White Trash Warlock Novels & Stories

He didn’t stick his hand back through with his middle finger upraised, but he might as well have. “Well, that’s just fucking great,” Ian said. “We need someone with magic to deal with the damn shaman.” Pressure boiled up in me until I thought steam had to be whistling out of my ears. I lunged forward and grabbed Ian by his shirt with both fists, dragging him down until his startled face was on a level with mine. “What the fuck do you think I am, Ian?” I gritted out. “I’m a warlock. I have magic, dumbfuck. And you. Do not. Own me. Are we clear?” I gave him a shake, not that it moved him much. The point got across, though. “If I’m part of this pack, I’m going to pull my weight, and that makes

The flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows across their grim faces. “This is not a conventional enemy,” Elias rasped. The old lore-keeper dragged a wrinkled finger over the map, tracing a line from the dead rogue camp toward the eastern mountains. “A Flesh-Thief requires a single host. A warlock needs time to cast a spell of that magnitude. To kill three hundred wolves in a single heartbeat requires ancient, catastrophic power.” “Can it be killed?” Torin demanded, his tactical mind searching for a physical target. “If it bleeds, we can put a silver blade through its heart.”

If she didn't, she had to chase after them. He'd never told her why he loved that game. Vera is a White Wolf. A noble White Wolf, one that appears maybe once every few centuries. Even as the Alpha heir, everyone said he was the one marrying up. He was afraid that one day, she'd stop orbiting around him. Every time he saw her catch up, that was when he felt safe. Back when the pack applications were open, Vera changed her application seven times. He'd stood there watching, and all he felt was contentment. Vera still cared about him that much. But he hadn't even asked where she'd applied in the end.

“Release me?” He nodded and suddenly I had control over my body again. Still clutching my shampoo like a lifeline, I tried to hug myself. I probably looked like a lunatic. “It’s far more likely,” I replied sharply. “That you will steal some next time you’re out. What did I say about stealing things Jake?” Jake shrugged one massive shoulder. As one of the most powerful warlocks on the earth. Jake took whatever he wanted. All it took was a well-placed spell and someone would be willing to sign away their life savings to him.

The blood of Radenorian kings didn’t want to disappear in the demonic blood, which is why I have two gifts, why I look like my mother’s twin, why the ancestral palace can acknowledge me. “Did Ritanna Andago die of natural causes?” “For that, you can thank the blonde bitch that her father married,” the ghost replied, almost spitting. “Warlock blood...” Now that was interesting. There are various kinds of spell-casters in the world. Mages possess elemental powers; witches know the earth; and then, there are warlocks: those who were born with no power at all, but wanted it so much that it hurt. And those idiots summoned demons and made deals with them, giving them their souls and access to this

“Why do you always think that when the Council wants a Magickal brought to them, he’s going to get punished?” “He isn’t? It must be something about his blood, then. He’s an unregistered Magickal?” “Well, that’s the clincher, really. That’s why we specifically need you for this assignment. He’s a warlock and he has no idea, and he lives a Mundane as much as we know of, who manages to make himself a billionaire therefore he can afford to live outside of the grid.” I snort. “You’re kidding me. That’s like a made-up story.”

I must have been gaping for God knows how long, because he suddenly cleared his throat, snapping me out of my "trance" "Did you even hear a word of what I said?" He dramatically sighed and face palmed. I stood up from my crouching position and blinked twice, getting into my fighting stance. He merely turned his back to me, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "My name is Okiro. A warlock of the five white clans of Duna. An endangered specie and the one of the last of my kind... thanks to your father's good work." What the fuck now? I'm pretty sure my eyes were as big as saucers now.

The fall of the Winter Moon pack angered Agnar and that's when he began making moves to take the throne. He now was Alpha to the largest known pack. He began taking in warriors from the packs that did not have Alpha’s any longer. He ensured they pledged loyalty and if there was the slightest bit of questioning it he killed them. There was no room in this world for weakness and uncertainty. He wandered over the river bank, he had always found water relaxing and calming. He found himself staring down into watching the rapid current make small waves over the river rocks. Soon hopefully all this will be over. Alpha Derek was the only real threat these days. He had sent scouts to see if it was D

"He doesn't want you to be locked away, he just wants you to be protected. That is all. Once we know who we can trust, it will be easier." "The man in that photo?" I asked and he sighed. "He is a warlock," he said. "He is one of the King of Witches and Warlocks Advisors. We are looking into it." I nodded as the smell of strawberries and watermelons filled my senses. Hela whimpered. "Mate." Came a deep voice startling both of us. Alpha Grant Doyle's POV

"Then I must heed Pyat Pree, and go to the warlocks." The merchant prince sat up sharply. "Pyat Pree has blue lips, and it is truly said that blue lips speak only lies. Heed the wisdom of one who loves you. Warlocks are bitter creatures who eat dust and drink of shadows. They will give you naught. They have naught to give." "I would not need to seek sorcerous help if my friend Xaro Xhoan Daxos would give me what I ask."