Wicked Witch Novels & Stories

"Are you out of your mind?" Lukas asks her, "you want us to use Sarah as bait? You've got to be joking." "So what do you want us to use as bait? The bait has to be something the hunted wants. If we want to catch an animal, we have to give it what it wants. She wants Sarah, we give her Sarah. We'll have witches and," she says with emphasis when Lukas wants to interrupt, "werewolves to protect her. I'd go a million times if I could, but my going would be useless," Katrina returns.

The festival had reaffirmed her commitment to the people and served as a catalyst for positive change. Lady Victoria, with her unwavering dedication and wisdom, continued to be a guiding force. Her role extended beyond the borders of the kingdom, as her reputation as a wise witch and counselor spread far and wide. She used her knowledge and influence to foster peace and understanding among werewolf kingdoms, mediating conflicts and offering guidance in times of need. Her actions were a testament to the positive use of witchcraft and its potential to bring about transformative change.

Together, they pushed through the throng of werewolves, vampires, and hybrids until they made it to where a witch was casting spell after spell. "You. Get this off her. Now." The witch—a tall, dark-skinned, and curly-haired woman—opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at Maverick. "What?" Cinnia scrutinized the witch from head to toe, trying to find out if she knew her but when she came up with nothing, she put on a bright smile and shouldered Maverick out of the way just as the witch released a bolt of magic right behind her. Cinnia craned her neck to look and saw the smoking body of a vampire on the ground a mere distance from where she stood. "Thanks." She blew out a breath and then contin

Ilyra explained, her voice gentle but firm as she held the old woman’s hand. "The Nexus? You're both fools if you think you can just walk into the center of the marsh and take what you want, because the path is guarded by the Drowned Witches now," Hestia said, and she looked up at me with a grim, knowing smile that chilled me to the marrow. "They are the spirits of the women your pack threw into the black pools during the raids, and they’ve spent the last twenty years waiting for a Rauvenhollow wolf to come back so they can pull him down into the silt and keep him there forever."

I had complete faith in her. "Oh, I used to be a ballerina." I heard her tell Betty one night after work. "Ballerina?" Betty asked. "Like the Swan cracker?" "It's actually Swan Lake and The Nutcracker," Sierra corrected. "Whatever," Betty replied. "The club is much better." "If you count the walking STDs," Sierra muttered. The hairbrush in my hand flew past them, clattering against the wall. Both turned to me, filled with shock. I glared hard at Sierra.

She’d come and leave as she pleased, and they’d be none the wiser. Perhaps, if she were any other witch, she’d be none the wiser too. But she isn’t any other witch. The Silver Witch of the North, also called the Ice Witch due to her love for cold regions, did not get to her position by being like every other witch. She is anything but normal.

The magic that she had happily used to help Rigel conquer and destroy innocent packs, thinking it would make him love her and treat her like she was worth something to him. Once upon a time, Helena had despised her magic and saw it as a curse. Being born as a werewolf who did not get a wolf form on her twelfth birthday, had made her an anomaly and her ability to do magic had made her even stranger, causing her to isolate herself from others. Her family and pack had been supportive and kind, pushing when she pulled away from them and creating ways to ensure she could be involved in everything but it was never enough. Her Father and Brother could turn into majestic beasts that ran as fast as t

Old Shit Witch sighed, shaking her head. “Right, cause I’m going to buy that. Where are the red heels that will take me home if you’re supposed to be Glinda the Good Witch of the North? And if you’re the Good Witch, were those playing cards your henchmen? Cause if they are fuck you. Shit Witch didn’t have anyone stab my dick.” I glared at this supposed Glinda as I got to my feet.

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.

“Please—you don’t know—” The warden halted just long enough to glare at me, his grip biting harder into my shoulder. “Criminals like you have no business with the Queen. You’ll be thrown into the prison below, where you belong.” “No—you must believe me! The witches have returned!” The words rang out too loudly, scattering birds from their branches. The forest seemed to recoil from the name. The warden’s face twisted in fury. “Silence! Speak that word again, and you’ll hang before the castle walls.”