Elena Witch Novels & Stories

He said. “I thought witches didn’t have mates as us wolves do.” I stated matter-of-factly. “Just because we don’t find our mates at eighteen like you do and have some miraculous bond snap into place doesn’t mean that we don’t have soul mates. Many witches are serial monogamists who mate for life just like werewolves. The goddess leads us to them in mysterious ways” he said. “So, are you trying to tell me that Sierra is my mate?” I asked him almost laughing in his face

“She confirmed what the Witch wants.” My jaw clenches. “The ritual.” “Yes.” She glances down briefly at her stomach. “The Witch needs three things.” “Let me guess,” I mutter darkly. “Elara.” “Kael.” “And the pup.” Elara nods slowly. “She needs the royal bloodline… and your cursed one.” My wolf snarls quietly. “She’ll never get them.” Elara gives me a small, tired smile. “That’s not the worst part.” My chest tightens.

She stood at the center of the street, her long blond hair whipping around her as sparks danced across her fingertips. Behind her stood dozens of palace Commanders and Warriors. Without waiting for orders, they charged into the battle. Several Warriors shifted into massive wolves mid-run, crashing into the Veil's front line with enough force to send bodies flying. The tide turned instantly. Elena smiled at me. "Sorry I'm late." The three witches staggered back to their feet. Elena turned toward them. The smile disappeared. She slowly lifted both hands. The air vibrated. Then she slammed them downward.

Elena With piercing dark brown eyes and striking jet-black hair, it was as though the universe had conspired to grace the triplets with this shared, hypnotic feature. Beyond their matching gaze and hair, each of them possessed a unique magnetism of their own. Magnetism mixed with cruelty—a deadly combination, I knew in my heart, was capable of killing me a thousand times more than they already had. As I served the members along with them, I couldn't help but sneak a few glances at them.

This particular spell could only be used by high priestesses and only a high priestess more powerful than the one that casted the spell could see her or undo it. Elder Lazarus was not a witch, he did not have our blood and he was a full-fledged wolf. I was sure of this so how was this possible?

“Virechant stands with the white coven, and with you, son.” And the cheers rise again, louder still, joyous and unrelenting, a celebration of a new beginning. I turn back to the white witches, Xelina’s grandmother among them, and offer my hand, more than a gesture, a promise. “Let them hear your voice.” She steps forward, her presence calm but commanding. “I am Elysia, leader of the white witches,” she begins, her voice clear and warm. “Grandmother to Xelina, princess of Virechant, mother of Nadjia, who was also a white witch. She fell in love with a shifter from Lunemar, Xelina’s father. I will lead the remainder of the coven who stood against the darkness.”

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mandalynn Hope Ellis, you may call me Hope. I am twenty-four years old, the half werewolf half witch spawn of Alpha Leith Ellis of the Blood Moon Rising pack and his mistress the Sorceress Lady Abigail Caluder of the Black Witch Mountain coven. When I was two years old, my father found his fated mate his now Luna, Luna Helena. My mother had bowed out gracefully, but they still remained close and acclaimble in raising me. I spent my childhood between my father's pack and my mother's coven.

It was a race against time as Andrea, Jax, and Rachel had to stop the coven before they could complete their ritual and unleash chaos upon the world. As they delved deeper into the coven's secrets, they encountered a young witch named Elena, who had been manipulated by the coven into assisting them. Elena had her own reasons for getting involved, as her family had been threatened by the witches. Recognizing her vulnerability and potential for redemption, Andrea, Jax, and Rachel offered her a chance to join forces and make amends.

It had always been there, buried beneath the weight of fear and despair, waiting for the moment to rise. She raised her hand, the light blazing with silver-blue fire. "I am Elena. I am the White Wolf. I am the Ancient Alpha. And I will not let you take my children. I will not let you destroy my family. I will not surrender." The light exploded outward, consuming the shadows. Elara screamed, her form flickering, her power draining as the light seared through her defenses. "This is not over!" she shrieked, her voice distorted with rage. "I will return! I will—"

“Hold on, okay? Hold on.” Not now, not now. Tears flowed from her eyes, she can't die just like that. Just when they knew the truth. Everybody went silent. They gathered around the priestess of Virsathen and the great elf witch. “There’s no need.” The witch held onto Inwë’s hand to stop her. “I have already finished the Creator’s task for me. I finally found you, the witch heiress and my niece. I know Estelel is happy, wherever she maybe. Her soul can now be freed from the Virsathen. I may now rest my soul.”