Magolor Without Hood Novels & Stories

“I STILL THINK THIS IS A BAD IDEA,” Laya complained. “At least, she is not saying she will kill everyone anymore.” Killian smiled sheepishly. Magnolia rolled her eyes at them both. “So how does this spell work?” “You’ll have a different appearance for half an hour, so you better get out of there before the time is up.” “Are you not coming with us?” Magnolia raised a brow. “I can’t get involved in things like this, the tower will find out. I should stay out here anyway, in case something goes wrong.” Laya shrugged. “I think you two can handle yourselves without me.”

Sometimes I caught her staring at nothing, like she was listening to something only she could hear. "There." Dimitri pointed to a building squeezed between two tourist shops. The sign read "Midnight Moon"—a bar that shouldn't exist, according to the human world. "How do humans not see it?" "Witch magic. They see what Morgana wants them to see." He parked and turned to me. "Let me go first. She might—" The car door ripped off its hinges. A woman stood there—my mother's face, but harder, angrier. Morgana Bell, dressed in black leather and radiating power that made the air crackle.

When the women gushed about the embodied spirit, the spits crackled and the beam of sunlight retreated from the assembly to the absent walls temple. “You can wait behind one of the posts, Mother. I can manage this task alone,” said Maga to her aging mother. She was hugging an urn and an emptied keepsake box. Her scarlet, hooded cloak and robe woven in gold trimmings sparkled when she loomed near the altar with ashes that were twinkling stardust, casting an afterglow like the sky after sunset. “If you say so, daughter, but I’ll be at the post by the very low temple steps,” Maga’s mother did what her daughter had asked her.

How dare Wobble use him as a shield? Yondu turned to Chad and grinned. "My offer still stands. Are you willing to sell it?" Chad had not expected Yondu to be so focused on the Blood Ganoderma Lucidum. He sneered, "Sorry, but I'm not selling it!" Chad was about to leave. As he turned around, he noticed a familiar face among the crowd. It was Morgan! Morgan appeared dazed, like he had been hypnotized. He moved behind a group of people like a puppet.

Morgana POV That bitch and her mate always seem to escape with hardly anything happening to them. I am barely regaining my magic and Liora has bruises all over her neck. Since the combination of the chains was iron and silver, the bruises won’t be leaving her neck so quickly and magic won’t cover it.

RHEA The door opened and several witches walked in. Morgana was the last person to come in. She was wearing an ankle length red robe. As the leader of the raven witch clan, my mother used to wear a red robe that looked just like the one Morgana was wearing. Seeing Morgana in the red robe, upset me. The rest of the witches who were Morgana's followers, began to hum. The melody had an eerie feeling to it. It made me feel even more uncomfortable and desperate to escape. The witches raised their voices in harmony, as their leader began to draw a pentagram on the floor, using the blood of an animal.

I asked, my magic up to my chest, my need for information holding it back by a thread. “University sweatshirt. By the back side door,” Morgan said in a shaky breath. “Buzz cut. Blue eyes.” I nodded and stood. “Keep an eye on Beth,” I said to Carly. “I’ll deal with this,” I said to Morgan, our eyes meeting and something coming over my face that probably told her I could handle myself. I slipped through the crowd, and stalked him. Staying along the walls. Expertly, I came up to him, and made eye contact without his friends noticing. I pulled my magic up higher, into my throat as I said, “Walk out the side door.”

I stated. “Why?” “Melanie,” I turned to point at the place we were earlier but to my surprise, there was no Melanie or a whirlwind. “What’s wrong with her?” her mom questioned. “She’s gone out of control.” Morgana frowned. “Look,” She nodded towards King Morgan and the dragon. “She’s over there.” “But she isn’t.” I argued. “She’s invisible at the moment. Just wait and watch.” She folded her hands across her chest as she fixed her eyes on the scene before us.

"Are you planning to go out dressed like that?" Marguerite asked Harry. The young wolf turned his head toward her as he pulled the long black hooded cloak of the Council over his shoulders. He wore simple black cotton pants, and his leather combat boots were weary over them. "Yes. Why? Is there something wrong with my outfit?"