Mothwing Cloak Novels & Stories

In a lighter shade of gray underneath it, she wears a mid-thigh length hooded sweater dress with black over-the-knee boots. We knew she was a council witch because all the witches from the council wear the same cloak design as her's, but in different colors. They are color-coded by what kind of magic the witch is linked to. Blue is for powers related to water, red for fire, green for earth, and purple for wind. I had never seen a gray cloak before, except today. The brunette completely ignored us and walked in Naomi's direction. I stand up and step forward, giving a warning growl.

"You? You get a gold bar for burying a coffin. If your brother could do the job, wouldn't it be better? "You've laid to rest so many young souls, maybe it's your turn now." Mom's face twisted into something monstrous, her arms and legs jerking towards me like a puppet on strings. I sobbed and stumbled backward, "Mom, it's me, Silvia, what are you doing?" "The Haunts world is here. No one's going to make it out alive. I know how your blood calms the wind. Maybe if we drain it dry, they might spare us."

Hakan raised his eyebrows doubtfully. “That doesn't make sense,” Aria said incredulously. Who else would leave a cloak here?” asked the supreme leader of the anarchists. “Someone who wants to set us up,” Drago said mildly. “This cloak is a decoy. Everything here is a decoy. The best thing we can do is to leave immediately and get away from here. My dragon doesn't feel comfortable around that power.” “Neither does my beast,” Connor said with a frown.

His steps are sure, his body rigid, as he moves into a clearing, and the fogs rolls out, revealing six witches in dark cloaks, their hoods shadowing their faces. All but one. “It’s not often we have the honor of hosting a king in our coven,” Morgathra says as she bows low, her black cloak picking up dirt and leaves as she rises. She has raven black hair so straight and thin it’s easily picked up by the lightest of breezes that snakes through the forest all around her. Her eyes are dark and glassy–a very dark shade of green, I realize. She’s odd looking. She seems so young–her voice is so lifted and lightly seductive when she speaks, when she greets my father with another dramatic bow, that I

"Thank you, Aunt Cleo. This means a lot to me." The pendant Aunt Cleo gave Aqua was nothing short of mesmerizing. Crafted from sterling silver, the pendant was shaped like a delicate crescent moon, symbolizing the mysterious and potent nature of Aqua's powers. At the center of the crescent nestled a large, oval-cut gemstone that was uniquely clear, like a drop of captured morning dew. The clarity of the stone made it particularly special, as it reflected Aqua's emotional state, changing color with her mood. Intricate filigree work adorned the crescent moon, with tiny symbols and runes etched into the silver, each representing protection and strength. The craftsmanship was exquisite, making i

The embroidery seemed to shimmer in the dappled sunlight, casting a subtle glow on the fabric. The coat, fitted to perfection, showcased Liam's broad shoulders and regal stature. A silver brooch, a family heirloom, adorned the lapel, securing a cloak that billowed gracefully as he moved. The cloak itself was a masterpiece, crafted from the finest materials and lined with a delicate pattern that echoed the flora of the winter garden.

Odhan agreed. "What is this procedure you talked about? Will it hurt her in any way?" Darius asked Odhan. "This procedure is called shadow cloaking. It can be done with all the shadows. If I cloak myself with another person's shadow, no one can see me cloaked inside that shadow. Only the shadow would be visible. But Melanie is still invisible, no one can see her as well. This procedure needs practice and only a selected few can do it" Odhan explained politely. "Ok, you better bring her unharmed" Darius warned.

Inside rested the Moonstone Bracelet—the ancient heirloom of the Night Shadow line, said to channel the Goddess’s favor. She fastened it around my wrist. A collective breath sucked out of the room. Recognition. Acceptance. Power. Martha’s eyes blazed with barely contained fury. She snapped her fingers at a servant. “It’s chilly in here. Bring the white fox cloak for Leah. She’s… underdressed.” The heavy fur mantle arrived—gorgeous, ostentatious, and deliberately chosen to make me look ridiculous when paired with my plain traveling clothes and scarred face. Last life, I’d accepted it gratefully, only to become the laughingstock of the evening.

Hauled Seraphina toward the window. "It's too high!" She cried. Looking at the forty-foot drop into moonlit gardens. "Trust the shadows." I said. I kicked the glass out. As we dove, I unfurled the Shadow Evasion cloak. We didn't fall. We drifted. Shadows of the building rose up to meet us. Wrapping around our bodies like a cold embrace. A bolt of solar fire hissed past my ear. Scorching brickwork. I looked up. The Matron was at the window. Face a mask of holy rage. But she couldn't see us. To her eyes, we were just ripples in the night.

It snakes its way up my leg, binding me in its grip. Before I can react, I'm pulled into a dimly lit room. Four figures emerge from the shadows, their faces obscured by dark cloaks. But there's something different about them. Their cloaks are lined with a deep blue, and each of them has a strange, intricate design etched onto their left eye. Women. They are female members of Umbra’s cult. But why is it blue? I try to struggle against the mist, but it holds me fast. I can feel its icy grip tightening around me, draining my energy. I focus my celestial power, channeling it into a protective shield. The mist recoils, unable to penetrate my defenses.