Divination Witch Novels & Stories

"You certainly haven't seen the witch who split her soul into seven just because she wanted revenge on her werewolf mate. Her magic is one of the five forbidden magics in the Idris covenant." "What? Dividing the soul into seven?"

The divine witch, an elderly woman with an air of mystery, stood at the center, ready to perform the ritual. The maidens lined up, their faces a mix of excitement and nervousness. The divine witch began her incantations, her voice rising and falling with a rhythm that seemed to resonate with the very ground they stood on. She moved slowly, her hands glowing with an ethereal light as she passed by each maiden. Finally, she stopped in front of a young woman named Isabella. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes. The witch placed her hands on Isabella’s shoulders, and a bright light enveloped them both.

I came from a family of witches. When we came of age, every woman in our line awakened a gift. I could siphon my husband's luck through marriage. The rule was simple. After we married, each time he betrayed me, the universe paid compensation. A portion of his fortune slipped away from him and into my hands. Outside the window, bright fireworks filled the sky. They burst and stitched themselves into a name. Kimberly Swan was his mistress. When I did not explode the way people expected, Jasper Prescott grew even more entitled.

She felt only the fire. Inside her, the "Witch" was no longer a dormant spark or a gentle guiding hand; it was a white-hot, unchecked inferno. Her hair, a cascade of deep violet, whipped around her face in the gale, the brilliant silver streaks within the strands glowing with a celestial, lunar light. Her eyes were no longer the soft violet of a woman; they were glowing orbs of incandescent silver, the mark of a High Priestess Witch fully awakened. It clawed at the lining of her ribs, its hunger fueled by a primal, maternal desperation that threatened to consume her sanity.

That's right. I bought this top-tier, brawny werewolf to scrub my cauldron and do my chores. The inspiration came from a fellow witch I met at the wizarding market. She was bragging about her new half-orc slave, claiming he could lick the floors so clean you could see your reflection in them and even served as her personal foot warmer in the winter. While the other witches burst out laughing and treated it as a joke, I was the only one who zeroed in on two key words: labor and warmth.

They are fiercely independent and rarely stay grounded, literally or politically. Mireholt (MY-er-holt) – Swamp witches and blood mages who draw power from decay, rot, and ancestral bones. Their spellcraft is primal and raw, passed down through generations steeped in earth and sacrifice. Foxglove (FOX-gluv) – Masters of venom, temptation, and misdirection. Foxglove witches are spies, poisoners, and political fixers. Their magic is beautiful, seductive, and always has a catch. Thornveil (THORN-vayl) – Defensive spellcrafters and rune-wielders who specialize in hex barriers, sigil locks, and protection circles. When a Thornveil shields you, nothing gets through, unless they want it to.

I wondered if he knew what type of witch I was. All witches could do spells and various divination techniques. We also all had varying psychic abilities, ‘witch senses’ I called them. Beyond that each witch could perform a type of elemental magic: earth, fire, water, air, and shadows. The elemental power wasn’t inherited, it was the stars and the moon that determined what type of elemental magic a witch would have. How powerful a witch was depended entirely on their strength of will.

"Now you're getting it... Lasses Birgitta is their High Priestess. She performs the great rite, either by having intercourse with the High Priest or performing the rituals. The knife and the bottle that you witnessed. She uses her sexual prowess and lust to seduce men away from the one true God and into paganism. She controls them, uses them, can make them do as she pleases. Without her, their coven has no power... The weaker the person, the further from God they are, the easier the conquest." "The gangbangers," I said beginning to make sense of this. I was still confused about Caspers wife. Why wasn't she the high priestess? He just smiled and shook his head. "No, no, no," he said. "You're

In the middle was herb garden, small glowing orbs floated around it as blue butterflies fluttered about happily. Gerwulf placed me at one of the tables and instructed me to remove my shirt. I carefully pulled my warm sweater off and awkwardly dangled my legs from the side. "A true witch is hard to kill. Hylda thought cutting her throat would do the trick, but nope," Gerwulf turned towards me with a small glass pot in his hand. He opened it and rubbed the salve onto the bite marks. "How do you kill a witch then?" "It's much more gruesome than that. You have to pierce the heart, separate the head, and burn the body. Otherwise they'll just heal. How fast depends on how much damage they take."

Her childish mind could only think that she shouldn't attract any eyes of the audience and look down from the grinning faces of the nobles. Even if Ariana couldn't view their faces, she could sense what kind of emotion and desire running through their eyes. Lust, greed, selfish, and disgust. Some chattered about the use of a child slave and the fact that they could raise her to their taste. A few sorcerers also eyed themself on the girl, whispering how the girl would be a fitting sacrifice for a demonic ritual. "We will start the bid, from 50 gold coins!" The auctioneer slammed his hand on the tall wooden table that stopped on his waist. He glanced around hawking the bidders who had their in