The Age Of Witches Novels & Stories

Lord Robert snorted. “ Now we have received news that they are kidnapping young female witches between the ages of nineteen and twenty- five. All of them with red hair” said Damian. “ We thought at the beginning that the killings of wolves were related to the witches but now we know it is not” said alpha Israel. “And how do you know that it is not related to them?” asked lord Robert. “The witches have been hiding for years because they are being persecuted. Do you really think they will be willing to risk their lives and offend the wolves?” asked alpha Kendrick. He had been silent since the meeting began.

Everett hummed, ‘There are rumours that there is a witch living in the forest, in a cottage similar to yours, but closer to the borders of our pack. She is apparently so strong that she has the power to keep herself concealed from all of us. The people of the pack say she was one of the greatest witches to help keep the pack safe, but then suddenly, one day, she decided to hide away from us.’ I swallowed the lump in my throat, my voice almost monotone, ‘Let me guess, this happened around 18 years ago.’

When you start using magic for ill intentions you can become a dark witch or wizard and it’s very hard to turn back. Elder Wynn goes on about our roots in the magical world and how our town was founded by his father’s father’s father’s father back in the late 1600s when witches were hunted and burned at the stake. We made an alliance with the werewolves to live peacefully without persecution from the human world. The problem is we haven’t changed anything since then it’s as if the entire council is still living in the 17th century.

“The coven witches can bring more clarity to our situation.” “So this Reaper is out to steal Frey's magic?” I stuttered, trying to connect dots. Witch language even makes this more difficult. “Yes, and we have to help Frey.” “You knew this was a danger to my mate, and you didn't say a word to me!” I growled, and my irises gained their crimson glow. “Don’t blame this on me, Logan. I didn't know she was a witch! Witches come into their power at the age of 14. Frey is 22 for fuck's sakes.”

Fortunately, this child was born deep in the forest, in the glade of the fairies. The fairies have long been friends of peace and so they do all they can to help both wolves and witches alike, the magic they have cast on the child would make it impossible for anyone to know her true heritage, thus keeping her safe until she turns eighteen. When she turns eighteen and her powers have been fully activated, there is almost no spell that can keep her bound, but the fairies expect her to be strong enough to defend herself by then. That is not an issue because her father intends to start her training right away and her mother hopes that her daughter would be able to learn witchcraft.

A loud wail escaped her lips hitting her chest as if it will stop the piercing bullet wrenching pain she felt right now. "Tw-two hundred and tw-twenty three years old. Wh-why d...?" The room started spinning. She heard distant shouts, screams and voices calling her name but only one thing came across her mind before she lost consciousness. I'm a 223 year old witch.

“Your mother and your grandmother both were witches. Your mother was the most powerful witch. She belonged to the coven that dictated all laws for other covens. When your mother and I met and eventually fell in love. Her coven tried to forbid it. We ignored them. Witches always thought demons were the scum of the world. And. Yes. Some I agree are scum of the word, but I myself believe I am more sophisticated than that. Your mother thought so.” Vastria listened intently as her father explained what he could. She was starting to understand her treatment with her grandmother. Her father continued, “After we were married, and your mother was pregnant. The witches became infuriated. It seemed the

“Grandmother, stop don’t hurt him… Please… He’s… He’s my…” Two arms wrap around my waist as I run past, pulling me to a stop and effectively forcing what was left of my breath from my lungs. I then hear my warlock say, “High Priestess, you have been holding out. You know the laws. You are supposed to present all coming-of-age witches to the council.” “You know that the coming of age isn’t until they are 18…” He looks up at me and his eyes flash, making everyone but my Grandmother gasps, As our eyes lock, I am once again drawn to him, and he then continues to address my Grandmother.

I tell her. She tightens. “Well, nothing is exciting about my life story. After years of study, I thought I would go out into the wide world for some fun before settling down. I hope to find a well-paid job when I'm ready and, of course, a handsome husband later on." As she tells me the trite tale, she sips a glass of white wine. “Hmmm, so you're around twenty years old now”, I ask somewhat skeptically. Actually, her face is ageless, which is typical for witches. They stop aging around the age of twenty-five.

The witches gathered are mostly old and weathered, but much like Araminta, dress as fashionable and youthful as someone half their age, wearing the mantle of their power and age with effortless ease. They are all so ridiculously powerful, that they see no need to show it off. That alone tells me that most of them were alive for the very first witch wars over a century ago. There are a few other faces in the crowd, younger faces much like my own. Like me, they all look exhausted, including a smiling blond witch who winks at me from across the room. I've never been drawn to another male, but he's so strikingly handsome that I feel my cheeks burning red under his playful gaze.