The Unmarked Witch Novels & Stories

Igor: “ You really are a sorceress! Kataleya smiled and looked away. Igor with a smile: “ You look beautiful, when you're embarrassed... Kataleya: “ You, you could have died trying to protect me... Igor looked at her and took her hands: “ I know... Kataleya, emotional: “ No one has ever done this for me! When Igor took his hands, he saw the marks in the shape of eyes. Kataleya tried to let go but he grabbed her tightly and stared. She closed her hands and looked at him. Igor: “ What brands are these? Kataleya: “ It doesn't matter... Igor: “ For me it has… Kataleya: “ I have had it since I was born… Igor: “ They’re beautiful! Kataleya: “ Not everyone thinks the same way! I still remember that

But as I look at him harder, squinting my eyes while inching toward the mirror just a tad, I see that my claiming mark is gone. How the FUCK did that happen? DAMMIT!! Very, very few things, whether it be creatures or circumstances, can remove a witch’s mark from the skin of her claimed. Not much except… oh shit… wait… Who is this woman? I direct my focus on her as she begins to ride my man. I try not to focus on his betrayal, but instead on this female stranger I’ve never seen before. But she does look vaguely familiar. Is she the reason I haven’t been able to find Josh in the last few weeks? Is she a witch?

She sighed, then glanced to the left, where another portrait was hanging on the wall. In this portrait, a woman stood there. Her left hand raised in the air at an angle. And her right seemed to hold a book. On her head she wore a hat, which had a point at the top. Her head was tilted to the left, where you could only see the left side of her face. And her hair was a dark brown, that looked like it flowed endlessly behind her. There were colorful colors that could be seen over her left hand, as if portraying something. Blues, greens, purples, and pinks colliding together at the top forming a colorful ball above the streaks underneath. On the tree to the right, a broom lay against it, with a c

"If you can't come up, I can come down." Katrina stares at her. "What?" Katrina smiles, "I used to wonder the kind of wolf that would be the king's mate. Since he hadn't found his mate, we all figured she wasn't going to be from Eldrida. To be honest, there were rumours that he was cursed or destined to be without a mate. But then, I used to think, what would her personality be like? Would she be one of the werewolves that think witches are beneath them? Trust me, there are few of those. So I'm just glad that you happen to be a witch as well, that means we're safe. I didn't ever imagine that you'd be so cool though, you're the perfect mate for the king."

Devin says. Marcus lets out a strangled laugh. “No. Marking for a witch is very different from marking for a wolf. When a witch marks someone, they are using their life force to protect them. A mark appears on the protected witch’s forearm and will remain there for the rest of their lives, as will the protection. It’s one of the few things that the Harry Potter series got right about witches, when Harry got his lightning bolt scar from his mom sacrificing herself to save him. It can only be done when the marker loves the one they are protecting dearly and is typically only used in life and death situations because it will kill the marker the first time the protection is used.”

My uncle went backwards a little and stared at me. "That marks mean. You are not one of the blue pack. You have been cursed and will forever murder your family until the end of your life. You have been marked, by a demon wolf, our sworn enemy. We are no longer safe. And its because of you witch. We will never make peace with those butchers." My uncle said as he drew more closer too me.

The witches, with their ancient knowledge and mystical powers, prepared to perform the rites that would free me from the bonds that tethered me to Lucius. The lead witch, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light, approached me with purpose. Her hands moved deftly, tracing intricate patterns in the air as she began the ritual to remove the mark that Lucius had branded upon my skin. I gritted my teeth against the pain, feeling the searing heat of the magic as it worked its way through my body.

he whispered again, his tone shaking, “do you remember your father’s message? The one about the Alpha Seal… being with Witch Ana? He called her your mother’s younger sister.” The memory slammed into her chest like a blow. “Yes,” she whispered, her heart hammering. Then louder, as if the truth was branding itself into her soul: “Yes. I remember.” Her voice broke into silence, heavy with finality. “It's like I'm a witch, but then,” she whispered. "Why don't I have the scent of a witch?" Suddenly, the witch stepped closer. With a swift motion, she touched Raina’s neck, and the mark seemed to lift, glowing faintly before sinking back into her skin. In that moment, Raina’s scent shifted, no longe

Seducing men from other clans, mostly werewolves, was one of the desperate measures they had taken. But the wolves eventually retaliated. The witches were hunted, driven out, weakened. Scattered across the realm like dust. Rumor had it that only one family survived with true witch blood untarnished. A family who had somehow escaped the curse, though no one knew how. Until now. “What do you want?” I finally asked, my voice low, guarded. “I want to help you,” she replied. “To make you the version of yourself you were meant to be.” I burst into laughter, loud, sharp, almost hysterical. The idea was ridiculous. Completely insane. But the second I looked at her face again, so serious, so unblinki

A woman with my mark standing alone against an army. The first hybrid. The Bridge. Her final scream echoed through my skull. I dropped to one knee. The witch's voice reached me through the calamity. "They erased your people." Another vision came. Children running. Shrines burning. Names forgotten. History buried. "They feared what could unite them." The elderly witch continued. The mark pulsed violently. Pain was through every nerve in my body. Then something inside me answered. Not rage. Not destruction. Something older. Silver light came forth from beneath my skin.