Dark Witch Nora Roberts Novels & Stories

she said with a smirk. “ I won't okay jeez, I don't need your sentiment right now,” I muttered. “ I'm serious this time Kiara, as much as I do want to see you dead, I definitely don't want you dying by the hands of a Dark wood okay, be careful of the lady named Nora, she is not to be played with okay,” she said in a serious tone. “ And what exactly do you know about Nora Darkwood Diane?” I asked. “Nothing you need to know, just be cautious, as much as you are strong, that lady is far stronger and much more dangerous,” she responded.

A loud and ear-breaking scream echoed through the cave as the dark witch burst in pure anger. Her face was so red she could pass as a ripe tomato. “Damn that bastard! I should have known that he was going to betray me and our deal!” Her face was now clean, and that was because of the recent ritual that she had. Thanks to the lovely people who offered their lives for the fulfillment to her plans. Everything should have been planned out well, if not for the traitor Robert Kingston, the leader of the werewolf hunters who were best known for their cruelty.

How she ended up in this remote place, and if she was also supernatural. “You didn't tell me your name. I'm Robbert Dragnon, beta werewolf of the NightHowl pack and soon-to-be alpha. Well, not anymore now that I'm here,” Robert asked with a short laugh, turning to her. She stared into his eyes for a moment, then said softly, “My name is Edith, and I'm the Immortal of Death and Darkness.”

They pressed forward, their hearts pounding with adrenaline and anticipation. As they neared Rita's inner sanctum, the witch appeared before them, a vision of twisted beauty. Her jet-black hair cascaded over her pale skin, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly glow. With a flick of her wrist, Rita summoned a torrent of dark magic, intent on obliterating the hunters who dared to challenge her. Amelia and Edna fought valiantly, their blades clashing against the dark magic that surrounded Rita. The battle raged on, each side employing their most powerful skills and spells.

Kael… Kael was letting it happen. The silver-braided woman spoke again: “Step into the pit, rogue-born. If the shadows do not consume you, the Council may listen.” Nora smirked despite the chill racing down her spine. “Guess I always wanted to know what hell looks like.” Then she jumped. The shadows hit like ice water, swallowing her whole. Shapes lunged from every angle—wolves with too many teeth, twisted forms of people she once knew. Her mother’s face appeared, lips curled in accusation. Roman’s form twisted, eyes hollow, blood on his hands.

The dark omega did not acknowledge us until we were ten feet away. Then she turned. She was middle-aged, maybe forty. Her hands were covered in dirt and rock dust. Her eyes glowed faintly green. "You are Lila Crescent," she said calmly. "The omega who started the rights movement." "Yes. Who are you?" "My name is Nora Earthwright. And I am correcting your mistake." "My mistake?" "Trying to integrate omegas into pack society. Trying to make wolves accept us." Nora gestured to the corrupted land. "It will never work. Alphas and Betas will always see us as lesser. The solution is not integration—it is separation."

And so I did like an obedient slave. “It’s stated there are two kinds of witches. An ordinary and dark one. Ordinary witches usually only know how to use magic for healing, for a shield, and to grow something. They don’t have the power to inflict pain. The same can’t be said of the dark witches. They are powerful because they sold their s—soul….” My legs wobbled like a branch in the wind as Noah’s palm slid over my inner thigh. Lifting my eyes, I found his gaze was on me, observing my reaction closely. He flashed me a lopsided grin, then his fingers brushed my core, making me throb painfully.

“Once. And for all.” (Witch’s POV – Lena) The camp had gone quiet. Only the distant crunch of patrol boots over gravel broke the stillness. In my tent, the air was thick with sage smoke, curling in silver threads toward the low lantern glow. My sisters sat across from me, their faces pale in the flickering light. Nora spread a worn leather-bound book on the table between us, its spine cracked, pages edged with soot from gods-knew-how-many other battles. “This thing isn’t just feeding,” she whispered. “It’s tethered. Something or someone is anchoring it here.”

It pooled in the air, gathering mass, taking shape. Then she stepped through.The Dark Witch. She was tall, impossibly so, her frame wrapped in tattered robes that seemed woven from night itself. They moved without wind, flowing around her like water. Her skin was pale as bone, stretched tight over sharp features—high cheekbones, a pointed chin, lips stained black as if she had drunk ink. Her hair fell in long, curly waves, white streaked with gray, tangled with what looked like small bones and blackened twigs. But her eyes—they were the worst. Completely black. No iris, no white. Just an endless void that swallowed light.

Donovan and Daciana give us both confused looks and I start walking out of the door with him hot on my heels, I hear the rest follow out too. I have never seen it being done before, but I’ve heard about it. I can’t remember from where though, most witches avoid that because it is a form of dark magic that you can never predict or control. Only psychopaths like Dreaya will try that, and I know she would, if it would get her what she wanted. The one thing she keeps coming back, what I can never know as much as I try.