Covens Novels & Stories

” "We don't operate in your legal framework." "Every coven does if they want recognition in the continental alliance," Carina said. "That's the accord your grandmother signed. The Slade coven's formal recognition was accepted fourteen years ago under the continental practitioner framework." She paused. "You are subject to the same governance framework everyone else in this alliance is subject to. That recording is evidence of violations under three separate provisions." Mason looked at Madi. "She's stalling." "Obviously," Madi said. She turned back to me.

He stopped two feet from the circle's edge and crouched and looked at the runes the way I had watched him look at the scroll — not urgency, complete attention, the kind that meant he was reading something faster than it appeared. "Soren." Brecken's voice had the edge in it. "What is this." Soren didn't answer immediately. He moved along the edge, staying low, following one particular symbol with his eyes until it connected to the next. "I've studied these," he said. Almost to himself. "I've seen drawings of these." He stood up. His face had done something I hadn't seen it do before — gone pale. "These belong to the First Coven." "What does that mean," Cade said.

"Constance thinks so. She's been researching the symbols non-stop since the first one. Says they match an old coven — the Ravenmoor coven, if the name means anything to you, which it probably doesn't, because it meant nothing to me either." "What do they want?" "Unclear. Constance's working theory is they're testing boundaries, gathering information before making a more direct move. Which is either reassuring or terrifying, depending on how you look at it." "I'm going with terrifying." "Solid instinct." Voss cleared his throat pointedly, still holding the burgundy gown aloft like a battle standard. "Not to interrupt whatever ominous conversation this has become, but we have three days and a

SAM faces his fear, and it is almost an hour since he is donating blood. “All done,” the volunteer said to him and carrying the Styrofoam basket with him up to the hospital. He goes to the laboratory to make test it for cross-matching. He pays his last cash, and he feels awful about it. Sam recalled that his diamonds could be converted to cash—he rushes to dial the CEO Cameron. “H-Hello Sir?” “Yes? I have a virtual meeting today—“

The negotiations continued unabated, a meticulous and deliberate process of ensuring that every detail, every nuance, and every eventuality was thoroughly discussed and understood by all parties involved. The Coven Priests listened intently, their faces set in determined expressions, as they committed every word, every phrase, and every stipulation to memory. The air was thick with the weight of responsibility, as we all knew that the success of our Covens depended on the precise execution of our plans.

Another one bent his head low and answered, “The archon is back at the Round Hall and has requested your presence. The Coven is there too.” “Damn it” Dominic cursed under his breath. The Coven was the governing body in the werewolf world that seldom showed interest in what went in the various were territories throughout the world. The presence of a Coven member meant that there was something really serious going on. All of them changed back into their wolf forms and rushed back to the Round Hall. The bodies of the hycwens were littered around the Hall and Dominic quickly ordered his pack members to take the assistance of a few others and dispose of them.

But High Councilor Oran held out his hand, hushing the room. “Today we are starting the last article of business we have for this meeting. I know many of us have feelings in regards to the coven in which we are speaking to today. I ask for everyone to keep their comments and personal opinions to themselves. This is the first time in over 300 years they have agreed to come before us and see if we can work out a mutually beneficial arrangement between us.”

Me and the vamp had only met once, well before this situation, and that was the day the war really began. See, my father and every other elder in my pack believe that the war started whenever vamps and werewolves were made; that we were just naturally opposed being that we are opposites. The vamps are slaves to the sun and us wolves are slaves to the moon. Anyways younger and more intelligent souls, like me, believe that we lived in a sort of mutual hatred before the situation of the vampire queen.

“It’s striped. Green. White. Gold.” “Green, white, gold,” Teyana repeats, thinking if these colors could mean something. “Green, white, gold. Like a forest green?” I looked over at her. Her tone was letting on that she may be familiar with this pattern. “Yes, exactly.” Her eyes widened. “Covens have themed colors. Rosewood is Violet and Black. The Windsor Coven is Green, White and Gold.” Interesting. “I think it's time you let Will in on this.” I sighed.

Follow me. Andrew followed as she dragged him towards the dungeon. What's wrong? He asked. He could feel her hesitancy from the pack bond. Like how we belong to Packs, most witches belong to covens. A coven consists of a group of witches in an area alongside their families. They're not as big as packs and are mostly 13 to 50 in number. A clan is the combination of all Covens in a state. Laura informed him. Andrew gasped,