Spell Guilt Novels & Stories

Mix in a compulsion spell that forces the subject to answer whenever a question is asked, and what you have is someone who cannot lie and cannot stop himself from talking. Jester wouldn’t be surprised if Alveston told him that his inspiration had been the Eterali spell. It was very similar, and just as effective. He glanced at Alisa. He had purposely not told her that Hogar and his associates were under those kinds of spells, but with her Gift, she probably already knew the moment they entered the room. Maybe the cold look in her eyes was more genuine than he thought, and maybe they were not just directed at the suspect.

Iapetus nodded, "The Vita Collybus spell, it exchanges only the imprint of a soul, not real life. It's what they witches identify one another with. Meaning, the blue witch just exchanged her imprint with the couple, well, the wife, to be precise, to hide her identity, highly likely from the owner of the red spell." "But nothing happened to the couple when that imprint was with them. The red spell only followed the blue one to our village after their death." Kitty mumbled. "And there's only one reason for that." Iapetus said slowly, "It couldn't find anything, before that spell was triggered." "Triggered?" Kitty caught that weird word immediately. "Triggered. I looked into the police record;

So I remained silent, and frozen my lips never bother to respond, as my eyes continued to stare at my wristband. With it, Serene sat down beside me, following my gaze, "What happened to Spencer, it was an accident..." she said softly. But her words offered no comfort, absolution eluded me. I knew she was damn right, but the guilt still weighed heavily on me. Spencer had been ruthless in the game, but he was still human. His death had been brutal and senseless. I wanted to believe it had all been an illusion, a simulation, but the reality was that someone had truly lost their life.

I whispered truthfully. “Do not dare,” she snapped, pulling back just enough to make me meet her eyes. “No one deserves this, do you hear me!? No one. You have carried this guilt for centuries, and it has eaten away at your soul for far too long. You went through the most horrendous, horrible, atrocious, unspeakable things that could ever happen to anyone, yet I think your past with Revandrel, the part you played in it, and the guilt of it all…I think that has broken you more than what happened to you.” “Oh, please do not start—“

I look at him carefully and sigh in resignation, “There aren’t two versions. There’s me, and the bitch who goes around pretending to be me.” “What do you mean?” He asks with deep interest. “It’s a glamour spell. She’s been doing it for centuries. Takes my identity, causes some shit and sets me up to take the fall. Pretty genius plan. Means whenever eyewitnesses report to the Delegation that they saw me killing someone–” “All they’d sense is the truth because that’s exactly what they saw,” he completes my sentence as realisation dawns on his face. “Why have you never come forward? If you could just speak to the Delegation they’d know you’re telling the truth,” he says encouragingly.

“Be grateful I don’t sue you for every dime you own.” “Colt, you can’t do this to us. We’ve been friends for years, we deserve better than this. Don’t you think we should get a chance to redeem ourselves?” Jack argues. “Honestly? Nope. I have no guilt. I’ve been told that a cheater is always gonna be a cheater, and both of you have cheated me. I won’t be fooled again. So keep your lies and anything else you were trying to throw at me to ruin my night out. How the hell did you know I’d be here anyway?” Colt demands.

“And after years of trying to earn his trust, he finally did. Victor told me he had a loyal enforcer, a man who had been cleaning up his problems for decades.” More murmurs rippled through the room. “His name is Jack Spell,” Nathaniel said. “An old friend of Victor’s from high school. Victor even offered to ‘lend him to me.’” He exhaled slowly. “Jack and I met a few times. Drinks, small talk, nothing suspicious. But during our fourth meeting… he broke. And he confessed to everything he’d done in Victor Kline’s name… and I recorded our conversation.” Serena and Alice clutched each other’s hands as the recording played before the court. Jack Spell’s voice filled the room, loud and disturbingly

She asked. I raised an eyebrow. "Does that matter?" "Yes." "None are my pack members. I feel responsible because I invested money with him and believe some of that money may have been used or that he might have used our business dealings to cover why he was in our region." She nodded. "Guilt sucks. Guilt gets people killed. Sorry. I don't do guilt jobs." She stood up.

The guilt was an ever-present spectre, haunting my every waking moment and tormenting my dreams. As the days turned into weeks and then months, the guilt refused to relinquish its hold on me. I withdrew from those around me, my laughter silenced, and my spirit dimmed. How could I ever take on the role of Beta when I had failed the one who was destined to be our Alpha? My days were consumed by a never-ending cycle of torment and self-recrimination. Each sunrise brought a renewed weight of guilt, and each nightfall offered no respite from the darkness that consumed my soul.

Lochlan laid out what he needed. ‘Are you sure she’ll fall for it?’ I asked when he’d finished. It was Desmond who answered. ‘She will. Gloria operates on two assumptions: one, that Aaron worships her – which he does – and two, that he’s still corroded with guilt over his first wife’s –’ he glanced at me quickly, then continued – ‘over Marin’s death. Both assumptions are correct. And guilt makes people impulsive. That impulsiveness is what we’re counting on.’