Ice Witch Novels & Stories

It's slavering jaws hung open and its razor-sharp teeth were bared, as it advanced towards her with its blood-red eyes, ablaze with undisguised hunger. It occurred to Merlin that werewolves didn't normally have red eyes, something was wrong with these werewolves and the more she thought about it, the more convinced she became. The werewolves were not rogues, they were under a powerful spell and instinctively, she knew that only another witch could cast such a spell. The only witch that had been capable of such a feat, was Aunt May, but Merlin knew that she was dead, which meant that there was another and for some reason, this thought filled her with a feeling of growing disquiet.

Isaacs guess it is most likely a spell and he fears for his mate. But after some minutes , nothing happens. " How?" the witch screams and Isabella smiles crossing her hands behind her back. That's the same question Isaacs ask her through the link and Isabella answers him ""I was born on the winter solstice. That is a huge power source, what makes me powerfull and dangerous. A witch from a friendly coven with the ability to see, saw my birth and my power. She came to our home and said that I could be used for bad and that they need to make me safe. She and her coven came back on my first birthday and cast a protection spell that can't be broken, a spell that makes it impossible for anyone to

I spat on his overcoat. “Do you see!” Mathis turned and gestured to the spittle seeping down his shirt. “She’s still possessed by the witch. She told me this one commands her.” He turned on Udora. “What?” Udora blinked in horror. “But I’m not a witch! I don’t command Saria. If anything, she tells me about!” "It’s true!" I cried. Trying to defend her. Mathis gave a whistle that echoed through the corridors and foyer of WitchFall.

"Well, there is one that I've heard from your grandmother as a child. About a wolf and a witch. Would you like to hear them?" "I do! I do, mama. What is it about?" She chuckled at his eagerness "Well, a long time ago, there was a legend shared in the midst of the wolves. It's about the wolf king and a beautiful witch." "What does this wij do mama? What power does this wij have?". "Legend says the witch has the power to create, control and turn things to ice. She was the descendant of the Goddess Khione." "Oh, isn't she the famous snow goddess mama?"

It works because of the way the brain is wired with words and images. Ursula, who is believed to be the only witch existing believes that power and authority are only for witches. She had been banished a thousand of years before because she had tried to poison the Summer King whom is no more alive. For thousands of years she hid in the forest, seeking her dark revenge.

Even when I had totally masked my own. A trigger had been needed to awoke her and bring her to the surface. Sensing her mate's proximity to death at the hands of Addanc, she had reacted and finally pushed forward. I had so many questions about her. I was born a witch, my mother and father didn't have any werewolf genes whatsoever, so how had I phased? I had been raking my saturated mind for any feasible answer but nothing came up. News had travelled first across the packs, it was inconceivable for a witch having a wolf. As her whines filled my mind and her being called for her mate, my eyes brimmed with tears.

Stone, her mate, stood steadfastly by her side, his posture rigid and ever-vigilant, acting as an impenetrable shield for his new family. Ms. Polly stepped forward from the front of the crowd, her presence commanding an immediate, absolute silence. The elder witch wore a flowing gown of deep violet, her silver hair woven with tiny, glowing crystals that pulsed with an ethereal, ancient light. In her hands, she carried the sacred pack basin, filled with shimmering, silver-infused water that reflected the light of the April moon shining through the high glass ceiling.

She closed her eyes exhaling deeply before taking a step away from the tree. “Where do you think you're going?” Katherina asked resting her left arm on the tree obstructing Danica. Danica smirked. “Two vampires,” Danica said. “Is she a witch?” Katherina asked looking at Iago who was standing next to her. “She is just a feeble supernatural with the power of elemental manipulation.” Iago mocked. Danica clenched her fist glaring at them, her eyes flashing blue. “Get away from my aunt.” Michaela said pushing her hands through the air. Katherina and Iago got moved away, they got back on their feet but this little witch was getting their brains fried.

His fingers twitched. He was coming back. “Stop!” I screamed. The witches turned. The one in the centre was ancient. Her skin was like parchment. Her eyes were black pits. This was the blood witch. Octavia. “You came,” she said. Her voice was dust and death. “I did not think you would. Most children run from their father’s resurrection.” “Let him go. Let him rest.” “Oh, he will rest. After he destroys you. After he proves that defying the Council was a mistake.” She smiled with too many teeth. “The ritual is nearly complete. Another minute. Maybe two. And Marcus Steele will rise.”

while its retractable wings pulled back to a size of a pigeon. “It’s livestock, Siegfried. The human will eat it later.” “We can kill the human now, if you wished it, Mistress.” “I know the girl. She is the daughter of the fishmonger at the foot of the hillside–” The witch and her now several lackeys swayed their heads and the detached, petrified limbs altogether to the rumbling snoozing. “Huh? Hee-hee-hee,” the cherub morphed from the cupid’s arrow brush, a ubiquitous weed, again stared imploringly to its mistress. The swollen fingers tapping each other.