Harry Potter Wraith Novels & Stories

“It’s time we take what’s owed us, and to do that we need warriors. Hybrids. You should be grateful. In the old country, we would kill the witches we find, but for now they tell me you’re useful.” Out of the corner of my eye I watch the wolfs body tense like he wants to step between us, but he stays where he is, his eyes tracking the psycho. The doctor stops in front of me, eyes analyzing my body. “Yes… you’ll make a nice hybrid when your usefulness wears off, my little doll.” I flinch as he boops me on the nose, but refuse to answer. My magic dances beneath my skin, just waiting for the chance to fight back, but I don’t move.

CHAPTER 117: THE FEAST OF THE WRAITH The "Lagos-grit" had taught me that a predator is never more dangerous than when it’s cornered, but a Wraith? A Wraith is a predator that has already lost everything, which means it has no fear of the dark.

“This started before the ceremony. That just… made it worse.” His expression tightened slightly. “You think it’s connected to what Varka said.” “I don’t think,” I said, my jaw tightening. “I know it is.” Silence settled between us for a moment, but it wasn’t empty. It was thinking. Weighing. “Say it,” Rhys said after a second. I exhaled slowly. “I think there’s shadow magic in her.” The words landed heavily. Rhys didn’t react right away. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t accept it either. He considered it, his gaze narrowing slightly as he worked through it.

It was a protective gesture that had become a habit over the last few days, one that Scarlett found herself leaning into more than she cared to admit. "It’s the Blood-Wraith," Scarlett replied, her fingers tightening around the cold jade handle of her cinnabar brush. "A creature born of centuries of greed and violent ends. It doesn't just kill; it feeds on the memories of the soul." They were met at the door by a stone-faced butler who led them deep into the bowels of the mansion. The elevator descended far below the basement level, eventually opening into a damp, stone corridor lit only by flickering gas lamps. At the end of the hall stood a massive bronze vault door, etched with ancient ru

The hiding of the clan, however, is the real horror of this world I now live in. The Blackclaw clan hides in the space between worlds, or so I’ve eavesdropped/heard Krono explain one time. On one side, the clan borders the dark forest of a world full of monsters. It is said that the dark forest hides vampires, extinct in be human world, witches and warlocks like Krono, and other human myths come to life. It is said that Lorez found a magical stone that teleported him to this world, where he first met Krono. From there, the tyranny that is Blackclaw began.

There is no legal way by which he could have obtained it. Werewolves are forbidden from using anything with magic in it, and the potion most certainly was magical. Despite the means by which it may have been acquired, I’m glad he not only had it on hand, but was brave enough to use it on me, knowing he was breaking one of the rigid rules, knowing he could face severe punishment. Realizing how thirsty I am, I hobble to where the waterskin is lying on the floor and drink deeply. Enough strength has returned to my arms that I can lift the waterskin up to my lips.

"No it's not. I heard from Joshua the other day, and he heard from his father that they have a book about these things. A wolf would be born of pure white hair, hair that reflects the coldness of her heart. She would rule over the world with Hades one day. There were so many other things but that was all I heard" he said to me wistfully. "Is that all you heard? Really?" I was suddenly interested. Hades and a queen with white hair? That sounded familiar. "Yup. You should ask him if you are interested. The stories he told me were so good I asked for the book.

Susan 's POV: Startled by the vivid dream, I'm abruptly jolted awake. The dampness between my legs serves as a tangible reminder of how my body responds to these forbidden fantasies. I can't shake his face from my mind—those captivating eyes, those lips that brought both pleasures and torment to my senses. "This is sheer madness," I whisper in despair, seeking solace in reciting the Lord's prayer. Waking up repeatedly due to these haunting dreams has become exhausting, and I long for a reprieve.

the old woman asks. "Go, Crane," I say. Crane backs out of the driveway, and we begin our drive to the wolf territory. "We do not have time for this," the older lady fusses. She begins to speak in a language I do not know, but Crane does. At one point, his mouth is moving, saying the words. I knew Crane's mother was a witch. It is kind of the pattern. Witch plus hunter equals reapers and life partners. Sometimes wolves, but mostly witches and hunters.

At one point, Ava saw a vision of her mother kneeling on the ground, cradling an infant in her arms—her. She froze. The others noticed. "What is it?" Ashton asked, tension in his shoulders. Ava blinked. The vision faded. "I saw her. Holding me. She was... crying." As if summoned by the memory, a ripple of magic burst through the air. And with it, came the wraiths. Shadows solidified from mist, taking wolf-like shapes with elongated jaws and smoky fangs. Their eyes glowed with ley-fire, hollow and endless. Kaelin didn't wait. "Wraiths! Defensive circle!"