Novel & Cerita The Witches Daughter

And if her daughter had disappeared without a trace, then it could only be the witches that had taken her. So they had finally come for Kyra after all these years. She could also be wrong and it wasn't the witches who had taken her daughter from her. After all, her daughter was mated to not one but three werewolves, all sons to an Alpha. They were sure to have enemies that would be capable of kidnapping their loved ones. "Only one way to find out, Lucy." She said to her reflection and took a deep breath. Perhaps it was time to return to the witches coven.

The night sky over the Witches’ Domain shimmered with a strange hue, a pulsating silver mist flowing through the air like magic itself was alive. The trees here whispered secrets to one another, and the wind carried more than just the scent of the earth—it carried memories, power, and bloodlines long thought extinguished. Salem, a high witch and cousin to the Queen, stepped out of the twilight portal that opened near the Obsidian Stones—a gateway reserved for the ancient bloodlines. Her long midnight-blue cloak trailed behind her, brushing the moss-covered stones as she descended the forested path toward the sacred hall.

The clock struck 11:30 PM, and it was time for the procession; all the witches in the coven were dressed in white. When they led Vespa out in a bridal gown, I broke down; she was struggling, trying to free herself from their grip. "Let go of me, you monsters!" she trembled. She had lost so much weight and looked like the shadow of her former self. They ignored her pleas and tried to calm her down with soothing words and false promises; one even had the guts to say she'd be happy and be the queen and have everything she wanted. I couldn't believe this was happening; they were taking my daughter away from me, away from the world she believed in. I tried to fight, but they kept blocking my way,

My brows reach my hairline in surprise, and I can feel myself blush, the heat from embarrassment coloring my cheeks. Reaching up, the little witch pulls her wolf's head down. Planting a kiss on the side of his cheek then lightly patting it. “Now, now, That’s not going to happen but…” She looks at me smiling, leaving what she was going to say hanging in the air. “We have not been properly introduced. I am Morgan Artos. The last witch of my line.” “Leneve. Daughter to Nyctimus. Cursed with dark magic.” I reply, not sure how the greeting exchange is meant to go.

The chain behind me extending to allow the motion. The woman floated towards me and stopped a few inches from me. I recognized her as a sorcerous not by her appearance, but rather her ora. She was dressed all in black with a cape covering most of her face. All I could see were her eyes, which were glowing green. "What is your name, witch?" She asked me. I refused to answer. I only glared at her. She came closer and grabbed me by my hair, forcing my eyes to hers she peered into them as if she were looking directly into my soul. She released me. "I see." She said. "Tell me Mandalynn are you with child?"

“Yes, because none would defy a sorcerer’s command. Perhaps a few were willing, but I assure you most were forced to do his bidding… and they lost their lives in the process.” “So, the witches obey the sons of Roja like a wolf does his Alpha…” I remark, blowing out a string of smoke, my eyes glimmering as I let the revelation sink in. “Then… is that the reason that you are hiding in fear? That I will command you to do my biddings?” “I already lost my daughter. I did not want to lose anyone else…” Her gaze flickers to the kitchen and I cock a brow. “Do you have more family?”

Werewolves have a keen sense of smell and are excellent trackers; that coupled with Council’s resources means we have zero chances of remaining hidden for too long. As we headed toward the kitchen tent, my gut twisted with a knot of fear as Tabah went on rambling, oblivious to my thoughts. I was only half-paying attention to what he was saying, something about his sister also being back. Sarah, his sister, had always been a rebel. The last I heard about her, she had gone off to discover Altair and other magical kingdoms on her own. She isn’t employed by either the pack or the Council. It has always been a mystery to me as to how she manages to fund her travels.

She howled, her green eyes blazing in so much anger. "Your people do not deserve any help from me and least before you forget" her eyes lessened but a frown overwhelmed her face, "Witches have nothing to do with humans. Your father classified us as evil, blood-sucking monsters,s and descendants of the devil!" She let out with so much rage, pain erupting from her eyes, "Your father insulted us, captured us, tortured us,and burned our body on a stake until we turned into ashes. He killed our children, sisters, brothers, and my mother!" Her eyes flickered not leaving him as memories came flooding as she remembered that fateful night her mother burned on a stake, her cries piercing her heart as

Faunteen simply stared at us. “Don't ever show up to my son. I cannot accept the child of a mistress for my child. If you hadn't seduced my daughter I wouldn't have done a background check on you, and I wouldn't have known that your mother was one of my husband's mistresses back then. I can't accept a low class like you near my daughter.”

WITCHES: THE RISING PLOT The era of witches is gone forgotten by all but a few who has lived through it. However, a teenage girl discovers her powers in an unexpected manner. With the unlike squad she has come to regard as family, what are the challenges they will face in a world predominantly governed by humans? Will they come out whole, alive, unscarred and unscathed? CHAPTER 1 PILOT Clara’s POV: