Wicked Novels & Stories

"Bullshit. I'm not twelve, Sierra. I'm giving you one more chance." So much for trying. My head dipped low, and I drew a shaky breath as I lifted it up. "I'm sorry." Scarlett's brows rose, and for a split second her mouth opened; she clearly didn't believe me. "I thought you were better. You know the rules; the Vixens are exclusive. We do not sleep with customers, not even if they're VIPs." Lifting my head up, I protested. "It was one kiss; I've not been sleeping with Dante."

I groaned in pain and tried to sit up. “You are not the woman I fell in love with. You are the ugly ass Darcy, the one who lied to me and took advantage of me for her own gain. The one who disgusts every fiber of my soul. You can never be Tessa, not to me, not after everything I know. Tessa has never been real, Tessa was born on lies, I refuse to be a part of it. And you know what? It's a good thing you miscarried. I can't imagine anything tying me to you! So before I kill you with my bare hands, stay away from me while I think of what to do with this mess you've created”

“Found you, ” I whispered. Beneath it, my mother had written: The Witches of Virelyn. I swallowed and kept reading. They were an ancient coven. Power-hungry and dangerous that sold their magic to powerful packs in exchange for protection and influence. They specialized in dark magic. Not reckless chaos, but controlled corruption. Enhancements. Manipulation. Control. Anything. My fingers trembled as I turned the page. They were wiped out after a spell meant to bind wolves permanently to feral instincts went wrong. No

And the word murder that came out of Nichole's mouth was scary enough to hear. "Did you watch The Walking Dead again and have a bad dream?" Patricia asked making sure that what Nichole said was not true. Nichole now shook his head and it was clear that the girl's face had turned angry. How could it not be, Nichole West had been convincing Patricia that what she had just heard was the truth. However, Patricia's response really annoyed her.

The grand high witch was neither good nor evil. Yes, Wanda was a murderer who could kill hundreds with a snap of her fingers. During the witch hunts, thousands of hunters were slain by her and used to fuel her army of magical monsters. Wanda’s power grew from the greed of humans, and her power source came from an incubus. It was only natural for her to run a sex toy company after globalisation.

If you’re below eighteen, you should not read these books as they feature a lot of violence, gore and sex. If you’re a fan of fantasy series with werewolves, demons, vampires, witches, gods and whatnot, you can read THE WICKED GAMES, which is the first in the series called The Spirileaxus Saga. Unfortunately, none of the books in this series is standalone, so you have to read them in chronological order. You can also go for CURSED BLESSINGS. Again, this is book one in the series The Blessed Ones.

He saw his wife playing with her sullen face. "Don't you want to play with her?" Alex asked. "Her? Who?" "Susan. Making her feel what you felt before is a fun game, baby. You should try it." Alex started to incite his innocent wife. "Like what? Everything they did is so evil. Grandma said people like them will be punished by karma." Aria felt like there was a hard stone in her throat if she talked about Susan, Jasmine, or her father. "There's no need to wait for Karma. It's too long and boring. You will be the one that created the Karma."

They waited for almost a minute but the water didn't change colour at all, she bit her lips together. As she knows, the academy has five types of houses. It depends on what power you contain, if blue then you have water, red for fire, gold for ground, and white for air. And yellow for being normal, that you don't have any powers at all. Instead of feeling down she's happy, she's really happy! That she's normal, she heard the discrimination about between the being ordinary but she doesn't care at all.

He turned back to Jade. “Can Willa disguise herself to look like anyone?” He asked her. She laughed with actual humor; it annoyed me at how much fun she was having with this. “Of course, she can; she’s the Witch of Trickery. It’s in her nature,” Jade answered. “Even a werewolf? Scent and all?” Jonathan asked again. “Yes. She can disguise herself so well, you’d never be able to tell I was her. Especially based on scent,” Jade explained. “She’s the Witch of Trickery,” she repeated.

Hakkon and Aslaugh Apollo’s Wolves - Murder, cold, written like fingernails that splintered off under weirwood, through fairy stones, see witch's mark. Only a deal with the Devil speaks truth. Death's gall she wrote, death's sword she spoke. And the haints were close, and the bells closed in, and that wicked pianoman with his smuggler's fingers plinked out a melody like a shatterglass rain of pain. Wicked is she who writes, wicked is she who speaks. He would have her tongue cut out and mouth sewn with filth.