Devil Witch Novels & Stories

”Nice flowers.” Wendy commended as soon as Rebecca entered the room. Rebecca on the other hand didn’t pay attention to what was said. She was lost in a world of her own thought. She didn’t see the face of the biker, but from the sound of his voice, she could tell who it was. It was a voice she would recognize anytime, any day. The voice of the devil who haunts her in her dream. A pat on the shoulder brought her back to reality. She jerked and the flower slipped from her hands, but Wendy caught it before it could fall to the floor.

After a few seconds of eye-to-eye battle, he still maintained his silence, leaving Don Basco with no choice but to break the deafening silence between them. “Am I right? What do you think? (Am I, right? What do you think?)” Don Basco questioned; his lips painted with the image of the devil's grin. Without Don Basco's knowledge, the real devil was the young man in front of him—a devil who is hiding in human flesh with an innocent face, waiting for the right moment to attack his enemy and make them feel what hell is like.

he claimed. I looked straight into his eyes. They were filled with a kind of insane possessiveness, mixed with warmth. He truly looked like a devil that was craving for my soul, but this Devil was also willing to devote himself giving me tenderness and protection I was seeking through my whole life… I was ready to sign the pact, even with shedding all of my blood. “You can belong only to me,” he whispered and kissed my lips. At the same time his long fingers painted lines up and down my spine and back. I got lost in this sensation, the waves of electrifying excitement kept flowing through my entire body. Suddenly, he stopped, again, teasing me, making me want him more.

His words only made Nora run faster as she cried invisible tears. God! Why couldn’t she just stop getting herself into trouble with the devil? The end…

This was the real cost of the empire Sandro had built. This was the devil she had married. Yet beneath the revulsion, a twisted attraction stirred. The way he stood there, powerful and unyielding, blood on his hands because someone had dared threaten her… it unlocked a primal part of her she hated herself for acknowledging. Her body still hummed from their earlier encounters, and now this raw display of dominance only heightened the conflicting pull inside her. She was horrified. She was also, shamefully, drawn to the monster who would burn the world to keep her safe.

“She’s bluffing! Liam, don’t let her keep spinning these stories. She’s dangerous. You should break her hands and feet and exile her from the pack like the traitor she is—!” “Shut your mouth,” Natalie said. “You think I’m bluffing?” She turned to the crowd. “Everyone knows Devils have a dark aura. They carry a unique odor. It’s why they were able to identify that it was a Devil who took Ned. And that scent... doesn’t just vanish. Anyone who has close contact with a Devil—like embracing them, say—will be infected.” She walked slowly toward the table beside the guards, picking up a small clear bottle of water from her jacket.

There's a distinct way that the devil uses to call her child, each one's different from the other, sometimes she calls them by giving a secret message on a portion of restaurant food, or have a paper airplane fly over you, the most brutal was when she sent a voodoo doll with pins on its forehead and a picture of the person she wanted to summon. She's always creatively dangerous, and Misha tried to distance herself from her. As far as she knows, she handpicked those she wanted to be her children, and without any objection or what from her chosen, they'll become her children. As far as she knows, there are only four of them: Blanche, Astolfo, Justice, and Serpent. She hasn't met Justice and Se

I looked at her with deadly coldness before the words slipped from my lips simply. "The Devil of Black Magic… then." Her eyes widened in obvious shock, and she swallowed hard. "N-No… I cannot speak about him, please." "That Devil disappeared thousands of years ago… do you know why he has appeared now?" I questioned, ignoring her words. She shook her head quickly. "I know nothing about him except that he is the greatest enemy of witches. He is the doom of us all." I had heard about that Devil before, but I had never seen him. Everyone believed he was merely a legend… a terrifying story told to children, nothing more than fiction.

I interjected sharply before she could even finish what she was saying. "He is not who you think he is!" I lowered my voice so our conversation does not reach prying ears. "Mom, what I am about to tell you is very serious, please do not think that I am insane or suffering from hallucinations, I know what I saw. The Devil is not a man, he is not a human being, he is something else, he is not from this world, you have to get us out of this house, out of this god forsaken country, mom!" Mom did not appear to be the slightest bit shocked, after all the crazy things I said, she was indifferent. I didn't understand it.

I knew their names the way everyone knew them: whispered in fear, moaned in fantasies, printed in tabloids that called them immortal gods and ruthless monsters in the same breath. Vincenzo Drakvolk. The tallest. The leader. Amber eyes that burned slow like embers under ash, voice that could command armies or unravel panties with a single syllable. Lorenzo Drakvolk. Gold-eyed devil with a smirk that promised sin, hands that looked made for breaking things—or making them beg. Valentino Drakvolk. The quiet one. White hair like fresh snow on a grave, silver eyes that never blinked when they decided something belonged to them. The one they called the devil not because he was cruel, but because he