Left For Dead The Witch Novels & Stories

“I swear to God, I’ll kill you, you monster!” James only smirked. “You can’t even stomach a few words. Your sister endured more than you ever could. Pathetic.” Victoria’s smile was all venom. “Just finish him already. I’ve got the password to the DeLuca safe. Once he’s gone, we can go collect what’s left.” James stopped in front of Matteo, raising the hammer high. “Too bad,” he said softly, almost wistfully. “You don’t get to die the way she did. What a shame—you’ll never know what real pain feels like.”

A wood that won't burn and comes to life once fed with blood. A witch's blood. Once the tree tastes the blood on its bark, it will serve its master and die once the master has passed as well. As the gargoyle announcer announced, I stood in front of the two large dark doors. "Presenting our lady and Mistress of Pandora's Castle, Mistress Alice," he says in a deep voice. The doors automatically opened as I looked at the three princes standing on the side. I smile and walk down the red carpet toward my throne.

“Who told you that? Haughter, right? Like I said, she doesn't know much, in fact, no one alive beside Aunt Joanna and me knows shit.” My Mum went on to tell me what that meant. The words were of ancient tongues that the witches of old spoke, and it meant ‘the force of magic is never for bad’. What that meant was magic was never meant to be used for evil, it was a positive force meant to be for the good of all.

Alpha Luther from the Sundown pack asked me in a serious tone. Giving him my attention " That's what I thought at first too but after I look into it, some rogue let information slip and at the end we capture the witch that Alpha Nathan was working with" I let my words hang in the room for a moment to see their reaction. I can tell that the elder did not like what I just said but he couldn't do anything about it because everyone in the room will questions his motive. " Did she say anything?" The elder force himself to ask.

[KILL WHAT'S LEFT] The witch let out a flash of blue light from both hands. The light morphed into a sword held in her hand. The witch did not realise that there was another wolf sneaking up behind her. In one breath, the wolf behind her pounced on the nape of the witch's neck and broke it.

DEARIL POV ******* "This is the end for you witch, I suggest you stop if you want a painless death," I said in a cold voice and the witch turned to face me as she stood at the edge of the cliff, her eyes darting around and over the other wolves that surrounded her. "I did nothing but serve the pack. I don't deserve to die for it. I was told I'll be safe if I kept to the east of the forest".

The grave fearful expression on their faces awakened my sympathy. They were tied to a pyre of wood. A lady in a black hooded cloak walked towards the pyre. With her hand pointed towards the pyre, she muttered incoherent words, and a blaze of fire appeared. This was a witch! Ozark was the werewolf working with the witches? I couldn’t believe my eyes at what was happening. This was the first time I would witness something so out of the ordinary. There was loud gasp and cry from the crowd as the men burnt alive.

she said in a whisper as she closed her eyes and breathed her last. “Mom,” Marissa cried as she hugged her mother’s dead body. Amelia and Adelia also broke down in tears and they were comforted by their mates. No one wanted Cara to die but there was nothing they could do. The remaining lycans and witches, all bowed their heads to show their respect for the witch and the wizard who had contributed immensely to them winning the war. The war was almost over as every one of the hydras and witches who supported Cornelius were all dead and it was time the leader finally died as well.

Their clothes were soaked, darkened almost to black, the metallic scent reaching me before my mind fully understood what my eyes were seeing. Blood. My heart jumped, sharp and fast. I hurried toward them, boots crunching against the dirt. “What happened?” I demanded, my voice cutting through the morning stillness. “Where is she?” One of them wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression flat, distant in a way that made my skin prickle. “It’s done,” he said. “The witch is dead.” Relief hit me so hard it made me dizzy. “How?” I pressed, stepping closer, my gaze sweeping over their stained sleeves, their hands, their boots. “Did she fight?”

She falls lifeless to the ground and immediately her body turns to ash. Keena attacks one of the witches closest to her. She knocks the witch to the ground and steps on the witch's chest. Crushing the witch under her massive weight. The witch writhes in pain on the floor in pain, unable to move. One by one, we attack the witches and they fall. Their bodies collapsing on the pentagram and then finally turning to ash. The room falls silent and the only witch that is left standing is Sylvia's mother. Her eyes are wide with fear as Keena and I both stalk towards her.