The Witch Novels & Stories

["What is the witch's name, by the way?" ["Well, she said it was Samantha!"] ["Samantha? I'll research anything about her with my mom. You know how freaking older she is, she should probably know something about this witch. Two questions about it: Does she agree with the Witch Queen? And how does she looks like?"] ["No, she doesn't agree with the queen, she hates her, just like me. And about her appearance, she has white and long straight hair, red eyes, full lips, white skin, a curved body, and is also taller than me."]

"This has got to be the one T-bone was talking about before we shot him... At least we got a name." Keegs lit up his phone and began thumbing through the screen. "Got it. Lasses Birgitta. A Swedish Witch that, apparently, tried to raise the dead in a churchyard by using the stole of a priest. She confessed that she sold her soul to the devil, renounced God and was beheaded. Sounds just like the woman you want to bring home to Mom... Well, I would anyway," Keegs grinned.

And as for Serina, she was only introduced into four of them — including her late master. Euphemia, the Witch of Vanity. She rose from the land of the Soil governed by the God of Humility. Helga, hailed as the Witch of Treachery was a native of the land of Thunder, dominated by the God of Pledge. Prima, who originated from the land of Nature, was later dubbed as the Witch of Greed — in contrast to their God's principle: Charity.

They said witches were all bad but do you know that their are two types of witches, the black witch and the white whitch. In the Canary village, lived a two sisters namely Freya and Marie. Both were beautiful and enchanting but they possessed an opposite traits from each other. Freya, known to be the black witch was very possessive, wicked, cruel and a pure evil but Marie, known to be the white witch was kind, loving, soft-hearted, and with a pure heart.

She busts out of the rope and rises to her feet. “Who told you could kill him? This body loves him.” “Master!!” The witch screams. I look over to see his hand on the ground, a clean cut. “Kill her.” “What about the plan?” “I don’t care about the plan; kill her now!” I grunt, unable to move as the witch turns to her. “You’ll pay for harming my master.” “And who’s going to make me pay. You?” Elina asks, amused. “Yes!!” She shouts before a strong gush of wind rush through the room, stirring everything. Her eyes turn black as she throws a spell across the room that Elina quickly neutralizes with the swipe of her hand.

Hot Chapters

His Witch, Her Alpha Love and FriendshipHis Witch, Her Alpha Chapter 53His Witch, Her Alpha Chapter 49

"And who might this person be whose past you want to dig out?" "The Witch of the Dark Forest. Rubisviel of the Orchid Butterfly Coven."

In the middle was herb garden, small glowing orbs floated around it as blue butterflies fluttered about happily. Gerwulf placed me at one of the tables and instructed me to remove my shirt. I carefully pulled my warm sweater off and awkwardly dangled my legs from the side. "A true witch is hard to kill. Hylda thought cutting her throat would do the trick, but nope," Gerwulf turned towards me with a small glass pot in his hand. He opened it and rubbed the salve onto the bite marks. "How do you kill a witch then?" "It's much more gruesome than that. You have to pierce the heart, separate the head, and burn the body. Otherwise they'll just heal. How fast depends on how much damage they take."

I cannot say. Victor looked at the infant in the swaddle, his face etched with hesitation and pity. "Is there truly no other way...?" Miriam, pinned down by the bodyguards, struggled violently. "Jules, do it! The ancestors will surely agree! I don't want you to die! We can have more children later. It won't matter if we can't find a witch then!" Julian looked at Miriam in disbelief. He felt as though the woman before him was a complete stranger.

“What rumors have reached your ears?” Mika's piercing blue eyes pinned me in place. “Oh, let me think.” His voice dripped with mockery. “How about the fact that you cursed an entire family because you were rejected by a lover? Or the fact that you turned countless people into toads with your witchcraft? And let's not forget the number of people you've inflicted with illness because they paid you to do it.” My jaw fell open. Like, actually open. Catherine Wells really was a witch. Not only that, she was a vile one at that.

And in the center, standing by the brazier, was the Witch. She was both less and more than the legend. She wasn’t a crone. She appeared as a woman perhaps in her middle years, with hair the color of ashes and snow, long and unbound. She wore a dress of simple, dark grey wool, but it seemed to drink the light. Her face was pale, sharp-featured, and utterly expressionless. But her eyes… her eyes were ancient. They were the color of a winter sky just before a storm, and they held a void, a depth that promised neither cruelty nor kindness, only an immense, indifferent power.