The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe Novels & Stories

Green as spring and just as wild. My chest constricts. My pulse hammers. The wolf inside me prowls, restless and snarling for release. Ours. The word rips through me, raw and fierce like a growl. I grit my teeth, fighting to keep the beast inside. No. No, no, no. She can’t be here. This palace is meant for the powerful: royalty, lords, and chosen delegates. So why is a witch like her striding beside the High Witch herself?

Whole villages apparently had that ability and when danger presented itself they shifted into their wolf shape, gathered as a pack and disappeared. The first thing that caught her attention was the extensive family chart at the very beginning of the book. Labeled Pack Diagram, it listed all the human form names of what she assumed was an entire pack. What on earth could this have to do with her grandparents? Did they study this? Surely they weren't - No. She gave herself a mental slap. That was just too wacky to even contemplate. She was letting her imagination run away with her. The legends fascinated her from the moment she opened the volume, especially those chapters about werewolf shifte

She struggled slightly to get in and looked up at me somewhat embarrassed. “Short people problems”, she laughed shyly and shrugged her shoulders The moment she got in I got hit with the most intoxicating smell. It smelled like cinnamon and sugar mixed with something floral that I couldn’t quite recognize. Ajax started pacing in my head practically salivating over this girl we didn’t even know, who wasn’t even a werewolf, but a witch! What was his deal? “So Sierra, is it? Your dad tells me you’re in your senior year! That’s exciting”, my dad said breaking me from my own thoughts.

Maybe now was the time to leave anyway. "Father he has nowhere to go," Matilda spoke as Nicklaus took a step to leave. "That's none of our business," Anders said coldly. "But he is a witch and you always say to help fellow witches." Matilda argued. "We don't know for sure that he is a witch. Matlida, the royalties of this Kingdom are werewolf?" "Yes, he is a werewolf but he is also a witch father." Matlida spoke. "he… she hesitated.

Tonight I can't help it cause my eyelids are getting heavy; no matter how many times I try to keep my eyes open or how much coffee I drink, it still doesn't help, and I know soon I will fall asleep. Indeed I was right back in the middle of the field, wearing a long white dress. Looking around, all I saw were green trees everywhere. There was nowhere for me to go, and not long before, the big black wolf emerged from behind me, limping like he always is, and ran towards me.

I crashed through the bedroom door, a snarl ripping from my throat that shook the windows in their frames. In the center of the room, standing over the bed where the triplets were huddled, were two figures. One was a warrior of the Iron Fang, his face painted with the red clay of a blood feud, a silver dagger held tight in his hand. Beside him stood a woman draped in tattered black silk, her eyes glowing with a sickly, iridescent light. The witch. "A white wolf," the witch whispered, her voice sounding like dry leaves skittering across a grave. "The legends did not mention she was a mother. Such a pity to end a bloodline so soon."

They all looked so… hopeful of her. She tucked the precious flowers into her dress pocket, vowing to keep them as treasure. Somehow, it warmed her chest. ///// Inside the castle gate, Maya’s eyes roamed to every corner possible. It was true that the Werewolf Kingdom was not as lavish as Aurellia. Instead of marbled floors and gold crystal chandeliers, there were obsidian walls, exotic wooden furniture, and … a huge fig tree at the center of the capital.

Both the lizardmen tribes relied on claws and teeth, and the jabberwocky just ate you whole. “A couple of archers and we could wipe them all out.” “Yes,” I said, “but unfortunately our best shot is down there like Aslan about to get a haircut.” Maurice screwed up his nose. “Please don’t mention that hack in my presence.” There are any number of writers you might dismiss as hacks, churning out shitty novels one after the other, but I wouldn’t have put children’s favourite C.S. Lewis among them. “I thought you would’ve liked Lion-Witch-Wardrobe.”

“Good job princess.” I looked around seeing others walking into the woods. One man, a tall slim man dressed all in a black robe was burning something in the fire. The smell seemed to be white. I don’t know why white was the word that first came to me, maybe pure. I looked up at Nikko, “Is he a witch?” Nikko looked down at me, “a warlock maybe. I don’t think he would take kindly to you calling him a witch.” He arched his brow, “why Samantha are you a witch?”

The guards shifted in a split second letting their clothing fall to tatters on the ground around their paws. Little by little I watched as the door began to dent inwards, warping in shape. It looked like a fist slowly pounding it in the same area trying to make it give out. The wolves in front us started a chorus of growling, their fur standing on end and tongues out licking their teeth the more the metal bent in. If it had been somebody on our side of the fight they would definitely not be trying to reach us in such a manner. The witch next to me rose up getting in a fighting stance, letting her skin start to blaze as flames licked the skin of her fingers looking like swirls.