Bewitched Me Body And Soul Novels & Stories

I pulled her into me and we lost ourselves to each other. ***** It was the most beautiful morning of my life. I was so happy... I had already made the bookings and reservations for a one-month long honeymoon in Australia. I was very excited about this real honeymoon. I would not have believed it just 6 months back that very soon I would be bewitched by a very beautiful, simple, pure and innocent girl. Thank you, God, for that accident on that rainy night, I have been bewitched by an angel since then... The End

It crescendos, sucking my brains out. A gruesome cry leaves from between my lips and I drop to my knees panting. My vision goes blurry, the picture before me, nothing but a vivid haze of orange with a hue of black. “The soul” “Thy protector”, My breath hitches, the blur in my vision returning to normal, “ Thy protector - my soul belongs to the witches when this body perishes. My soul will be at the mercy of the witches forever, and they shall use it as they please.” In the next second my words collapse in the air, and the caw of the crows erupts, thousands of the very creatures rising in the air and dropping their way right to me.

The secretary hesitates, but in a matter of seconds of glaring at her, she’s forced to step away, leaving me alone. With a swift, practiced motion, I pull out the vial from my bag and uncork it, a scent of heady sweetness filling the air. The potion is made out of a forbidden masterpiece created by the werewolf-witch hybrids of ancient times, a union of desire and darkness that pulses with a life of its own. I tilt the vial over one of the coffee cups, a single drop falling like a drop of starlight into the dark abyss. "He will be mine," I whisper to myself, my voice screaming with determination and anticipation. "Body and soul."

“Exactly like your mother. She had power. Real power. She didn’t deserve it, and I wanted it. I wanted everything she had.” Her hands were trembling now, but her words came faster, spilled out like venom. “So I took it,” she chuckled maniacally. “I did the Alchemy of Souls. I took her body. I put my soul in it. She woke up in some stranger’s skin and died somewhere far away. I took her life, Imani. I took everything. Everything I knew fractured into sharp pieces. I tried to breathe. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped ropes around it.

She bared her teeth. The wagon hit a rut. My head thudded against the boards. Pain flared. Darkness crept in at the edges again. I fought it. My magic stirred, sluggish but awake. Rope cut into my wrists. Blood pricked. Hedge‑witch blood. Reborn soul. Curse glitch. I’d promised Lucian I wouldn’t offer myself. Promised myself I wouldn’t let him die for me. And here I was, being delivered like a package to the witch he’d vowed to fight.

My hair was less crazy and my grey eyes looked healthy and well-rested again. My body still aches from last night. When Lucien, or rather his wolf took me I felt my soul itself shifting, entwining with his. As Gitte begged to take over I became a moaning, quivering wanton wreck. I'd have crawled over broken glass for his cock last night. Like a strange fever dream, it almost seemed as though it hadn't happened at all. If someone told me it hadn't happened at all I could believe them it was so unbelievable.

His cruel gaze burned over me. "The preparations are complete. You belong to me now in every way that matters, little pet." His words sparked fresh defiance in me. I would sooner die than surrender my body and soul! But my curses went unheeded. River's hot mouth pressed to mine, forcing me to drink from the enchanted cup as the crone's incantations reached a fever pitch. The spiced wine seared like liquid fire in my veins, its sinister magic crashing over me, seeking to invade my spirit and corrupt it. I screamed soundlessly, writhing in agony on the blood-slicked altar.

When she remembered that she brought a number of Clyde’s pictures with her, she jerked up before getting them and pasting them on the cabinet. She also took a book out of her bag as well before embracing it against her chest. What her grandmother didn’t know was that she took the book that was all about love potions and bewitches with her. She had already read it before. She remembered that there were several ways on how someone can bewitch a person to like her. "You’re my last resort, my last chance,” she said, her eyes were tightly shut, as she continued hugging the book. She arranged her things in the cabinet. She didn’t bring a lot of things, though, as she thought that it wouldn’t do an

Alive. I barely understood it at the time, but something had led me, drawn me, across lands until I reached Paris. The dark and lonely house where I now lived pulsed with the energy of ancient spirits—witches, my ancestors, waiting, and watching. It was there that I learned who I truly was. This house, abandoned by the living but filled with whispers of the dead, became my haven, my place of rebirth. The witches’ spirits took me in, training me, and I embraced the power they awakened within me. I let myself be their vessel.

I really had to work on the whole masculinity thing. “We found your body,” I said. “We don’t know how to wake you.” The eyes rose above us on a twisted candy cane of limbs, swinging from side to side as though pondering. “They made me drink a blue fluid. It filled me with congealed darkness and ejected my spirit into this place. There must be a way to empty me again.” Then she swung back down, eyes fixed on me. “Or, if I can’t get back into my own body, maybe I can take yours.”