Fiction Books About Witches Novels & Stories

The intruders were many and their scents were masked so I could barely tell who they were or where they came from. A huge fight had broken out, but the intruders were gaining the upper hand, I caught sight of a group of witches chanting a spell to weaken our wolves and I flew towards them immediately. Not many witches can fly and since they were still on the ground, I was sure that they were not witches of higher rank. Meaning they were no match for me. I secured our pack house to protect the Omegas and the children who couldn't fight then I removed their spell from the wolves.

“Our history, how we started our path. That book is a grimoire, a spell book if you will. It holds every spell, curse, potion or summons that the Owens witches knew.” Ivy looked at the page then back at her aunt her eyes narrowed. “Owens? But you, Lucile and mum are all Joneses. Why is Owens so important?” She asked with irritation. Standing back from the book and her aunt. Ivy folded her arms across her chest. Watching her aunts face carefully watching her expressions, assessing everything her aunt did from now on.

She tossed the rubbish into a basket at her feet and flipped through a couple of open books curiously. “The Holy Inquisition,” she read the title of one of the works. “Heavy,” she took the book and put it down. - So, what do we have? "The Powers of the Elemental Witches," an entertaining read. She opened it about half way through and ran her eyes over the yellowish sheets. “Pffff, what idiot wrote that? If you read, so the Great Flood is our work.

“Let’s try this one. It looks like it might cover witches.” “Alright,” Anna said, and together they opened the book. Inside were entries on hundreds of mystical beings. Some were described in detail—werewolves, dragons, vampires, faes, mages—and others only briefly mentioned. Each creature had a page or two, detailing their origins, abilities, and myths surrounding them. Finally, they reached a section labeled Witches. Rhea’s hands trembled slightly as she turned the page. Her heart was beating fast, her breath caught in her throat. Part of her was terrified of what she might learn—but the other part was desperate to finally know the truth.

She opened hlthe book and also noticed that the book was empty. “I can’t–“ Rudina began “Concentrate Young witch” the witch said and that was how Words started to appear on the paper. Rudina read with so much amazement. “I can see them!” Rudina said as she kept turning then suddenly she stopped. “why is there bad blood between Witches and most werewolves apart from the Discrolls?” Rudina turned to witch. “Alright I’ll tell me a story while showing you throwing a trance” the Witch began to say Latin words.

“It drew it here.” My mind reached for old lessons: crumbling pages, whispered warnings, obscure footnotes in the archives that more practical witches had skimmed past. Spirits that lurked between worlds. Things that couldn’t break the Veil on their own, so they waited near places where it thinned. Creatures that didn’t waste energy on bodies or storms when they could feed on simpler things. Fear. Doubt. Resentment. “It’s not just using what was already there,” I said, voice low. “It’s been feeding it. Pushing it. Making sure we stayed as unsettled as possible.”

Raven walked over to a positive nook inside the library and requested Anna as he pointed to the sizeable ancient book series. "Probably someplace right here... Books approximately witches." Anna cautiously browsed the titles at the books' spines, looking for the keyword "witch." Even given her overseas language abilities, she may want to best study 1/2 of them, however, she quickly located an ancient book associated with witches. . . . ……

After a few hours, I plunge then took into semi-darkness, leaving only a small light on, and slip under the covers. I glare at the book. "Very well! It's just you and me!" I lean against the headboard and put the book on my lap. What I discover is fascinating. It's a collection of handwritten accounts of witches of all ages. The oldest dates back to the Middle Ages. The writings are indeed originals. I touch them with deference. What some witches experienced in discovering their gift seems to reflect my own emotions. I'd never thought I'd read so much in one day, but I identify with them so much that I forget the time.

Like a VIP. She looked through the shelf, trying to see which book to start with and for some strange reason one particular book kept calling to her. “The Anthropology and History of Witches.” It was boldly written on the spine of the book and was very difficult to ignore. And as she extended her hand to grab the book, she felt unsure and scared. Almost like she was committing sacrilege by simply being curious about those creatures. Her mind raced back to the witch that was burned infront of the mansion grounds.

“Diana, Mom had called me, so enjoy yourself here. I’ll be back shortly.” I nodded, and she strode out of the library, leaving me alone. I moved toward the werewolves section and started looking for a book about history or anything related to my golden wolf. But I found nothing. I became frustrated. She has a vast collection and not a single book on Golden Wolf. Puffing, the air out of my lungs, I looked around the library, and a book in the witches section caught my eye. I retrieved it. It was the book “The Whispering Witch of Willowdale” with the witch’s history. Not getting what I wanted to read, I decided to read it, so I took it and went to the coach. Settling on it, I opened the first