Spellbound Novels & Stories

"The Grimoire of Imogene Greenreaver. Only those in my line shall read the words upon these pages. So mote it be." A shiver ran through Saffron as she read her grandmother's words. She turned the pages and found that this was indeed a book of spells, not just one of traditional remedies. Her eyes widened as she flipped through the spells. A tingle ran through her fingers as she read one for casting light in the darkness. Confused she looked at her hands. They seemed to glow slightly. She flexed her fingers experimentally. A spark of light shot from them.

Covering the fingers should be enough for this spell. “Khambasa ga saori.” The revelation spell. A green smoke billowed from where the seal was and I watched as it swirled upwards and formed the image of a little girl. Games, games, games. The devil likes to play games. I smirked. There were plenty of devils in this world, but only two came to mind that was this infuriating. This is either Sufians’ doing... or Nailah's. The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. Sabrina’s not that experienced in infusing magic yet, so it can’t be her.

Physical traits. My hand moved without thinking, brushing lightly against the side of my ear. I had always been told I was human. I had believed it, because there had never been anything to question. But now, standing here, reading this, it didn’t feel like the truth anymore. It felt like something I had been made to believe. I swallowed, my throat dry as I forced myself to keep reading. Such bindings require a blood anchor. Only one of the same bloodline, most often the mother, may cast a seal strong enough to hold royal magic for extended years. The cost is great, and the spell cannot be undone by the caster once completed.

I left before I said something I couldn’t take back. Outside, whispers filled the air. Wolves spoke of dreams filled with fire, of Ember’s shadow standing over their beds, whispering their names. I followed one of them to the temple courtyard and found what I feared—a spiral of burnt feathers and blood. A link spell. She was binding them to her. Kaela found me there later, her cloak drawn tight. “I didn’t agree to this,” she hissed. “Whatever she’s doing—it’s spreading. Magnus isn’t himself.”

A circle of robed figures surrounded her, their bodies swaying in synchronized rhythm, their mouths spilling ancient incantations that made the air thicken and pulse. Fire curled in their hands—not red, not orange—but a deep violet laced with ink-black shadows, each flame a heartbeat of corruption. My skin crawled. This was no ordinary spell. It was summoning. Something was being pulled through the veil, something ancient and hungry. But it wasn’t just Selene’s power they were using—it was her very soul. Her essence was the anchor. The key. And I feared they had already turned it. Then I saw him. Sebastian.

"But we have to be careful. If he's as scary as I think we can make no mistake." I nodded, my determination tightening. "We'll do it. Whatever it takes." Over the next few days, we delved into the shadowy world of Sebastian Grey, gathering bits and pieces of information from various sources. He seemed to be following a spell—Grey’s path was impenetrable, his relationships buried deep in deceit and conspiracy. As we learned more about his actions, it became clear that Gray was not just a minor player but an influential figurehead. Its reach extended beyond Lawson's policies and involved powerful individuals and institutions.

Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, united by their love and unwavering belief in Sable's power. As they closed the ancient book, its pages seemed to whisper a final message—an invocation that would awaken the dormant magic within Sable and unleash her true potential. With trembling hands, she traced her fingers along the faded lines of text, speaking the words aloud. The air crackled with energy as a brilliant light enveloped Sable, ethereal tendrils dancing around her like ribbons of stard ust.

The wolf shifted, bones cracking and flesh folding inward as the beast reshaped itself into a man, tall, broad and dark haired, lifting the unconscious girl into his arm with careful precision. Lyra Even unconscious she radiated power, wild, bright and dangerous. Her auburn hair glistening in the moonlight. She was.... Mine. The woman muttered something urgent, the man nodded once, then they were gone, vanishing into the forest like they were never there in the first place. I waited. Only when their presence was gone, did I step out of the shadow. The clearing felt hollow without her. I walked to the center where the spell had ruptured, my boots crushing broken twigs and damp soil. My gaze l

The shadows at the edges of the runes shivered like they were tasting the air for blood, for fear, for dominance. Sierra clenched her fists, fingers grazing the chalk. She whispered the trigger phrase, her voice tight, sharp. A flicker of silver sparked at her fingertips—but it was wilder than usual. The shadows responded instantly, snaking higher, twisting faster than she expected. Her anger, her jealousy, her protectiveness over Malick—it all fed the spell, amplifying it beyond the controlled parameters she’d intended.

Two catalysts in the shape of a bear and a chest plate. Those whistle that brought the horror and hate no longer burst from her lungs for she cannot move. There is an arcane circle crafted from the runes and the elf’s mana pool that prohibits her movement. This energy bond is as big as the radius crafted from the trees that are marked from before as if the mouse has sprung its own web of sorts. Although the siren’s movements are no more, she is still able to laps her lips to make a voice of protest. “What spell is this?” Xialn smirks under the confines of his helmet. His own tone laps out of his mouth in the same pitch and language as the monster in front of him. “A simple binding spell on a