Glamour Witches Novels & Stories

Ilyra explained, her voice gentle but firm as she held the old woman’s hand. "The Nexus? You're both fools if you think you can just walk into the center of the marsh and take what you want, because the path is guarded by the Drowned Witches now," Hestia said, and she looked up at me with a grim, knowing smile that chilled me to the marrow. "They are the spirits of the women your pack threw into the black pools during the raids, and they’ve spent the last twenty years waiting for a Rauvenhollow wolf to come back so they can pull him down into the silt and keep him there forever."

Across from us stood Erasmus Bluthexer, Velan’s pompous royal warlock, his gray hair slicked back, his crimson robes screaming arrogance. Behind him, the five witches—Brunhilde, Hildegard, Ingeborg, Gretchen, and Ursula—lounged on conjured chairs, their cackles already echoing. “Ready to spank this overgrown toddler, Niklas?” Walda grinned, twirling her crooked cane. I inclined my head, a faint smile tugging my lips. “A gentleman never shies from duty, Walda. Though I suspect you’ll enjoy this more than I will.”

“Found you, ” I whispered. Beneath it, my mother had written: The Witches of Virelyn. I swallowed and kept reading. They were an ancient coven. Power-hungry and dangerous that sold their magic to powerful packs in exchange for protection and influence. They specialized in dark magic. Not reckless chaos, but controlled corruption. Enhancements. Manipulation. Control. Anything. My fingers trembled as I turned the page. They were wiped out after a spell meant to bind wolves permanently to feral instincts went wrong. No

"The werewolves of the pack near Stillwater Range have come to Gabbs to visit Mr. Hammond. Beta Damon invited them to Fittro Club to have fun and asked you to serve them." Christine said with embarrassment. "I understand. Let's go," Gloria said nothing else, and she had no intention of blaming Christine. If anyone in this world hated Gloria more than Patrick, it would probably be Damon, the Beta of the Black Thorn Pack. Gloria quietly followed Christine to the fifth floor, where guests from the various packs were entertained. Gloria changed into a wolf costume, and Christine looked into Gloria's puzzled eyes. Christine had mixed feelings and said with sympathy, "These guests are from the Bla

Witch! ***

Something was weird, I could sense it, but I couldn't point out exactly what it was, though I had a guess of who the source of the weird stuff was going to be. I moved my gaze to the guys walking behind her. A few seconds passed and nothing unusual happened. Maybe it's nothing after all, I returned my gaze to Lovely, but was forced to tear my gaze off her and stare at the guys behind her. The sound of bone breaking filled the air. My eyes widened as I stared at the posture the ground of guys was making. The sound of bone breaking, their current posture... I knew it all too well, it was something so familiar. It was all too familiar, they were shape-shifters also.

Flameheart A grand ceremony was held to celebrate my victory over Ambrosia, and the atmosphere crackled with excitement and reverence. The air was thick with anticipation as beings of all kinds gathered under the twilight sky, their diverse forms shimmering in the fading light. Witches in flowing robes, vampires with their elegant demeanor, and shifters radiating raw energy filled the clearing, creating a vibrant tapestry of unity. Lanterns adorned with intricate designs hung from trees, casting a warm glow that illuminated the faces of the gathered crowd.

It devoured it. Her eyes were the most horrifying part—not because they glowed, but because they didn’t. They were voids, empty of light, like staring into the beginning of time. When she looked at you, it was like she was peering into all the choices you never made, all the sins you thought you buried. She didn’t walk. She glided. Around her stood witches—not the kind we had fought in battle, but twisted things. Their faces were bone-thin, almost translucent, and their limbs bent in unnatural ways. They were wrapped in ceremonial robes that pulsed with dark enchantments, runes written in blood and shadow.

The rest of the sisters rushed to her side, laughing maniacally and whimpering as they cowered behind her, away from the angry werewolf Alpha. If a person were to look at the witches with the naked eye they wouldn't see anything except four extremely beautiful women but because I had a special gift of seeing the unseen, I could see their true form and they were ugly. They had green scaly skin and broad noses that pressed flushed to their faces. Their eyes were completely black, no other colour and their hair was long and trailed on the ground like a cape. They didn't wear clothing, their hair covered their bodies because of its length and extreme volume.