Freya From Witches Of East End Novels & Stories

“Just… keep going… find her.” Kaelb growled in frustration but kept running at full speed, Freya’s scent was still strong and I wondered not for the first time how she was so dam fast. Her scent was not mixed with anything else like gasoline so I knew she was on foot. She had not used magic ever, only ever herbal healing stuff when we were together. Sera had spoken to me about how she had never seen or learned about her Wiccan side so how could she be using magic now? There weren’t any other Witches nearby… except… The old hag, Cindy. “She is dead when we find them.”

Her widened eyes blinked at Blaire, already knowing the answer was wanting Blaire to admit it, thereby indirectly accepting her unspoken offer to help. Freya was a nice girl; despite being of a high rank, she was like a kid in a candy store who could easily turn into a sly vixen whenever she pleased, especially when she was horny. Her aura when faced with something serious was also different, but other than that, she preferred to take on the resemblance of a child. She smiled a lot, and her fascination when presented with something new and different was almost…

Shelves crammed with jars and bottles and objects I couldn't identify. And standing behind a cluttered counter— Madame Freya. Small. Petite, actually. Raven-black hair pulled into a neat bun. Delicate features. Eyes that were too dark and too knowing. She looked harmless. Grandmotherly, almost. My skepticism returned in full force. This was supposed to be a powerful witch? This tiny woman who looked like she couldn't intimidate a field mouse? "Welcome." Freya smiled. "Britney, lovely to see you again. And you must be Melissa."

Suddenly, she sprinted out of the room and straight out of the hospital. Ross yelled out her name and tried to follow her, but Griffin was faster. He ran out of the hospital room and straight after Freya. Freya ran with all her might as she ran out of the hospital premises. She ran through the road, refusing to look back as she sensed him after her. "No!" She yelled again, still very surprised that she actually saw the devil today. "Freya stop!" Griffin called, but Freya refused to stop. She wanted to use her powers to support herself, but she needed to keep her fact that she was a witch from everyone, so she could only depend on her half wolf strength.

"Get her out of my sight. She means nothing to me. The pain was unbearable. My hand squeezed against my chest, my knees threatening to betray me, but I held onto Jenny. We held each other's gaze for a while, and then Brayden tilted his head with indifference, almost like he was daring me to challenge him. "I, Freya of the East End pack, accept your..." My stomach lurched as blood slurped from my lips. Faint whimper from my wolf howling inside me. Brayden was unmoved, his jaw hardened with his hands inside his pockets.

Elira replied to him. Meanwhile, Freya was back in the witches hidden house, under the scrutiny of Imogene. She’s been offered food and a lot but she couldn’t eat. She had broken the bond with the Alpha, but he was all she could think about. Nothing had felt right. The door to her new room creaked open and Imogene entered. Freya looked up. She was a surreal beauty with long red hair that stopped right beside her hips. Her looks were enchanting. That, Freya couldn’t deny. But she just couldn’t accept her energy as her guidance yet.

He went ahead to introduce himself, a smile brewing on his face. A look of realization appeared on Freya's face as she finally recalled where she knew him from. At the same time, she was relieved. She didn't want to imagine what'd happen if any of the pack warriors caught her with what she was holding. “I see. I beg that you excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” She uttered with a light bow, and turned her back to him. However, before she could walk away, she heard his voice again. “Witches and wizards make use of their hands to cast spells and the rest of them. But that doesn't mean we're entirely useless without them.”

"And then the Firebreathers arrived. They called themselves red witches.Their only ability, wielding fire." "Freya, from the red witch clan that worshipped Hestia, the goddess of fire, fell in love with and married a wolf. A werewolf with potential for being Alpha. They had their first child, a red witch, Harriet. Freya conceived again eight years later and even before Adrian was born, she knew he was going to be what everyone would grow to fear. A mutant. A hybrid. The first of his kind. She knew her child would not have a chance against the cruel world and when her mate died in one of the battles between factions, she went into hiding from her clan until she delivered. Only Freya and her d

It hits her, and she falls hard and fast. “Zeus, catch her.” Zeus shifts and flies over to her, but she stops herself. “Open the portal; I’ll bring her with me.” She instructs. Zeus descends and shifts. She waves her hand, and the portal opens. Rivk, who must have been hiding, rushes through, and so does the witch. “Should I catch them?” Elliot asks. “No, leave them.” He nods and dashes through the portal. “What about that wolf?” Zeus asks, looking at Eric.

So of course, I did what most abandoned or orphaned children did, and made up my own story. I had been just about everyone over the years, I had been Charlotte, the betas daughter travelling to see the world. Bethany the abused daughter of an unforgiving man, looking for shelter and compassion. Martha, the baker’s daughter. Judy, the traveller’s wife. Michelle, the starving artist. Opal, the musician. Tracey the writer. Louise the ‘dancer’ and Grace the stylist. But in fact, I was Freya, the abandoned rogue. It didn’t have quite the same air of adventure, did it? then I guess that reality never does.