Evony Mysterious Witch Novels & Stories

EIGHT MONTHS LATER JEFF POV These past eight months have been grueling and the most challenging I’ve ever had to deal with. No vampire attacks had happened but for some reason wolves kept coming up missing. Not just from our pack either. It was happening to packs across the country. Rumors of some turning up weeks later, only to attack their own pack as a rabid. My Beta was searching high and low for a witch that would help us. The issue was no witch wanted to help. They all refused either out of fear of the Vampire King or the fear of using black magic and losing their powers all together. I sat at my desk as I contemplated what to do next. Suddenly my wolf Alec perked up and started runnin

And more importantly— What was she? She wasn’t wolf. Even in my weakened, cursed state, I would’ve sensed that. Human? Spirit? Something else? The answer came from her own lips. “…how did you manage to slip past the poisonous miasma outside and my enchantments…?” Enchantment. She was a witch. My mate was a mysterious witch living in the forbidden grounds of Mystic Forest. What an intriguing, yet suspicious person. And judging from the calm indifference in her eyes—despite the soft, gentle tone she spoke to me with—she was far from harmless.

They all focused their attention on me, as if judging me and asking me why I was here, I did not know why I felt that way. "She is Emily LeStrange the 13th witch and will lead this coven against our enemy werewolves," Viktoria announced that no one seemed to be surprised by that news by their dead reaction. "How can we be so sure that she can lead this coven if she not capable of powerful magic like us?" A question arose when a woman with thick lipstick with blonde hair asked. "We will train her all and work together so that she can release her strong power," Viktoria said.

She was going to let me do this. "I'm still working on the details," I said. "But I have some ideas. Somewhere remote. Somewhere protected. Somewhere no one would think to look." *** The witch lived in a cabin deep in the woods, about an hour's drive from Moonveil territory. Her name was Elena Vasquez, and she had a reputation for being both powerful and completely neutral in supernatural politics. She didn't take sides, didn't get involved in pack disputes or family feuds. She just did her job and took her payment.

Shadows twisted and writhed, manifesting into ethereal beings that lunged toward us, their eyes gleaming with malice. In the midst of the chaos, a figure emerged—a figure that possessed an uncanny resemblance to Isabella, but with a chilling aura of darkness that set her apart. She revealed herself to be Morgana, an ancient witch who had vowed to protect the secrets of the tapestry at any cost. "You thought you could uncover the truth and escape unscathed?" Morgana sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "You underestimate the power of the past. I will ensure that the sins committed by our ancestors haunt you for eternity."

Jennifer replied, the frustration in her voice thick with anger. “It’s okay, Jennifer, it was a long shot anyway, I was not really expecting you to find anything,” I consoled her. “Really?” Jennifer asked with curiosity in her voice. “Why?” “I just found out that our mystery woman is a witch,” I replied. “No fucking way!” Jennifer exclaimed in excitement. “That is so cool! A witch is involved?” I understood her excitement. Witches were like black unicorns. Rare and mysterious. “Apparently, the Alphas stepped on a lot of toes so much that a witch is involved.” I replied.

[Alexander] “Release her right now!” I yelled at the witch who remained standing at the broken door. She laughed with her wicked tongue, and turned red eyes on me. “Who do you think you are, mutt, to give me orders?” “I am Alexander Young, Alpha of Mystic Moon, and I am not afraid of you, witch!” I spat the word out, and boldly straightened my spine, taking the first step up.

Stone, her mate, stood steadfastly by her side, his posture rigid and ever-vigilant, acting as an impenetrable shield for his new family. Ms. Polly stepped forward from the front of the crowd, her presence commanding an immediate, absolute silence. The elder witch wore a flowing gown of deep violet, her silver hair woven with tiny, glowing crystals that pulsed with an ethereal, ancient light. In her hands, she carried the sacred pack basin, filled with shimmering, silver-infused water that reflected the light of the April moon shining through the high glass ceiling.

Then, Damion enters the room. “Did you find anything?” says Adeline before anyone else could say anything. “Yes and no.” He narrates what his grandmother told him about the Junta and the original witch. “So, the Junta is useless now,” says Tyrus “what is this original witch called? I mean her descendants?” “It has to be a female witch of the Serafina lineage.” “What?!” Lilia exclaims. “What happened? Do you know someone with that name?” Asks Damion. “Of course I do and you too. We all know her.” “Who?” “Tasha!”

“You should have run while you still had the chance. And now… I’m going to eat you.” Tears burned down my face as I struggled against her inhuman strength. I wanted to fight, to claw at her grip, to do something—but I was helpless. The witch inhaled deeply, her long, clawed fingers grazing my cheek. She started to chant, her voice a sickening lullaby of ancient words that sent shivers down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the worst. Then, suddenly, she stopped. Her grip loosened slightly, her head tilting as if listening to something unseen. A cruel smile spread across her face.