Witch Veiling Novels & Stories

He falls into stride beside us as we maneuver the barracks to the cabin I left the witch in. Doors yield at one push and her scent flies into my nose immediately before my eyes could land on her. She's still hanging on the saltire, looking pale. “And there she is…” “Veil!” Rio calls, cutting me off, and totters to where she is. Pudim hot on his tail, equally worried. “Veil?” Pudim's voice becomes lost. “Let me handle her, alpha.” He's already removing the shackles from her limbs, tiny whimpers erupting from Veil's lips.

He told them it was the mark of the "Sanctuary of the Veiled." Laila felt a flicker of recognition. She remembered a story her nanny used to tell her a fairy tale about a group of wolves who were so beautiful they had to hide their faces behind silk veils to keep the world from going blind. She had always thought it was a story about vanity, but now she realized it was a coded myth. She told them the story, her voice low in the cramped space. She said the "Veiled" weren't beautiful; they were radiant. They were Silverbacks who hadn't been warriors, but healers and scholars.

Lady Vesper collapsed to her knees, hair wild, eyes wide. “You didn’t kill us.” Autumn stepped past her. “No.” “I showed you.” She walked through the broken glass barefoot, cuts forming with every step. The shards sang under her weight, chiming like distant bells, but her stride never faltered. Light caught in the bloodless wounds, casting fleeting sigils on the floor. But she didn’t bleed. The Veil wouldn’t let her. Its protection wrapped around her like a second skin, sealing her from harm, marking her as something untouchable—neither wholly mortal nor wholly myth.

After that, meeting up in large masses like this became too dangerous. The high priestesses don’t come alone. They are all wearing shrouds in different shades from bright colors of red, green, and yellow to dramatic dark blues, purple, and even black. They have come with other witches who are carrying lit torches to guide the way. They all look suspiciously at the vampires. Kane’s guards keep their distance, sensing they are unwelcome in this place.

Outside the windows, the campus melted—buildings bending, trees flattening into two-dimensional shapes before snapping back into impossible geometry. At the top, wind roared through the shattered clock face. Below them, chaos glimmered—half world, half mirror. Lila faced him, hair whipping around her. “There’s one way to seal it.” Cade shook his head. “Don’t you dare.” “If I merge fully, the Veil stabilizes. I become the bridge and the barrier.” “You’ll cease to exist!” She smiled faintly. “Maybe that’s the point.” The captain burst through the door, gun raised. “Step away from the edge!”

“A life you should have thought about when you childishly decided to cause harm to people by your actions. Did you really think you’d walk away from this with a slap on the hand and a warning? Well, here’s your reality check and I’m going to cash it as I write it; ‘Misha David Michaels, you are hereby and forever stripped of your ability to mate. You are sentenced to a lifetime as a Veil Warden. You will report to the Veil Warden Academy before this day’s festivities begin. Anyone eligible to be your mate has already verbally rejected you. You are alone. May others learn from your story, because that’s all you are now, a memory.’”

signifies, Agatha, the first witch and the mother of all witches." Her eyes, serious. "What you are about to see is a secret that has been guarded for generations. These women are part of my coven, and they have been waiting for you." With a deep breath, Soraya pushed open the door. The room beyond was large and circular, it was illuminated by the warm glow of large candles arranged in a pentagram on the floor. The air was thick with the scent of incense. As Seraphine stepped inside, she recognized some of the women she had seen earlier in the village. They all stood in a circle, their faces illuminated by the flickering light. It turned out people from different packs were here, each woman

Her face went from pale to ashen gray. “Moon Goddess help us,” she whispered. “That's Widow's Veil.” Malcolm and I exchanged a sharp glance. “What is Widow's Veil?” Malcolm demanded. The grandmother's voice shook. “It's an ancient poison. Slow-acting, nearly impossible to detect. It feeds on the victim's life force, draining them bit by bit until there's nothing left. The black veins... they're the final stage. Once they appear, the person has days sometimes only hours before their heart stops.”

“Like it’s waiting for us to mess up.” “It probably is,” Vivienne said sharply, her dagger already drawn. She scanned the area with practiced precision, her posture tense. “The Veil isn’t just alive—it’s watching us. Testing us. The relic might’ve stabilized that marker, but we’re still not out of its grasp.”

My heart beats like someone else is controlling the rhythm and I feel like I am connected to Azraelyrs in some way like an invisible thread now binding us together. Lady Veyrien smiles, and then, she gestures to two priestesses carrying a bowl that is not burning like the others. When the priestesses get closer, she dips her hands into one of the bowls that contain some kind of sacred oil. She smears the oil onto my hair, my forehead, my wrists, and each touch sends a jolt of something hot shocking throughout my body. White smoke wraps around my dress like a blessing and a threat all in one as she begins addressing the crowd.