Taglock Witchcraft Novels & Stories

That tattoo proves it then, my beast is a gift and it was given to me because of this prophecy. 'Actually Tamara I have quite an explanation for that however far fetched it might seem. ' Ryker beckoned me to have a sit. 'Which is? ' 'An alliance between the goddess and your witch ancestors, to work together to help us defeat Addanc. ' That made a lot of sense but still brought up many questions. 'But why would the goddess wish to destroy a wizard? Anyway this whole thing doesn't matter right now. ' I sat beside him, leaning on the side of his shoulder.

The street was narrow and old, cobblestones still visible beneath the tarmac at the edges, trees lining both sides and meeting overhead. "Twelve years ago," I said, "a witch from the Aldercroft Coven was fated to a wolf from the Cassin Pack. Southern territory. No previous alliance between the two families. The witch's name was Maren. She was young—late twenties—and, from what Rave described, she wasn't unlike you. Contained. Capable. Deeply invested in not being perceived as someone things happened to." Isabella said nothing. But she was listening with her whole body.

“I can feel the residue. But it doesn’t carry a signature I recognize. No coven marking. No elemental trace. It’s like… it was woven differently.” My jaw tightened. “Can you remove it?” Silence. Then, quietly, “No.” The word settled between us like a stone. “What can you do?” I asked instead. She exhaled slowly. “I can ease the pain. Stabilize their wolves so they don’t fight against the block. But I cannot undo it.” “Why?” “Because this isn’t a curse meant to kill,” she said. “It’s a lock.” A lock. “And only the one who cast it can unlock it,” she added.

I vow to seek justice for all those who have lost loved ones to the Arcade pack and to Arnold. I picked up a piece of chalk and sketched circles on the ground, standing at the center as I whispered an incantation. I made sure to lock the door behind me and left a letter on the floor before proceeding with my intentions. I have a long journey ahead to find Lagartha; she’s had more than enough time. I warned her that I would end her life, and I meant every word. Lagartha I gazed into the void, fighting to keep my hope alive. Who would have guessed that Felicity was a witch? She even managed to unravel my magic, which I am now slowly reclaiming.

Beautiful. “She is a fucking elemental witch, among other things. Of course, she can open the portal, you brainless dickhead. Silver, corpse flower and wolfsbane in shackles were mixed, and spells were cast around her bed. These were the only things barely preventing her from using Lycan's abilities and the magic, and you took them off!!!” I roared each word between the smacks. I was thwacking his head repeatedly against the wall. His skull was unrecognisable. I was in sheer disbelief at his stupidity.

Now, she understood—they were healing. "So… no covens?" Rita asked weakly. Gogo’s laugh was sharp. "No. You must form one. But you must also be sure." She tapped Rita’s forehead. "Use this. Not just your heart." Over the next week, Gogo armed her in subtler ways: Herbs tied in muslin—imphepho for clarity, umhlonyane for protection, beaded bracelets woven with charms against compulsion and a thick Basotho blanket, its geometric patterns hiding older, deeper wards.

The seal used both gold and the silver-mark memory that lived in Claire's palms from the February healing — the residue of two forces having met in the same place, which she had been carrying for ten months and had only recently understood she was carrying deliberately. When threaded together and applied to a wolf's tissue, the combined frequency created an environment where partial possession could not take root. Not extracted — that was a different process. Sealed. Locked against entry the way a properly latched door was locked against wind. "The sensation is specific," her mother said, sitting across the clinic table with her hands flat in front of her. "For the person receiving it. I nee

Ivy trembled with rage. For the next few hours, the pack enforcers sealed off the entire cellar. After a preliminary investigation, the lead enforcer's face was grim. "This was no healing ritual." "This was the 'Life-Deprivation Hex,' a form of black magic strictly forbidden by the Pack Alliance. The practitioner has no medical license. She's a wanted rogue witch." Hearing this, my parents' eyes widened in shock. Ryker, however, just kept staring at my body, as if his soul had left him.

He had a murderous look in his eyes but the witch's denial is making him conflicted inside. “How do you explain the spell that borrowed his body and mind? How do you explain the sigil that led us here?” The witch raised trembling hands. “I… I swear I didn't.” Look there. ”She pointed to a corner near the storage door. “My cloak. Inside it, you will find the Lakeville coven sigil embroidered at the hem of it. My real coven real sigil… it has absolutely nothing to do with an interlocked circle…Just look.”

“I think she has something to do with this mess going on at teh pack.” “What makes you say that?” I sigh and turn from the window. “There was a necklace that was spelled. It was too familiar.” Witches have a signature of sorts. When we use magic, there’s a marker unique to each witch that points to us as the maker. I’m not completely sure what Chandra’s marker is, but this necklace exuded a familiar feel. I’d bet money that I don’t have that Chandra did it. So now the question is: who asked her to spell the necklace for the gold wolf? Does this have anything to do with Eddie’s son going missing years ago? “I’m going back in the morning. My gut is telling me that I will be needed there. You t