Gray Haired Witch Novels & Stories

I wonder as I try to pull away again but to no avail. "I'm sorry. "I whisper before saying the incantation that releases his hand and throws him across the lawn; he hits the grass as I run to the door, another growl sounding out, but this time no screams follow. I twist the handle frantically. Mom, grandma, where are you? The door is closed, and it does not budge. I step back, take a deep breath, and whisper another spell to open the door, but it repels, striking me; I stumble back before regaining my footing. That is right because all werewolves have their witches who protect them. I grunt, feeling the side effects of the repelled spell. The growl sounds again as I start pounding on the doo

And in the center, standing by the brazier, was the Witch. She was both less and more than the legend. She wasn’t a crone. She appeared as a woman perhaps in her middle years, with hair the color of ashes and snow, long and unbound. She wore a dress of simple, dark grey wool, but it seemed to drink the light. Her face was pale, sharp-featured, and utterly expressionless. But her eyes… her eyes were ancient. They were the color of a winter sky just before a storm, and they held a void, a depth that promised neither cruelty nor kindness, only an immense, indifferent power.

Tattoos covered her visible skin, but these moved and changed like living things. "Kira Thornbind. Battle witch." The last witch was the youngest. She couldn't be more than twenty-five. Her dark hair was braided with silver threads and her clothes seemed to be made of shadows. "Lyra Shadowweave." They all looked at me like I was something fascinating. It made my skin crawl. "Welcome," Matron Ysara said. Her voice carried easily across the clearing. "Thank you for coming." "Let's get this over with," Axel said bluntly.

Too bad you didn’t think to silence it. Wracking my brain, I try to remember the name of the witch who had been traveling with Selene, recalling that it had been something similar to her own name. Pulling up the recent calls, the name Helene Gray appears in multiple rows, and when I check the profile image it depicts the same ancient woman from the alley. To my delight I see that the two women are sharing their locations, and while I can’t be certain, I’d be willing to bet Selene is already back with her mentor.

“I Alpha Russell reject you as my-” “You cannot reject her and you will not reject her.'' a sharp feminine voice came from behind us. I turned around to look at her. She was in her fifties and wore a black gown with her hair painted black and white. She wore a long necklace that reached below her breast made with coral beads, beads that were similar to my bracelet. She was a witch. Alpha Russell furrowed his eyebrow, his eyes reduced to a split as he looked at her. “She has a wolf. It's just locked within'' she added, maintaining Alpha dean glare with square shoulders that screamed confidence.

Women were prohibited in Sehran at this hour but as the lady in his carriage demanded to meet master Xavier at any cost, the carriage man could not let her down at that. He was blinded by his greed too. "That's an early statement but I can still ensure your well-being!" Princess Rosemary who had her one leg upon the another while sitting charming inside the carriage spoke, she looked at the scenery of the church sliding the curtains a little as the man tensed up after hearing her voice again. The fact that every time she spoke, the carriage man always got weird chills down his spine... she always sounded so mysterious and rare. Maybe the carriage man was just too scared because she introduce

“Good job princess.” I looked around seeing others walking into the woods. One man, a tall slim man dressed all in a black robe was burning something in the fire. The smell seemed to be white. I don’t know why white was the word that first came to me, maybe pure. I looked up at Nikko, “Is he a witch?” Nikko looked down at me, “a warlock maybe. I don’t think he would take kindly to you calling him a witch.” He arched his brow, “why Samantha are you a witch?”

Gail took a step back, opening the door wider. The witch standing outside the door was taller than Gail, dressed in a cream-colored business casual blouse and slacks with a mustard yellow scarf around her neck and draping over a shoulder. Her white streaked gray hair was a little longer than chin length. A serious expression on her face. Joel thought she seemed like she would be more at home at a country club than in a witch’s coven.

A black iron cauldron bubbled gently in one corner, its contents glowing an eerie green. She took a few steps forward, hesitant but curious. “You came,” a soft voice said. Reva turned quickly. The witch stood behind a long oak table covered in rune-inscribed cloth, her hands gently folding a piece of parchment. She appeared to be in her thirties, though her eyes—violet and knowing—held lifetimes. Her long silver-streaked hair fell over her shoulders in loose waves, and though she wore a ragged, dark robe, her presence was regal.

Purple eyes widened as the brunette woman froze by the doorway, a chill running down her spine. "Helena, I would like you to meet my Beta and uncle, Allistor Grundy."