Bewitched Moon Novels & Stories

Looking around the room I noted the high ceiling and shot my last orb towards the ceiling hoping that it would make a big enough opening that the moon beams would slip in. Thankfully it hit just right as the ceiling began to fall in the great hall as light from the moon beamed in through it. Moving quickly towards the beam of moon light I looked up at it and siphoned every bit I could as I watched the Moon Witch stir more as the mist creature fed her life.

I said, laughing disdainfully, “I will take revenge on you, tear you to pieces!” Rowan grinned, saying mockingly, “I look forward to your return, your majesty!” As soon as his words fell off his mouth, his arm swiftly and accurately pierced my chest, precisely digging out my heart. Blooms of blood appeared on the bed sheet, like some kind of cruel artwork. “Moon Goddess, please give me a chance to be reborn!” I silently pleaded, just before my heart was harvested. At this moment, the dazzling full moon suddenly emitted a blinding white light.

A different Amara. Not a slave. A child born beneath a blood moon. Swaddled in velvet, surrounded by chanting witches and one man—Viktor. He wasn’t cruel then. He was desperate. “Take them both,” he cried. “Save one. Use the other.” And from the smoke rose two infants—one screaming, one silent. Lilith was claimed. I was discarded. Hidden in a cradle far from the altar. “She’s too weak,” a voice said. “She cannot hold the power.”

I said "I know it may seem like a lot, but the Moon Goddess chose you to be with them for a reason. I think you are overthinking everything," Christy said "Who is the Moon Goddess?" I asked "The Moon Goddess is the creature of werewolves. She is the one that chooses who will be Mates," Christy said "So she is the one that gave me three Mates," I asked "Yes, and she is never wrong," Christy said "I don't know about that. She might be wrong this time," I said

She understood what I meant to a certain point. “Do you mean like…if you could see your loved ones again ?” I nodded. “Even if it was just for a moment. I just want to see her again. What if she was reincarnated into someone else?” “Are you trying to say you feel like she has become someone else?” Tess asked and I nodded slowly. I adjusted the collar of my black chiffon coat and scratched the back of my neck. The blood moon is a night when wolves turn into their wolf forms and the wolves get a free will to be stronger that day. It was said that some wolves are lucky enough to meet the moon goddess herself and I am keen on finding the moon goddess.

Witches are also affected by the said event but not in the blood lust way but in a sexual one. The following days of the Blood Moon are the signal of the witches' Blessed Ovulation where they will surely produce powerful offsprings possessing nearly perfect magical circuits. It is the time when Hecate, the goddess of magic would generously endow her followers and worshipers with prosperity. Witches would usually procreate with warlocks, wizards, spirits, or anything that they can summon, making Ruby somehow glad that Aleister wasn't present or else they could have done somethings that she will later regret.

"Hi, I'm looking for the Moon Witch. I need to confirm the Silver Moon pack's blessing ceremony." The contact replied, "Her Eminence the Moon Witch is currently meditating. But I can confirm the ceremony is prepped and will happen on schedule tomorrow." The living room fell dead silent.

His wolf was clawing at the surface, trying to tear its way out of his skin. He looked ready to rip my throat out, but the moment my scent hit him, the scent of his mate, he froze. The feral growl died in his throat, replaced by a pained whimper. I didn't waste a second. I channeled every drop of spiritual energy I had, my fingertips glowing with a soft, milky white light. I pressed my palm firmly against his burning chest, right over his frantic heart. "By the Frost of the Moon, Let the Silver Be Strewn," I murmured an ancient spell, sending the cooling waves of healing power into him. "I'm here. Let it go, Lucian."

I release the death grip with an effort, flexing my fingers as if to prove I am flesh and not another ghost in this place. "Tell me what you need," I say. Her lips work silently for a moment before any sound emerges. "Nothing. It is done. We bless the dead, we wait for the bones to finish burning. The rest is gone." She reaches into her apron and produces a sprig of something green. Not a flower—nothing blooms here—but a weed, tough and grayish. She hands it to me, and I take it because to refuse would be to break her entirely. "For luck," she says. "Or memory."

he said, his voice cold, "you are hereby no longer considered as a member of the Silverfox pack. All ties are severed. You are now a fugitive, an outcast." The pack erupted in a frenzy of condemnation. "Silence!" Serbian's voice cracked like thunder. A hush fell over the crowd. "On the rules guiding this pack, which include having an external affair with the Ironhearts, our sworn enemies. Caroline Moonbolt will face banishment. You have three minutes," he continued, a cruel grin spreading across his face, "to run. Run for your life, before the moon is fully upon us." I scrambled to my father's side. He was bruised and weak, barely conscious.