Spellbound Webnovel Novels & Stories

I closed my eyes, letting the power within awaken. At first, it was like a flicker of light in the darkness, faint and uncertain. But as I focused, it grew stronger, illuminating the world around me in ways I couldn’t see before. The runes glowed brighter in my mind’s eye, their intricate patterns revealing themselves. The threads of the spell became visible, weaving together in a complex web of energy. “Elara?” Andrew’s voice broke through my concentration. “I see it,” I whispered, my eyes snapping open. “I see the spell.”

Maybe I didn’t have to push so hard. But I would. She was still breathing, still fighting. That wasn’t good enough. I turned from the window and walked to the corner of my room where I’d drawn a small circle of salt and ash. I stepped inside it, closed my eyes, and whispered the binding spell. The circle flared with a dull red glow, and the air shimmered. Magnus appeared seconds later. Not in the flesh—just a projection—but his eyes found mine all the same. “She’s weaker today,” I told him.

“You are more. This is what we were meant to be.” “I feel like I’ve changed overnight, again.” I whispered, fingertips brushing against the slight glow beneath my skin. “Because you have. The bond unlocked something buried. Something they tried to hide.” My breath caught. “Who?” Sable didn’t answer immediately. Her silence pressed heavy against me, until finally, she murmured, “I still don’t know. It’s like smoke around a memory… but it’s old. Buried..” A tremor slid down my spine. “Why would someone put a spell on a child?”

She scoured ancient texts and scrolls, searching for any hint of forgotten power or hidden strength. Hours passed, and Lola's eyes burned from reading by candlelight. Just as she was about to give up, she stumbled upon a dusty, leather-bound tome. The title faded, but she could make out the words "Beast of Gévaudan." Her heart raced as she flipped through the pages, reading about an ancient and powerful creature that once terrorized the lands. The spells within promised immense strength and near invincibility, but they also carried dire warnings of the cost.

They all said the same thing. “The spell is bound by blood and body material so it cannot be broken by ordinary means. It can only be broken by the one who placed the spell or the spell’s catalyst.” This was the words of the last wizard we visited which was the exact words of the rest of them. I decided to take the last ditch of effort I have left in me when I reached my office. I closed the door behind and dialed Aunt Bella’s number and she picked up on the second ring. “I thought you’d never call.” She echoed on the other side of the phone.

“Something’s wrong with the wounded guards. I don’t know the details, but… I can guess.” Her thoughts drifted back to her mother’s teachings, to the nights when she would whisper forbidden knowledge by candlelight. Dark spells don’t always kill outright, her mother had warned. Sometimes they linger, twisting the flesh, corrupting the mind. And once it begins… it spreads. Althea swallowed hard, recalling the exact words: “When a body consumes flesh, whether by hunger or madness, the spell will take root and spread to all nearby. It multiplies like fire in dry grass. The only way to stop it is to purify it before it grows.”

el that she had brought with her, one that she had kept concealed, even from Dickson and Theo. She opened it and took out a book with care.It was small, but it was old, its binding bound in black, supple leather, its pages weathered to a golden brown. The cover was adorned with curling, delicate symbols so slender they were nearly invisible until the light hit them just right. It gave off a faint, earthy scent, like old paper and desiccated spices."What is that?" Alex Henry said, her eyes flying wider as she caught the arcane power emanating from the book."This," Sama Arthur replied, holding the book in his arms, "is a spellbook. It used to belong to my mother. It's been passed down through

“You know too much. The details. The name. Most wolves would not speak so freely.” He leaned forward. “I have seen cases like yours before. The binding takes hold fast. This spell might work if you act quickly.” I picked up the book but my hands shook. Something about his handwriting on the note inside the cover looked familiar. Too familiar. “Where did you get this text?” Lorne shrugged. “Old family collection. Passed down quietly. The spell is on the third page. Blood and moonlight. Simple but powerful.” I opened the book slowly. The handwriting on the margin notes matched the note I had found in Elio’s cellar cache. The same slanted letters. The same ink. My stomach turned.

Several healers had been flattened against the side of the tent, helpless to assist or even hold her as she thrashed. The black lines traced across the vulnerable flesh of Sable, splintered and puckered like shattered fine-bone china, flooding with dozy emerald light that my Luna' power shrank from on instinct and abhorrence. I knew instantly what was going on in front of us, up there. The dark magic pregnancy spell was running to completion on a grossly accelerated time-scale. Whatever Sable had been toting for months was ready to voice itself into the world now, and it wasn’t supposed to be just a plain old healthy baby.

Grandma continued. Sybil smirked as she walked toward her abandoned home. She retrieved the spellbook and handed it to her grandma. In front of a hundred people, she set her house ablaze and calmly entered. Though bystanders watched a young girl go inside, not a single scream was heard. Sybil had mastered the art of manipulating death. When the flames finally died down, there was nothing left—no trace of Sybil's existence, except for her relentless pursuit of power and dominion over all.