Witch Veil Novels & Stories

She picked up the top of her k’tai and tried putting her braid into it. “Can you help me?” Velsusi snapped his head and looked over at her. “Why, yes. It’s been a while since I’ve seen anyone put one of these on, but I think I remember well enough.” He walked over and put her long brown braid into the tight veil. She pulled it over her head and face. Next, she placed her right hand into the sleeve and carefully adjusted her fingers into the attached gloves. She pushed her arm out and moved the veil so as to avoid any fabric overlaps or wrinkles. She did the same with her left arm and hand then pulled the veil down over her bare back to her waist. She closed a few buttons in front and stood u

she whispers, her form crumbling, her starlight fading, her body ash. The wraith’s final claw slashes Renn, his relics shattering, his scar bleeding shadow, his body still, his hymn gone. Cassia’s cry pierces the air, her fire flaring, her blade striking the wraith’s remnants, her eyes glistening. Kalia’s orb pulses, its light flooding the altar, sealing the rift, the Veil’s hymn surging, its threads weaving anew. The wraith shatters, its essence dissolving, the abyss stilling, the Veil’s starlight faint but enduring.

Cordelia said, as she was shaking on her chair. “Do you think there’s any connection to the veil professor?” Jared cut in and asked. Cordelia's eyes widened with a mixture of awe and apprehension as that question left Jared’s lips. "The black feather, on the other hand," the professor continued, "is a symbol of the Veil.” Jared leaned forward, his voice filled with determination. "How do we stop the Veil, Professor? How do we bring them down?" “How do we stop all these people?” Jared asked.

I was trying really hard not to cry and was failing terribly. I move to the stepping stool right in front of the mirror. While Nora and Kim are wowing over the look, my eyes are glued to myself in the mirror. It’s beautiful. Not the casual type of beautiful. The type of beautiful that Bentley Brown described in the room my grandma died last Christmas Eve. “It comes with a custom-made veil,” the designer chimes, getting the veil and putting my hair into an updo to get it in. The veil is a thin, stainlessly white and long net, far broader than my dress, flowing behind me. I grab the edges of the veil to adjust it slightly so that it could be seen more from the front while actively suppressing

Veronica's POV: "Are you sure the veil was to hide her scent? Veiled werewolves in my pack are called the maidens of the moon goddess. How come her veil is to cover her scent." He was doubting me. "Are you now doubting me, my love?" "Of course not." He shook his head. "Then take what I tell you Dante." I hopped away from him, took the veil from the floor, stumbled on a book lying there carelessly. It must be for her.

The wind whispered secrets through the leaves overhead. But all I could focus on was the burning in my chest where the mate bond anchored itself to my soul. "Tell me about the veil," I said as we ran. "It's a tear in reality," Marcus explained between breaths. "A place where the mortal realm and the shadow realm overlap. Supposedly, it only appears during certain cosmic alignments." "And Maeve can open it?" "She can widen it enough for you to pass through," Marcus said. "But the crossing is dangerous. Most people who attempt it don't survive."

“You’re fading” He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t waste your energy on me. Just tell me how we end this.” Tears filled her eyes. “There’s only one way.” He stared at her. “No.” “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” “I can see it in your face.” She looked away. “The Veil was made from sacrifice. Only one soul can close it. That’s the law it was built on.” “Then it’ll be me,” he said immediately.

Charlie stepped toward it and felt her skin prickle, the same electric pressure she felt before a storm breaks. "What is that?" she whispered. "A ward," Wren said. "My mother specializes in them." "You didn't mention she's a witch." "She's not." Charlie gave him a look. "Wren, this is witch behavior." "She's... something else." Before she could demand clarification, Wren lifted his hand and pressed his palm to the veil. The barrier rippled like disturbed water, then parted, revealing a narrow passage of swirling silver light. Wren gestured. "After you."

I open my eyes and take the card out of the blinding glow, and as my brain registers the card it looks blank, but I do as tradition states, spin around and hold it in the air for all to see. The gasps and the yelling starts, and I don’t understand why, so I bring the card down to my eye level and watch it. The card is black with what looks like six white silhouettes on it. There are colors beginning to swirl within each of the white silhouettes. Glancing up I see six figures walking toward me, but I can’t make out who they are. “Mistress to the Veil! The whore and her men must be sacrificed! You know the law! Kill the betrayers!”

“You will now.” Words. So simple. From someone who understood why. I nodded, though it took several heartbeats for her meaning to truly sink home. She reached for the bedroll again, shuffling aside a pile of transmutation notes and retrieving something from underneath. A folded knit scarf. Black and red. Thick wool weave. Emberbound colors. Without preamble, Evelina closed the distance between us and shoved it into my grasp. “Layer up. It’s cold at the top.” Heat spread across my cheeks, though she wasn’t looking at me. I eyed the scarf instead, traced my fingers along the twisted yarn absently. There was still her scent on it. Hidden magic and copper. Cedar and parchment.