Witch Poetry Novels & Stories

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

"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

“Wolves asleep amidst the trees, bats all are swaying in the breeze, but one soul lies anxious wide awake. With its fear of all manner of ghouls, hags, and wraiths. For your puppet, perfection, white and sleep has flown. Be warry and up to your guard for the fear that surrounds and along. For the witch whose heart is an utter cold, will curse you, truth be told. She comes she'll go leave naught behind, but curses and bolds. Deep, dark forest, birds are silent for the night. Cows turned in as daylight dies, but one soul lies in a hunting state or disarray. With its fear of all manner of ghouls, hags, and wraiths. For your puppet, perfection, oh please shut your eyes. Lie still, lie silent, ut

This is not an easy thing, that kid will destroy the world and make a big war. Seeing Viona leave from the basement, Aro smiled broadly. He summoned the witches, there were about five witches who came. They immediately took a position like the edge of the star and let Vasilio be in the middle. Sounds of incantations similar to chants continued to reverberate there. Black smoke came out from one of the witchers and it rushed toward the other witcher. The puff of smoke formed a clear image of stars, then when Aro from a distance shouted a word, the smoke moved upwards as if pulled hard. It pursed, formed a pentagon, and swooped down into Vasilio's chest.

And before I am the Weeping Woman, crying. "I'm so sorry," she dropped to the floor and cried. "I just…I just wanted my Tomas back. I want Tomas back." Viola weeps. I sighed and looked at Zayn, who reached inside his cloak and handed me a chalk. I went to an empty wall and drew a rectangular door and characters representing runes. I placed my hand on the wall and closed my eyes as I spoke the ancient tongue of the witches before me. A warm, tingling feeling against my hand meant the magic was a success.

Humiliated and Heartbroken hunchback Adrian gifted Mariana a farewell gift which was a pure silk red colored gown embellished with ocean pearl, Marian immediately became obsessed with that gown and she wore it however from that very time she felt weird changes in her body, by next sunrise her entire body got covered in boils, soon her boils started bleeding, and she got bed ridden, hearing this incident my grandmother quickly mentioned that Adrian was indeed a ‘Warlock’, A warlock is a male practitioner of witchcraft, she also scolded Mariana parents for her ill upbringing, Marianna parents begged grandmother to heel their daughter however grandmother only promised to help if they give her p

But she didn’t hesitate to help in anyway she can despite her being the weakest. From the edge of the woods different figures emerged, cloaked witches, moving with natural grace like they were floating , their eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. They carried weapons that beamed with energy , spells humming faintly in the air. Some launched projectiles while others advanced silently, attacking from between trees and cutting off escape routes. The defense answered fast. Wolves rushed forward to the staggered lines, some were shifting while running, some of them were already bleeding, and the space between them and the witches lit up with claws, smoke, and bursts of spells. The air was very

The screaming starts. We do not find out much. The witches that are attacking are not part of a particular coven. They are almost like rogues traveling alone or in small groups. Someone just shows up and gives them their assignment. Hester did not know who this person was nor did she see their face. The woman just shows up gives them information on where to go and what spell to use.

But the answers he sought remained elusive, veiled in the complexities of ancient texts. As frustration threatened to consume him, a serendipitous discovery illuminated a previously unseen path. In a dusty corner of the library, tucked away in a forgotten tome, Zander stumbled upon an encrypted manuscript—an account of a confrontation between the coven and an ancient pack of werewolves. Zander deciphered the cryptic script, unraveling the secrets of the witch’s origins and her connection to the ongoing conflict. It was revealed that the witch, once human, had been seduced by the dark forces that corrupted her soul. In her quest for power, she had made a pact with malevolent entities, becomin

Not the strategy I wanted. But it would work. I turned and sprinted back across before the bridge gave way. It didn’t completely collapse, but one side sagged enough to disrupt their formation. I disappeared into the smoke. Not running away. But circling back. Sometimes a hunter has to run so the wolves tire themselves out.