Fictional Witches Novels & Stories

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.

“I don’t care who they think you belong to or if they think I’m cursed,” Xaden’s voice drops, rough with an edge dangerously close to possession. “When you’re not near me, I’m not myself. I exist because you do. And when that uncontrollable hunger takes over you- tell me, Liliana… who else can satisfy it?” Liliana shivers, “I can’t…” Alpha Xaden’s hand slides to her waist. “Are you already in heat, mine? ” His voice matches the intensity of her need. A promise to ruin her. ~ She’s The Cursed Alpha’s cure. The Wizard’s secret. The Dragon’s chosen. Liliana Veyne enters Supraveil Academy to kill. Hidden behind a stolen identity, her mission is simple- get close to the future Alpha, Xaden Draven, earn his trust, and end his life. Then find her missing sister, the one who was taken the night their parents were slaughtered- and finish what was started years ago. But Supraveil is nothing like she imagined or has heard about. Wolves are not the only predators trained within its walls. Witches, dragon riders, and creatures she thought existed only in forgotten history now walk beside her- each one preparing for a war against something far more terrifying than death itself. Alpha Xaden is worse than the rumors. Due to his curse, he’s untouchable. Every woman he mates dies under him. Liliana was never supposed to be his true mate. But when she’s in his presence, she’s a mess of puddles. Why do two other powerful men- the academy’s most feared mage, and Xaden’s own twin, seem drawn to her in ways that make escape impossible? What if loving the men who would do anything to claim her means stepping straight into ruin?