The Worst Witch Novels & Stories

Gail closed her bedroom door and leaned against it. Despite her best attempts, the guilt flooded her. The witches had all but declared war on the werewolves. Worse yet, it seemed they were winning. Gail had no doubts that the coven controlling all werewolves in the area, or possibly the country, wasn’t a good thing. But what could she do about it? She took down the box from the closet with the idea to toss the charm in there, but when she saw the pictures, she hesitated. Gail plopped down on the bed next to the box. She picked up one photograph.

Destiny works in strange ways, the witches and the wolves have been enemies for a long time, neither cross each other's boundaries and it is highly forbidden to ever mate with each other. Over the years, witches have been mated to wolves, but once the council finds out, they cast a spell to sever the bond immediately. The spell works, but the victim's life changes completely and he or she becomes an outcast, the spell also weakens his or her original powers causing such a person to become weak.

It works because of the way the brain is wired with words and images. Ursula, who is believed to be the only witch existing believes that power and authority are only for witches. She had been banished a thousand of years before because she had tried to poison the Summer King whom is no more alive. For thousands of years she hid in the forest, seeking her dark revenge.

I wonder as I try to pull away again but to no avail. "I'm sorry. "I whisper before saying the incantation that releases his hand and throws him across the lawn; he hits the grass as I run to the door, another growl sounding out, but this time no screams follow. I twist the handle frantically. Mom, grandma, where are you? The door is closed, and it does not budge. I step back, take a deep breath, and whisper another spell to open the door, but it repels, striking me; I stumble back before regaining my footing. That is right because all werewolves have their witches who protect them. I grunt, feeling the side effects of the repelled spell. The growl sounds again as I start pounding on the doo

asked the man with the blue hair at night. "Maybe," ⚛⚛⚛ "Phew I didn't think the star road was that far," Leo complained. "I told you we got on the bikes earlier," "Hey! I don't know! Who said on maps too short!" Maybe now Aza's ears will be buzzing when he hears the chirp from Leo who doesn't stop. "Ok, where is the house?" Leo asked. "I'll open the book for a bit ... my God! Maroon, Green and Brown cube witches are gathered nearby!" exclaimed Aza excitedly.

The adult werewolves chattered amongst themselves, some in groups and others in pairs. I should have felt sheer unbridled abhorrence towards them for everything they had put me through. 5 years of name calling and unwarranted scornful insults, I stood on the raised podium, as their Luna. Following the threat from the alpha leader, they had no choice but to submit to the very witch they apparently loathed.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER JEFF POV These past eight months have been grueling and the most challenging I’ve ever had to deal with. No vampire attacks had happened but for some reason wolves kept coming up missing. Not just from our pack either. It was happening to packs across the country. Rumors of some turning up weeks later, only to attack their own pack as a rabid. My Beta was searching high and low for a witch that would help us. The issue was no witch wanted to help. They all refused either out of fear of the Vampire King or the fear of using black magic and losing their powers all together. I sat at my desk as I contemplated what to do next. Suddenly my wolf Alec perked up and started runnin

Max threw her hands up in the air and yelled out of frustration. I wasn't fond of times like this. When her anger flared, it could last for hours and sometimes days. So, I answered her question about what lay next to the church. "The graveyard." Max turned in her seat. She faced me. With a bladed hand, she exaggerated each word with a chop. "Witches—Died—There!" And that doesn't bother you?" "Of course, it bothers me, sweetheart. But, that's why we have to do it.”

she said, not meeting the eyes of her mother. Mrs. France sighed and laid the plat of cookies on Lizzie’s bed. “I know you’re still hurt because of the way I am treating your best friends,” she started. “But I want you to know I am not the villain here. I am only following the great witch’s order.” “You have been saying that,” Lizzie said. “Who is the great witch and why do you have to follow her order?” “She is the most powerful witch that ever lived. She was one of the witches behind the creation of the werewolves and the vampires.”

Even if she had wanted to, Merlin doubted that she could speak, as the tale Aunt May told her stunned her into silence. The Cottard witches were the oldest and most powerful of the witches in the bayou, their history and heritage filled with secrets and legends, that were passed down through the generations. One such legend told of a witch, born to each generation, who had the power to control all the elements of nature, unlike most witches, who can only manipulate one. There were signs that accompanied the birth of the witch, but her full potential would lay dormant through adolescence until her innocence was taken, thus awakening her dormant powers.