Magic Tags Novels & Stories

“All I know is, I need to get this portal open so that I can get Melanie back, and I have no idea how to open it.” Maggie was quiet for a second, like she was thinking, before she said, “Portals are tricky. Try different angles. Try different cloaking spells on the tree or whatever is behind it. Try a coloring spell.” “A what?” I asked. “What’s a coloring spell?” “It’s the same spell Francis has been using to color the trees. You can try to color the portal opening so that you can see it. It’s probably at a different angle than what you’re expecting. It’s sort of like splitting the air.”

Kara ordered. “Let's rob,” Andre teased. Maria smiled faintly, her dimple showing off the edge of her face. Beautiful things are always rare. The instant she smiled at him, his lights faded out. He knew she could be the end of him or the beginning. He would do almost everything to see that same sparkle light up in her face but he knew better. He knew better than to believe in fairy tales. He knew better than to ignore the voice inside his head. The voice which sang all the songs he played inside him, the once dominating voice whispering into him.

I asked to distract myself from his body against mine. He made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “Do you think it so easy to use magic? You need the right components. I have a dagger, why would I carry components for such a spell?” “For the event that you drop your dagger through the weave of a net?” I suggested, trying to keep my voice bland. In tale, it was always unwise to provoke magic users. “Hmmm.”

Now, she understood—they were healing. "So… no covens?" Rita asked weakly. Gogo’s laugh was sharp. "No. You must form one. But you must also be sure." She tapped Rita’s forehead. "Use this. Not just your heart." Over the next week, Gogo armed her in subtler ways: Herbs tied in muslin—imphepho for clarity, umhlonyane for protection, beaded bracelets woven with charms against compulsion and a thick Basotho blanket, its geometric patterns hiding older, deeper wards.

The girl is gorgeous until she sneers at me, her eyes looking me up and down. "Watch where you are going!" She shouts in the most dramatic way possible. "And what are you wearing? If you are a student, you need to wear the color of your house. Aren't you sorted yet?" "Sorted?" I ask. Two other girls are glaring at me from behind the blonde girl, clearly her little minions. They all wear the same blue cheerleading clothes, and blondie got pointy ears—definitely Fae. "At Magic Academy, there are four houses; each one represents an element—as you can see, we all belong in the house of water. It values beauty, but beauty doesn't seem important to you since you're wearing those clothes."

Needing more I grind against his flesh as it hardens between my legs. At the motion, his hands move to the rear of this body pulling it closer so he can repeat the motion. I growl into the kiss loving the feel of him against me. He swiftly breaks the kiss meeting my eyes for the first time in days. His eyes widen at my dragon eyes, and he freezes below me. "Hello Mate" I greet him with this mouth. "Magma?" He questions bewildered "She is not here. When I have claimed you she may come back. I must mark you, so you belong to me." I inform him. At my words he grasp my arms holding me back as I lean my mouth toward his neck ready to seal my bite into his skin.

Every story has a beginning, some good, some bad, mine has never been a happy one, no matter who, or how I tell it, nobody will believe me. I can't rely on the people in my life, My parents ignore me, or are cruel to me, my friends are unreliable, and aren't trustworthy either. So what happens when I turn 16 years old, and run away from my problems to another world, only to find myself in the same magical world I played make belief in as a kid? With heartbreak at every turn, and a possible new relationship on the horizon, what could possibly go wrong in this world that hasn't happened to me on Earth?!

"I’m sure." The black-market healer tried to persuade me one last time. "But this is the Silver Moon Pack’s highest Alpha mark. Countless she-wolves dream of bearing this claim. If you wash it off, you’ll lose all your privileges within the territory. You’ll be treated as a packless Rogue." "I want to be a Rogue." I lay down on the cold operating table. "Please, just get on with it." "Very well. Once the procedure is done, I’ll inject you with a high-grade Alpha Scent Masker—it will completely cloak your natural scent for a week. The Alpha won’t suspect a thing."

Saelari was surfacing again. Overhead, Tegan darted through a blast of shadow energy, narrowly avoiding a spike of corrupted essence. “Mags! Left flank!” “I see it!” Maggie roared, slamming into the side of Umbraeth’s monstrous body, sending a spray of dark matter across the cavern floor.

From this close, she could feel the slight chill rising off him, and her breath caught in her throat. “Stunning…” she whispered, her eyes shining up at him. “Ahem… What kind of Majyk was that?” “Mental Majyk. It allows all beings here translate written language the reader can understand when viewed.” He countered, averting his gaze. “But it keeps the original traces of the author. So, you should still see the symbols. This is a spell I am working to create. This parchment allows me to test the Majyk damaging nothing. If the parchment senses something in the Lias that would make the spell invalid, it removes it.”