The Jealous Witch Novels & Stories

Julius began I snapping me out of my thought. My heart raced with anticipation. "Do you think it could provide us with the key to breaking the curse of the book? Perhaps there's a way to undo the dark magic that has been unleashed upon El." "There is a chance that the statue could hold the answers we seek." Julius looked at the statue with a mix of sadness and determination. "This statue holds a dark tale," she began, her voice filled with empathy. "Legend has it that long ago, there was a fierce conflict between werewolves and witches. The witches, fearing the power of the werewolves, devised a cunning spell that turned them into stone, effectively enslaving them." I knew of that story, but

, Dr Lesley interrupted, forcing their attention back to Merlin. Reluctantly, returning to the table, Juliette stood between Sébastien and Zeke, her eyes fixed on Merlin as she spoke in voice that was low but somehow loud in the quiet of the theater. "Everyone knows that a curse can only be broken by the witch who placed it so if the witch dies, the curse can never be broken. But some of the most powerful witches found a loophole, so instead of breaking the curse, they simply transferred it, but.....", she trailed off, glancing nervously at Zeke and Sébastien.

No doubt in my mind that she was guilty as they came. She was giggling stupidly with her friend while they pointed at me. I didn't understand the friendship between Monica and Mrs Kagwe. Unmated females hardly mixed with mated ones, unless of course they were family. The two weren't related at all, was there something I wasn't aware of? 'Damn, that was a nasty fall. ' Chef Ronald swore, rushing to my side. But before he could even help me up, Monica spoke. 'Are you seriously going to touch..(Monica pointed at me) that? ' Her voice held so much disgust. The hate she felt for me was indescribable, and for what? All because I was born a witch?

It was the brown haired one again, his eyes narrowed as he stared at me. Suddenly I smelt such a delicious scent that to sniffed him trying to see if it was from him, but it wasn't, I knew what this scent meant, and it scared me and delighted me as well, I was scared that he would reject me just like Alpha Rick did, and I was delighted to know the moon goddess gave me another mate.

Lancelot bowed in courtesy. The room was built with curcular walls, and a high roof. Seven tall pillars built with skull shaped stones were arranged in a straight line, demarcating the council of seven witches, from the throne of the King of Witches, Grand Master Ahab, and his first queen, Diana. To their left, was a silver haired elderly woman, she was the only one who was sitted on the floor, with her legs folded beneath her, and her eyes closed.

The magic that she had happily used to help Rigel conquer and destroy innocent packs, thinking it would make him love her and treat her like she was worth something to him. Once upon a time, Helena had despised her magic and saw it as a curse. Being born as a werewolf who did not get a wolf form on her twelfth birthday, had made her an anomaly and her ability to do magic had made her even stranger, causing her to isolate herself from others. Her family and pack had been supportive and kind, pushing when she pulled away from them and creating ways to ensure she could be involved in everything but it was never enough. Her Father and Brother could turn into majestic beasts that ran as fast as t

Still, he kept his ears open to listen on what she is saying. "Then the seven, were henceforth dubbed as 'Witches' as they received blessings from the Gods though the same manner." He was left at loss for words. Surely, he may be called ignorant of everything in relation to mystic arts, history and all, but this matter is — something he would rather choose not to believe to. "Your temperature level is declining, I can feel it. Got shivers down your spine, eh?" she teased, pulling him off the track he got lost into.

It’s exactly how he’d grabbed me in the woods. Holding me by my jaw. *** “What have you to say for yourself?” Mayor Marx asked him. “She’s possessed clearly.” Mathis drawled. “Look at her. She’s sweating, her pupils are dilated, she’s clearly been bespelled.” Me? Possessed! “Bespelled?” The mayor reared back. “That’s why she’s talking nonsense. A witch has cursed her. Willed her tongue to be their voice.” “Who would do such a thing!” The Mayor was now looking at me as though I were a sullied creature.

Ilyra explained, her voice gentle but firm as she held the old woman’s hand. "The Nexus? You're both fools if you think you can just walk into the center of the marsh and take what you want, because the path is guarded by the Drowned Witches now," Hestia said, and she looked up at me with a grim, knowing smile that chilled me to the marrow. "They are the spirits of the women your pack threw into the black pools during the raids, and they’ve spent the last twenty years waiting for a Rauvenhollow wolf to come back so they can pull him down into the silt and keep him there forever."

Stone, her mate, stood steadfastly by her side, his posture rigid and ever-vigilant, acting as an impenetrable shield for his new family. Ms. Polly stepped forward from the front of the crowd, her presence commanding an immediate, absolute silence. The elder witch wore a flowing gown of deep violet, her silver hair woven with tiny, glowing crystals that pulsed with an ethereal, ancient light. In her hands, she carried the sacred pack basin, filled with shimmering, silver-infused water that reflected the light of the April moon shining through the high glass ceiling.