Witch Glamour Novels & Stories

“I can’t help how I look. People as and I just say I changed my skincare routine as a joke but I look like I’m 25. I don’t even know if this is it. If I go back anymore, if I go back to when I was 19…I don’t even know if I will be able to continue being Hector.” Gale came over to me and rubbed my arm. “I wish there was more I could do for you, but it’s not something I’ve heard of. When a witch comes into contract with a vampire like this, it creates a blood witch but it’s much different since we are essentially human with magic in us. What you’re dealing with is something far beyond that.” Her eyebrows knit together before she turned around and started to dig through her bookshelf. Pulling o

“Basically, your feelings may change? You said there is nothing permanent, right? ” “Yes. I used to love you before, but now I love you so much.” "You're such a corny guy. You should focus on our food." I stuffed him with a spoon with rice and a dish. After we had our breakfast, we headed to the Glamiosa bridal boutique. We were greeted and handed a brochure of gown and tuxedo by the owner as soon as we arrived. I chose a Cinderella-inspired off-shoulder red fiery bridal gown. Featuring a voluminous swan shape and a corset embroidered with crystals, it has a handmade headpiece and a long trail with an open lower body contour. To match my bridal gown, my lover picked a black tuxedo and red tr

She reluctantly sat there, looking at the Goddess in front of her. "Give me your hand," Hecate offered, showing the girl her upturned palm. She placed hers in it, a little surprised at the coldness meeting her skin. "You are grieving. Your heart has been broken by the vampire," the Goddess' voice sounded ominous and powerful, suddenly coming from all around her. Diana's breath hitched in her throat. The Goddess wrapped her hand around hers, her sharp and black nails quickly sinking into Diana's skin like tiny blades, drawing blood. Diana let out a pained mewl, eyes widening with alarm.

She cocked her head to the side, her red lips lifting into a beautiful yet sinister smile. "My name is Karmina, and I am here to grant what you truly desire." She said to him. Without breaking eye contact, her body started to change before him. Her skin darkened to that of chocolate, while her hair shrunk to a pixie cut and her once black eyes became this vibrant purple. His breath caught when her image perfectly replicated that of Willow, even in this naked form. "How did you do that?" He asked her, his eyes slowly drifting from hers to her bare breasts.

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.

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

he corrected, stepping out from the shadows with the kind of predatory grace that made the ground itself seem complicit, “because you wanted me to find you.” The air shivered. His nearness was intoxicating, more spell than presence. Every witch was taught to resist fae glamour — to avert their gaze, to cover their ears when they spoke, to shield their souls from the pull. But her pulse betrayed her, hammering with heat. She licked her lips. “And if I did?” Ciaran’s smile was a blade. “Then you already know the price.” — The tension had always been there, coiled and sharp, each encounter between them dancing on a knife’s edge between battle and something far more dangerous. Tonight, the knife

"I need a spacious living room, an airy kitchen, and a sex swing." "An air—hold up, what now? Sex what?" "Sex swing," he says, nodding. "For when we entertain. Didn't I mention? We're getting into swinging." I groan, face in my hands. "That has to be the worst joke in the entire world. I'm serious, Scar, I can't decide if I'm offended because of the jab at my parents or offended because it's so lame." "Sorry, couldn't help myself." "Honestly, I've never been less attracted to you right now."

"The DNA evidence of Phiclosolen." "Ah, I borrowed the last one the other day. I plan to return it this afternoon. You can come back this afternoon. I can't give it to you in person because I've run out of grace period." Lily smiled sweetly, with a hint of regret in her eyes. If we were to judge, Lily was the most accurate representation of a female student at the aristocratic private school Yophiel. She has long, wavy chestnut brown hair, pink and white skin as clear as crystal clear in the morning, and cold brown eyes. Her personality exudes a luxurious aura unique to women in a noble family. The gentle classic beauty with the lovely calf-length skirt makes her look elegant, gentle and kno

she whispered, though her voice cracked like a dropped glass. The transformation was remarkable, eerily so. She wore a handcrafted wig of jet-black strands, identical to Izora’s cascading waves. Her eyes, once hazel, now glimmered with green-gold contact lenses. A subtle, expertly drawn cut rested beneath her left eye, mimicking the faint scar Izora had carried for years. Her dress was a duplicate: the champagne silk gown Izora had worn to their last royal gala, hugging Rita’s slender curves like it belonged to someone braver. A delicate gray shawl draped over her shoulders, whispering against the silk as she walked.