Lion Witch Wardrobe White Witch Novels & Stories

She tried to reach to something in her jacket and I was pretty sure it wasn't a surpise gift for me. I whispered again. This time much quicker, and then she fell unconscious. “Yeah, wolfsbane doesn't protect you against witches, b*tch.” For some reason, I didn't want to drive her truck. I felt it was smarter if I took her in mine and then questioned her in my house. Now, this wasn't smart at all but I felt more comfortable doing it.

Her aura is glowing brightly around her like a bright white light. "Ward," she calls out to me before she falls to the ground. Bracing herself on her hands and knees, she rips the blue cloak from her body. She is wearing a black gown and white hair is beginning to sprout from her skin. "She is marked," one of the witches screams out from the front.

“my name is Tabitha and these are my followers, my friends we are all White Witches” Tabitha, she’s the one we’ve been looking for “Tabitha the White Witch, you are the one the Elemental Empress seeks, I assure you no harm will come to you and your followers from me or anyone in my company, you have my permission to enter the pack land” “thank you” they cautiously move closer to us and bow “I am sorry I am not able to offer you a warm welcome at this time, the entire city is in chaos”

Ruby curtsied and started heading towards the door. "Ruby, you're still only wearing a slip." Phoebus reminded. "Oh, am I?" A bright light suddenly encased the witch's body for a second before disappearing again. Her purple slip was replaced by a red and white off-shoulder dress with a black collar. A red cloak was wrapped around her shoulder and the purple butterfly covering her right eyes was replaced by a red one. Her long silver hair was tied in a braid decorated by the same red butterflies. Ruby pulled the hood over her head and winked at the marksman before exiting from the door.

Leading them was Rufus, or better still Alpha Nikias Attalos, the Alpha behind the hoods, followed closely by the other Alphas. Behind the werewolves stood the witches, their robes fluttering in the wind, hands crackling with magical energy. They were the masterminds, ready to guide the battle with their spells and incantations. The witch leader, Lillian, had long hair that flowed like a dark river down her back, and her fierce eyes glowed brightly. She wielded a staff made of ancient oak, topped with a crystal that pulsed with an eerie, otherworldly light.

It projected a moving image of two people, Tristan and Anne. It was that time when he revealed his special ability to Anne. "Didn't see that coming," stunned, the Witch made her remark. "How was that possible, Teacher?" eyes wide open, Sherfy asked. The dragonfly emerged from the mirror and fixated itself on the surface of Serina's emerald brooch, which is clipped on the cloth on her chest. With that, it appears to have lost its life and completely turned into an embossed decoration to the gem. "How about we ask him directly?" she answered with a smirk.

She turned to Lorenzo as she continued. “You asked before, Alpha, about my cloak. The colours represent a witch’s primary source of elemental magic. They gave me a red one at first, but I can actually wield all four elements - fire, water, air, earth - and I can combine them. I’m the first white cloak in this coven in over one hundred years and there are only a very small number of us in the entire world. So now I just use my red cloak when I’m out gardening, because it’s too hard to keep the white one clean, even with magic.” “I always said you were going to be a badass,” replied Drew, in awe.

90 meters, their eyes piercing through the hall, their lips pressed, and their hair cut to its lowest. Then followed the White Witches of Panoma. They graced the venue in white robes that flowed to the ground, with purple belts respecting the day’s colors. Their hair was held up with silver ornaments, and golden bracelets hung on their wrists with different colored gems, indicating their ranks within their territory.

It was all white marble, minimalist racks, and the faint, expensive scent of lilies. His cousin Vivian—a sharp-tongued wolf with a penchant for high-waisted trousers and cutting remarks—met us at the door. "Alpha. Luna," she greeted, her eyes scanning me with clinical precision. "You look like you've been sleeping... or not sleeping. Either way, we have work to do. I have a silk piece in emerald that will make all the she-wolves weep." "Nothing too modest, Viv," Luca said, leaning against a velvet chair with the kind of casual arrogance only he could pull off. "I want something that looks like she’s claiming her throne."

She embodied power itself. By the fourth week, packs were starting to choose sides. Some sought alliances with her while others wished for her death. Fear spreaded like wildfire because power like hers does not yield to Alphas or respect hierarchy. It disregards tradition altogether. By the eighth week, her name was on everyone's lips from the coast to the mountains: The White Witch, the wolf who drains souls and commands death itself. Some believed it was Numenessa; others disagreed.