Elven Witch Novels & Stories

Only a great witch or wizard could get it right, and finding a witch or wizard these days is quite difficult as well. She mentioned Elaine as the name of the witch that gave her the potions. If I’m not mistaken, I think she is referring to the great white witch, Elaine Mondrian. She is from a long line of wishes and to the best of my knowledge, they have never used their powers to harm anyone. She is one of the pitches I sought out in the forest close to the king's courtyard, but I couldn’t find anyone of them there. Instead, I met with an impostor who made me poison my own people. But why is she helping these clowns to hurt the chosen one, why did they even leave their last location, have e

“Well, lass, what is a Maclaren doing on Balfour land? Do you not know of the feud between us?” She looked down, not saying anything. He spoke in thick Gaelic, or perhaps even Dragonish. She couldn’t be certain, but her power allowed her to understand what he was saying even if she didn’t know what language he spoke. It was one of the few benefits of being a witch that was innate in nearly every magical being she had ever met. They knew how to speak languages they had never heard, likely able to read the intent behind the communication more than the words themselves. “Perhaps she is daft,” said the warrior standing on the right side of the one with the bright green eyes.

“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.

And Violet—Violet stood to Kael’s left, her hands alive with threads of silver light. Across from us, Eloria’s smile thinned. She spread her fingers as though coaxing the night itself to listen. The wolves at her feet bristled, their ears pressed flat, but none dared move without her word. “Three wolves. Two witches. An Alpha. An outcast. A traitor child,” Eloria said softly, her gaze flicking over each of us before landing on me. “And at the center—our little Crimson flame.” My throat tightened. I couldn’t speak.

But her gaze kept wavering, going towards us as she worried about our well-being. “Focus, Evelina!” I whispered to myself, willing her to harness her strength. She did just that, drawing in a deep breath. She glowed with an inner light, and I could see something brewing within her. With a sweeping motion, she summoned the clouds above, dark and heavy with impending rain. In that moment, she was a goddess of the storm, and the air was alive with the potential of her fury. The witches regrouped, their dark magic swirling around them, but Evelina was undeterred.

One of the reasons my gammas are constantly inside the borders. Thirty six witches (male and female), divided in five covens, Arkana being the strongest of them with twelve members, and Black Jade being the newest with only three members. I see it as just kids rebelling against their witchy parents. Thinking they know best, i guess. There are some rivalries amongst them, but nothing serious. I believe most of them are basically fortune tellers or charlatans. Still, i always keep tabs. Better safe than sorry.

"Care to fill us in, you two? Killian whined like he was left out of an inside joke. "When Maddox marks Ellen, she will not only become the most powerful white which than ever lived, it will be next to impossible to kill her, since she will be a wolf/witch hybrid. She will have incredible speed and strength as well as rapid healing. Meaning her spells won't wear her out like a normal witch, she will be able to do, longer harder spells, spells that would normally take a whole coven." Lucy explained. "Holy shit is right! Does Ellen even know this?" Axel asked.

When you start using magic for ill intentions you can become a dark witch or wizard and it’s very hard to turn back. Elder Wynn goes on about our roots in the magical world and how our town was founded by his father’s father’s father’s father back in the late 1600s when witches were hunted and burned at the stake. We made an alliance with the werewolves to live peacefully without persecution from the human world. The problem is we haven’t changed anything since then it’s as if the entire council is still living in the 17th century.

The knotweed witches—my own kin now, in a way—stand nearby, tense but curious. The lead witch, tall and reed-thin, bows stiffly. “I am Elowen, messenger for the southern cabal. We bring word from the Green Crossings and the hollow woods beyond.” Her eyes, hawk-bright, fix on me for a breath longer than comfort allows. Rowan’s posture is all wariness. “Speak.” Elowen glances back at her companions. One steps forward, her voice low and urgent: