Black Witch Series Novels & Stories

“Name yourself.” The woman smiles, amused. “I am Maris Blackriver.” Gasps. Maya chokes. Even Lydia flinches. Because Maris Blackriver isn’t just a rogue. She’s legend. A shaman-wolf, from a line thought wiped out. Witch of the wild. Hunter of corrupted alphas. She survived without a pack—unheard of, impossible, terrifying. And she’s standing here. For me. Her gaze pins me—direct, burning, knowing.

That wretched scream, and laughter, soft feminine, terrible voice. A woman emerged from the haze. Her dress flickered like shadow and flame. Her hair fell in a thick and tangled way around her shoulders, strands silver as black as nightmares. Zaira Blackthorn. I did not know how I knew her name, but I knew. The same way, I knew that she was a witch. "Such chaos," she whispered, voice like smoke and poison. "So much effort to protect something you were destined to lose." Behind her floated symbols drawn in blood, pulsing with sickly green light. I tried to run forward, to throw myself at her, to stop her, but my body would not move. My feet were rooted. My throat locked.

The venom of the basilisk was eating through me as I attempted to move, but I refused to let it stop me from reaching my pack. Everything was in disarray when I got there. Werewolves were on the attack. When a ferocious-looking wolf charged at me, I effortlessly chopped off its head. Thick dark blood gushed from its mutilated corpse as it fell to the ground. Rafael’s pack, the Blackblood pack, was the source of these invaders. Rafael, who was working with Delilah, was the one attacking us. To find out if any witches had survived, I had to first make my way to their quarters.Even though I could feel the snake venom burning me from the inside out like deadly acid, I continued to run as quickly

Siri 'continues as the greetings stop. 'We know this enemy'. A group of witches appears. 'We have helped our English sisters look in The witch's hammer for the trail of the dark enemy'. I do not understand why, but I know instinctively that this group is the Scandinavian witches. 'Who is the dark one ? Our job is to take care of those wolves. We have not received any alerts about a new enemy'. A witch in a colorful dress, from the West African coven, becomes visible. Although the dark woman speaks her own language, I still understand what she is saying. The astral plane we are all on had to have that effect.

Alpha Sebastian "Why is the newcomer talking to the witches?", i turn to my Beta, Thomas, as my eyes find her easily inside the big crowd. It's like my vision searches for her silhouette by default. Her brown hair flows freely on her shoulders as she bounces at the nearest candy stand, followed by her son Hektor and three more boys, i only assume are her sons too. She is talking vividly with Ethel, Rachel and Rosalind, three of the five witches from the Blue Moon Clan. Even amongst all that noise, i can hear her distinctive laughter. My chest is getting tight again, my head is lightly throbbing and my breath is growing heavy. What is wrong with me? What is this power this woman has on me and

Usban, Prince Dulhen, and their entire family welcomed the return of these powerful black vampire clans. Suddenly, Twari and Owwa collapsed to the ground in shock, unable to believe they had returned to life. Everyone bowed before the last Supreme who ruled before their downfall—Supreme Atcandis. "The return of the blacks! Long live the black vampires!" Twari shouted, echoed by the newly resurrected vampires brought back by Usban. Usban grinned, knowing the whites’ days of triumph were numbered. Soon, they would feel the wrath of the black vampires—the same ones they slaughtered and robbed of their wealth three centuries ago.

Humans might not possess magic, but they don’t carry a curse either. What is Princess Avalea doing here? Most Venusian Witches wouldn’t even be caught dead in this hut. At that, my heart skips several beats. What if she is dead? My hands and feet go cold as I inch forward until I’m touching the edge of the pallet. I bend over close to her face to check if she’s breathing. And that’s when she turns around and opens her eyes. Her eyes, the color of spun gold, are wide and filled with terror. Her mouth opens into a silent scream as she scoots away from me until her back hits the wall.

I then suggested they turn on her. Lena smiled, “Hey, mom! Look at this!” I looked at the monitor and fifty rogues were facing the dark witch and growling at her with their teeth bared. The witch told Winnie, “Call the dogs off.” Winnie shrugged, “It’s not me.” Isaac chuckled, “State your business quickly and leave.” The witch stated, “We know you have the black wolf with the red eyes. We will not rest until we have her.” Winnie responded, “This pack will remain enchanted against dark magic until your coven is discovered and destroyed. The paranormal species doesn’t need you trying to eliminate us.”

I snapped, raising a trembling hand. My eyes darted from one girl to the other, scanning, searching. Their chests did not rise. Their pulses were faint, unnaturally rapid and shallow. I swallowed hard, then forced myself to turn to the witch’s corpse. Bahar. Bengü. Whatever name she wore, she was nothing more than a vessel now. Her body sprawled in the dirt, blood blooming across her chest, but the residue of her foul sorcery still lingered. “Disgusting woman,” I muttered, spitting into the dirt. Then I turned to the others. “Bring her closer. Into the moonlight.”

Even when I had totally masked my own. A trigger had been needed to awoke her and bring her to the surface. Sensing her mate's proximity to death at the hands of Addanc, she had reacted and finally pushed forward. I had so many questions about her. I was born a witch, my mother and father didn't have any werewolf genes whatsoever, so how had I phased? I had been raking my saturated mind for any feasible answer but nothing came up. News had travelled first across the packs, it was inconceivable for a witch having a wolf. As her whines filled my mind and her being called for her mate, my eyes brimmed with tears.