sorry.

Calvus laughed. He was always laughing in those days. Wrapping an arm around him, the injured boy smiled, and for a second, Marcellus believed that everything could be right in the world. Marcellus swore a life debt. In those cold halls where few even noticed him, Calvus had risked his life, so how could Marcellus give him anything less.

Of course, Calvus waved a hand, dismissing life debts and the weight of what he had done. He was kind to so many. Everything he had ended up on offer to everybody else. His whole self existed in the flash of a sly smile across a silent classroom. A joke cracked at the perfect time. As well liked as he was, any of his peers would’ve offered whatever they could to be his friend, so what need did he have for a warlock?

Almost two decades later, Marcellus had little to his name. When they killed his mother and father, he was removed from his grandfather’s line of inheritance, so all he had was his education. Numbers and figures were easy. Flittering from one court to the next without ever settling for fear of being found out, Marcellus had only his wits and education — except, his education hadn’t included how to use his magic. Though his mother taught him as best she could before he was sent away, he could only ever learn in secret. Any further learning also happened in secret, but without his mother’s guidance, Marcellus feared he fell short. He might’ve been born a warlock, but only those without magic might consider him to have any magical talent.

His latest court enjoyed throwing balls. Every other night, there seemed to be another dance. When the Lord of Romcist was announced, everyone looked to the door, and Calvus entered. He wasn’t smiling. With his blond hair swept back and a brilliant blue ensemble, he attracted the attention of everyone in the keep.

When Calvus caught sight of Marcellus, he cheered, There you are! I heard you were working for this hedonistic ingrate, but I never believed the rumors to be true. What are you doing here?

Counting his noble coin, Marcellus drawled.

What a waste! You were one of the best students at that damn prison academy, yet you’re a glorified abacus, Calvus laughed, easily hitting the frustration which curled beneath Marcellus’s service.

Marcellus shrugged. "With my mother’s situation and the circumstances of my