Sigils Witch Novels & Stories

"Agatha, what are you doing here?" He repeated the question of the girl. " Nothing, I got lost". I said the first thing that came to my head. "Really? What did you see?". Before Jackson questioned me, Melvin stepped forward and grabbed my hand, and at that moment, I felt a trigger in my other hand. I may not know anything about Witches, but my dad always tells me that to identify a witch, one of the ways happens to be the spark. "Hey ! You're a wizard, aren't you?".

Witch! ***

My eyes met hers and her scent, the delicious scent that had me going crazy hit me harder than ever, my eyes widened, I couldn't believe this, my nostrils flared and my wolf jumped. "Mate, mate, mate, mate." My wolf danced happily. "Mate." I said and my beta left her hands and stepped back immediately, my warriors turned to me in surprise, I stared at her as her eyes widened, I'm sure she also felt what I felt. I took in her appearance, her strawberry blonde hair that was very long, she had it braided into pigtails, her freckles, her lips, her curvy body, which showed very well, due to her coming out from the water, her nipples were visible and I growled because the others saw that, she was

I simply nodded, my neck still hurting, looking at her. However, there is another story which you may not know… “One of Solomon’s first daughters, an extremely powerful and extremely beautiful witch settled in the Alps. She was going to create a new coven, coven of Slavic Witches. You see, Solomon wanted magic to be taught across the world. He believed and to this day, believes in our kind.. And theirs – the humans”.. I continued nodding, simply staring at her.. She looked as if she were in a different space and time, entranced, as if she was not present there. There was melancholy in her voice, and somehow I knew this story was very personal to her.

The next one listed the clans in the kingdom, with drawings of the symbols they identified with. One, however, caught my eye. It was smaller than the rest, the very last one at the bottom. It was a perfect circle; inside it, intersecting lines twisted together until they formed a sharp X at the centre, with a snake winding up the X, its tongue out. Besides the sketch, a single sentence was written by hand. "The sigil of the Dark Covenant of the Western Witches. Possession of this symbol became punishable by death." The handwriting looked far newer than the faded print surrounding it, as though someone had added the note, long after the book had been written. Why would anyone write that? And

“You’ll destroy me.” Morwein’s laughter is soft, almost tender. “Oh, Alpha,” she says, her voice like velvet over blades, “destruction is the purest form of devotion.” The witch moves to the center of the cabin. With practiced motions, she draws symbols on the floor, circles, sigils, lines of power that hum with crimson light. The air thickens until each breath feels like swallowing smoke. My wolf snarls weakly in my head. “Killian, she’s preparing the extraction…”

Too precise to be accidental, swirling through the air around us. Maelin Lockspire. My insides twisted like I’d taken a blow to the gut. She was Interregnum damage control. Not killed. Contained. Sigil cages intricately crafted with threads so small that most witches couldn’t view the full design without bleeding from their eyes. Containment sigils. Designed to hold us. Keep us. Trap us. Still. Maelin Lockspire was in Archead.

"If you refuse to cooperate, I will report this directly to the Elders' Council. I'll tell them exactly how you blasphemed against the sacred mark of the Moon Goddess." "And if you dare say the word 'apologize' again, I will cripple that precious Beta of yours. Then, I'll come for you." Wyatt's face went pale. "You're insane, Faye! The Council won't just laugh, they'll dismiss you for making a scene over nothing!" "Then let's find out." I turned and began gathering my spilled herbs. "I'm sure the Elders will be very interested to learn that a great Alpha carved his Beta's sigil onto his mating mark."

I adjust Leah in my arms, refusing to let go of her even as my Lycan claws against my chest. We step into the council courtyard, and the air shifts immediately. The smell hits first, iron and rot, thick enough to choke. The torches flicker unnaturally, their flames sputtering even without wind. And on the stone floor, spread across the entire courtyard, are symbols. Witch sigils. Drawn in blood. The lines are jagged, ritualistic, forming circles within circles, runes twisting together in patterns I don’t understand but recognize all the same. The witch's touch is all over them.

Aria’s fingers traced them instinctively. “These are binding sigils,” she murmured. “Old magic. Wolf blood and... something else.” Damien frowned. “Witchcraft?” “Possibly. Or something even older.” She turned to him, her gaze resolute. “I’ll need your help.” Together, they pressed their palms to the symbols. A sudden jolt of energy surged through their bodies as if the magic resisted them at first. Then, with a groan, the iron door shifted, revealing a stairway spiraling into darkness.