Maternal Wraith Novels & Stories

she continued. Miss Mata stands fiercely, ready to fight. Angrily stared at the dark tornado. “She is a Kala witch. Jheval, a soul thief and an eye eater. I cannot defeat her, she took my eyes before that’s how I died a century ago.” She says and Mike placed Helena’s puppies into their basket. “So, how old are you this year?” Rasmiah says which made Miss Mata groans and rolls her brown eyes.

said Brenna softly. Lianne shifted on the bench, removing her arm around Brenda’s waist, but taking her hand on the table instead. “You would not wish to be without your gift. It is part of who you are.” “It has been manipulated by Walstone and used to do terrible atrocities. I wish it were true that losing our virginity would shed us of our powers.” She blinked rapidly, genuinely desiring it were possible, for it would solve her problems, and she could easily accept Cameron’s request to be his mate.

Luna had brought in a few more books for me to get started on after this one. I opened the book up to a new section that was all about werewolf pregnancy. My chest panged. I didn't think it would be so triggering, but I was once again reminded of the fact that I wouldn't be able to carry werewolf pups. Then again, Heidi was making her crazy situation work, so maybe I could make mine with Tyce work too. I began to wonder if there was anything in the books about humans carrying werewolf babies. There had to be, right? From what I'd heard, it was dangerous and the mother was unlikely to survive it. But that was all he said she said. There weren't any official sources—well, besides maybe these b

"Is that your version of 'I love you,' you silver-haired nerd?" "It is the most accurate version I possess!" he shouted back, and together, they dove into the shadows just as the ceiling collapsed. Back on the summit, the Mother-Wraith had begun the final ritual. The crystal of the Mother-Key was turning a blinding, necrotic white. "Emma, she’s drawing power from your kinetic field!" Kaelen shouted from the stairs. He was leaning against a pillar, his violet eyes tracking the flow of energy. "She’s a mirror! The more you fight her, the more power she gives to the volcano!"

Their limp bodies fell off the chair. “Kill him,” she said to me. “I promise—I won’t say any—” I snapped his neck, tossing his body over the pile. “Now do you trust me?” “Because you killed two of your men? No. I don’t.” “I only killed them because I had to. Besides, my mother wasn’t planning on keeping them alive for long.” She took a seat. “Now where would my mother lock up someone as important as Wraith?” Lilith questioned silently.

"I don't know how to stop feeling!" The wraiths were closing in. They formed a circle around us, their pale green light growing brighter as they drained the life from the room. I felt the warmth leaving my body. My fingers began to turn blue. The violet moon above us was being covered by a thick, freezing fog. And then, the lead Wraith spoke. Its voice wasn't a sound; it was a memory. "Elara... why did you let me die?" I froze. The voice belonged to my mother.

"Hala mentioned her. A being that hasn't walked the earth since the First Moon broke." "She is a Wraith-Mother," Kaelen said, a shiver passing through his massive frame. "The Coven doesn't worship her; they feed her. She doesn't want the throne, Elara. She wants the Hallowed blood because it is the only thing that can give her a physical form in this world. If she reaches you, the Eclipse won't just be a sky-spell. It will be the end of every living soul." I stood up, the movement sending a flare of dizziness through my head. "Then we don't wait for her to come to us. We go to the Silver Mines."

Graceful, but firm. I turned toward the sound, and there she was—Luna Wraithborn. Hades’s mother. A woman who never had to shout to command a room. Her dark violet cloak rippled behind her, and her pale silver armor reflected the rising sun in flecks of blue and white. Her hair was tied in a single braid, bound with a thin golden clasp, and her expression held the restraint of someone who had witnessed centuries of grief and victory alike. “Commander Celeriac,” she greeted me, not unkindly.

The ground split, and out flooded a host of wraithlike forms, each one a twisted memory: the Poisons of Thorns, the Mirror’s Lies, the Fallen Beta’s Betrayal… Nyra’s heart quailed as a thousand voices whispered her failures: “You could not save him.” “You let your daughter die.” “You betrayed your mother’s legacy.” She staggered, hands clutching her ears. The wraiths advanced, tendrils of cold fear wrapping around her ankles. Nyra dropped to her knees. “No,” she whispered, tears pricking. “I am not defined by my fear.” Her inner flame flared; runic lines in her skin ignited silver-gold. She rose, chest heaving, and drew her sword. “Begone!” She leapt forward, cleaving the wraiths with flicke

“The blood-fae has the human’s sister… and your mate.” Then her voice changed. Slower. More distant. “Two lifelines entwined.” The fire crackled sharply. Everyone stilled. “What does that mean?” I asked. The Wraith didn’t answer. Her head tilted again, slightly. “It is rare,” she said slowly, “but only one shall one choose. For to Mate… is to choose.” “Stop speaking in parables, old crone,” Calia snapped, folding her arms. I shot her a look. The Wraith did not flinch.