Witch Veiling Novels & Stories

His dark hair fell into his eyes, but the way he looked at me—like he could see straight through my skin—made my breath hitch. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he said, stepping closer. “The Veil’s thin tonight.” “The what?” His jaw tightened. “You really don’t know.” It wasn’t a question. I crossed my arms. “Then maybe explain instead of speaking in creepy one-liners.” He hesitated, looking over his shoulder like he expected something to leap out of the shadows. “The Veil is what keeps… them out. It’s not supposed to show you things unless—” He stopped himself, eyes narrowing. “What did you see?”

Poison said as Violet slipped on Musa's shoes and collected the black wig Piggy kept in his bag. She slid the wig on and nodded, “This should be alright.” “Wait,” Musa handed her veil to Violet, “I never go anywhere without my veil, because of that, very few people know what I look like.” Violet took the veil and put it on, making Musa nod in affirmation, “Here.”Musa showed Violet her sword. “This is an important possession that has been passed to the Saintesses of Lagsu for generations, take good care of it.”

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

Leading his followers, Master Vipersage approached Vivianne and knelt. His men knelt as well, performing an ancient tribal ritual. "Welcome back, Goddess of the Venomveil Tribe!" Vivianne was bewildered and asked, "You're mistaken. I am not your Goddess."

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.

He came at Aphael again, claws slashing, teeth bared. The clash between Aphael and Triton raged on and their howls and snarls were echoing across the Valley of Peak. Moonlight clashed against shadow, and the air crackled with the raw energy of their battle. Aphael’s body was covered in a radiant white aura as the power of the moon run through his veins. Every movement he made was fluid and precise, each strike landing with the force of a hurricane. The pale glow of the moon above seemed to bend to his will and illuminated his figure even within the depths of the valley’s shadows.

He squeezed a generous amount of the cream onto his thumb and began to rub it into the angry purple bruise on her inner arm. ​His movements were precise and deliberate. His gaze remained focused entirely on the wound, not on her face. The heat of his hand was a strange, contradictory presence—the same hand that had just dominated her was now carefully tending her wounds. ​"You will use this three times a day. We need these to fade before your next public appearance," he instructed, his voice low and managerial. "The Valenti name projects strength. Your injuries project vulnerability, and I will not allow it."

He gave this to me? A smile spread across my lips before I could stop it. My mood lifted instantly. He trusted me. I quickly gathered the scrolls and placed them into a small bag, making sure to conceal them properly. Then I left the room and headed straight to my office. Once inside, I locked the door behind me. Only then did I sit down and begin reading. The Veil. The most powerful witch tribe. For centuries, witches and werewolves had been enemies, locked in endless war.

I felt so alone by what she said but I said nothing. “Why is everything so dark?” I asked as I looked around. Circe frowned slightly as she turned to me. We had resumed our walking. “You are seeing everything in dark color?” she asked me. I nodded. “How interesting.” She muttered. “You are seeing the Black Veil. The Shroud that covers and protect us witches from all over the world.” “Is that why the werewolves cannot see you?” I asked. “Precisely,” Circe said. “But why not leave? Instead of hiding.” I inquired.

Cael joined them, folding his arms as he stared upward. “Well, the sky looks normal to me,” he said. But just as the words left his mouth, the wind suddenly changed. The air grew colder. A strange shimmer passed across the sky—like ripples spreading across still water. All three of them froze. Then Lyra’s wrist burned. She gasped and grabbed it as the Veilkeeper mark suddenly flared with bright silver light. “What is happening?” Cael asked. Astraen’s expression darkened. “Something is disturbing the Veil,” he said quietly.