Spells From Every Witch Way Novels & Stories

I said and took the Grimoire. "So how are you going to know which spell to use?" Tabitha asked me. "That's simple..." I said and closed my eyes . "Delasita Delutosa Delontria..." I chanted and opened my eyes. The book started to turn the pages on its own and ten stopped. "Clever girl, you used a location spell." Kathryn said. "Yes I did." I said with a smile. I took the book from the table. There was a spell and a drawing illustration. According to the spell I had to do a few things, it didn't seem too complicated. I drew a witches circle on the table.

“At that time, my mother was so thrilled about helping me that she took the help of the sacred books without the knowledge of my father and didn’t even check if the witches of the white world were allowed to perform that spell or not. And guess what? It was a sin for the witches of the white world to even see that spell, let alone perform it. On the day she performed the spell, something disastrous happened. The spell demanded the sacrifice of life, and for that, she killed a female wolf that was roaming the forests. However, she was so consumed by that spell, which was because of the darkness of the spell, that she didn’t even check the wolf. That she-wolf was pregnant.” Martha said, her ey

Thinking of it now, she believed this would be one of the advantages the pack would enjoy if Ketura succeeds in convincing Zipfarah to join this war— the knowledge and the strength of pro witches. Margo also hoped that Sheila still remembered the spells to either quench shadow warriors, or send them back to hell from where they had been called from. She knew that Tempest had taught the latter most of the things she had known. She only hoped now that her friend would remember the spell, word for word. If not, how would they fight?

Each of us fought fiercely, our spells weaving intricate patterns of defense and attack. I could feel the raw energy coursing through me, the power of my eternal wolf stirring within, ready to leap into action. The witches beside me chanted their incantations, their voices rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence that was both haunting and beautiful. Their magic clashed with the dark witches, creating a storm of energy that crackled through the air.

Her eyes narrowed as she observed Seraphina’s intent focus. The scrolls in question contained spells for elemental magic, the kind that most witches learned in their early years of training. They were basic, elemental spells—fire, water, earth, and air. Spells that were fundamental, taught to all witches as part of their foundational education. Nothing particularly unusual or incriminating. Isolde’s brow furrowed as she continued to watch Seraphina. It was clear that her suspicions had shifted from Seraphina being a potential saboteur. She was, it seemed, just another witch going about her magical studies.

those spells always came at a cost. "Give me your hand," the witch said, and I did so without hesitation. She pulled out a blade and pressed it into my skin till it broke and drew blood, then she collected the blood in a small bowl. "She will be fine. Do not worry." The woman mixed a bunch of other things together, and then she brought put a big old book with faded and tattered looking pages. and she began chanting something. I couldn't care less as long as nothing happened to Eva.

He bobbed his head in affirmation at my trembling words. The witches interlaced their talisman around their wrist and gripped their arms as they chanted helplessly, drawing from the old ancestral power that tethered them to their magic. I healed from the blade injury, and my blood that had spilled on the floor rose in sync with the words that escaped their lips. A rogue wind blew through the open windows, sending the purple curtains into the air and extinguishing the candles’ flames. My eyes stilled in the void as I could feel the tremendous amount of power flowing through the room. The candle lights soon regained their golden glow as the witches didn't relent on the spell, growing longer at

She was fire, fury, vengeance incarnate. And across from her, stood the remaining witches. Hooded figures with glowing runes beneath their feet and magic seeping from their fingertips. Their leader—the elder who had restrained Dominic—stepped forward. “You’ve brought chaos,” she hissed. “This was never your destiny to take.” “No,” Olivia answered, voice distorted by the phoenix’s resonance. “It was yours to manipulate. Mine to reclaim.” Without warning, the witches struck. A flurry of spells erupted through the air—shards of obsidian, binding incantations, elemental curses. One witch hurled a gust of poisoned wind, while another carved through the earth itself, sending jagged roots to trap O

"I'll have the lawyers handle it." "Thank you." I picked up my fork. I did not look at my mother, she looked at me anyway. Always trying to find out something through my eyes. .. ..…….. I waited until the house went quiet. Midnight. I lit the candles myself. Three white, one black, positioned at the cardinal points the way my grandmother's notes specified. I had done dozens of spells in this room. Revelation rites were minor, they confirmed what was already true. That was what I told myself.

And before I am the Weeping Woman, crying. "I'm so sorry," she dropped to the floor and cried. "I just…I just wanted my Tomas back. I want Tomas back." Viola weeps. I sighed and looked at Zayn, who reached inside his cloak and handed me a chalk. I went to an empty wall and drew a rectangular door and characters representing runes. I placed my hand on the wall and closed my eyes as I spoke the ancient tongue of the witches before me. A warm, tingling feeling against my hand meant the magic was a success.