Witch Poetry Novels & Stories

“We can try.” The other witches nodded weakly, their hands already beginning to trace runes in the air, glowing faintly even in the lashing rain. The witches knelt in the mud, hands pressed to the ground as they murmured incantations. The air vibrated with raw power as tangled roots began to twist and writhe beneath the floodwaters. Slowly, impossibly, they rose—gnarled and slick with algae—intertwining like the ribs of some ancient beast. The “bridge” formed, a narrow, undulating span across the raging water.

I would find a time to see them one of these days, it wouldn't be fair for them to be in the dark about their father when he was very much alive. "It's time," Vera muttered beside me. I turned to her. "Time? Time for what?" "For the priest's arrival and the oath and blood exchange." "Blood exchange? Where does that come from?" I had to ask because there was nothing like blood exchange in a normal werewolf's marriage. Blood exchange was for witches, and it was used to lock the soul together so that neither of the couple would be able to cheat on each other. It was either the cheater became sick or died.

It was a rather big tome covering many centuries of laws so I was thankful that one of the past kings had a Witch enchant it with a spell making it easier to relocate. I pulled out and opened the tome, skimming through the pages looking for a suitable punishment which I found as a change of role way. The willing victims would be able to punish the ones that abused them, though they will be using a punishment whip dipped in this Prides version of the Death’s Door poison.

For a moment, the air seemed to shift, as if the very atmosphere held its breath in anticipation of their exchange. "Well then," the witch purred, her tone dripping with intrigue. "Let's talk, my dear. About prophecies, elixirs, and the tangled web that binds us all, now that you have snagged my attention." As Clara settled into a seat near the hearth, the witch's presence loomed over her like a shroud of mystery. The dance of shadows continued, secrets and desires converging in the heart of the forest's embrace.

Then, with a surge, the horde seethed past the edge of the Pentacle, poured over the border like a wave breaching a barrier. The demons moved closer to the witch as, screaming, she stumbled backward. She was chanting now, in rapid Latin, spells of restriction and banishment. But nothing happened. The black, smoky mass of humanoid demons came on inexorably, and soon came crashing on the witch. There were sounds of brutal tearing and ripping of flesh, before the demons retreated. In the place where the witch stood only seconds before, there only remained her cloak, now in tatters, a few bones, and slimy, black poison.

It was winter period when I first found my mate, she was beautiful and fair, had skin as white as snow, her hair was as flowy as velvet, and she had the voice of an angel. Perhaps, I was biased because she was mine, but it was the truth, one thing that kept me from pursuing her at first was that she was a witch. We werewolves and witches were not that close, we tend to get on each other’s nerves, so I knew my father would not approve, he was big on keeping to the rules.

Wendy rolled her eyes, something told her she was lying, and Hayley must know very much about the things in this book. “Do you know about witches?” Wendy asked. That was all she had been seeing in the book. * Weston Hills was formerly a town of witches, a town of dark powerful witches. Amongst these witches were other supernatural creatures, spirits, vampires, werewolves, gargoyles, golems, and the rest of them. Most of them were extinct. Some years ago, these witches fled away due to the numerous attacks launched by humans on them. Though they had the power to fight back, they had to flee because they never wanted what was imprisoned to be returned. Weston Hills had other natural creatures,

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

Crystal fortress of missing stone, Find by the stealer of the sacred bone, Once you leave, consider it the last, For no one sees her more than once. The rhyme makes me uneasy. The lines tangle in my head, meaning nothing and yet pressing on me with a weight I cannot explain. A prophecy, perhaps, but hollow without a key to unlock it. Witches’ words meant for witches’ eyes. Still, I tuck it back inside the book with a shiver.

"After we mated and even before I think, Isabella said something about dream sharing?" "I have heard of it but it is rare, it normally is a gift for what we call a natural Witch or Warlock and before you ask a natural Witch or Warlock is one that doesn't need spells or words to use their magick they just need to think about what they want to do and it is done. A natural Witch or Warlock is very rare, they are so rare that there hasn't been one in over five hundred years. The only other way a Witch can usually dream share with someone is by using a spell and potion mix, and that has to be done just as the witch is about to enter into sleep. I have heard an old Witch legend that tells of a nat