Witchcraft Stories Novels & Stories

Regretfully, I put my styrofoam container down, promising my double cheese, extra bacon, extra mayo, hold the pickle, burger that I would be right with it. “Sooo, you know how you asked me to call the coven?” Citra asks, her voice high-pitched and hesitant. “Just spit it out, Citra.” “Well, there is something that I didn’t tell you about my old coven. I never really thought that it would be important, since I hadn’t planned on going back and there aren’t really a whole lot of interactions between witches and wolves. I know I should have told you, but it didn’t seem relevant and - “ She’s babbling. She’s nervous. This isn’t good.

"It was about wolves who had been exiled, banished, or killed because they were considered dangerous. It was almost like a collection of old stories about packs that had committed terrible things." Hayes's face became more serious. "I borrowed it from the library." His eyes stayed on mine. "What kind of stories?” "Different ones." I thought for a moment. "One of them was about a pack that kidnapped babies from other packs and used rituals involving them to strengthen their own bloodline. There were stories about wolves who experimented with forbidden magic, packs that tried to overthrow their Alphas, and others that were destroyed because they were considered too dangerous to be allowed to s

Jackson replied and walked away, leaving Lucia on her own. She watched as he left and tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of her mother. No matter what everyone else thought, her mother always stuck around for her. She missed her at this crucial point in her life and she missed her more for the bedtime stories she often told her. Her mother never hid the fact that she was a witch and she often told her stories about witches, both good and bad ones. She recollected her best story and tears welled up in her eyes as she imagined her mother sitting on her bed with her and telling her the story.

I knew him well. And he knows me. He’ll know it’s true. But after I’d confided everything, clutching my arms across my chest and rubbing my biceps to work some heat back into them, Adrian launched to his feet. “This is blasphemy! Everyone knows the magistrate is an upstanding citizen! What you’re saying is utter falsehood. Stuff that could get someone killed!” He scoffed. Beginning to pace. “A warlock. They don’t exist!” Adrian tossed his hands in agitation. “Everyone knows they’re a myth conjured by witches in vengeance! Only women can foster the dark arts!”

Ember Frost’s POV The story was sad and beautiful all at once. To Orion and me, it didn’t feel like a simple love story; it was more like a tale between a princess and her loyal general. “So, are you saying the Northern Duke and the witches had personal issues, beyond their usual rivalry?” I asked. The lifeweaver witches were rare and incredibly powerful. The dark energy that Satan wielded was intense, and for her to transform such a sinister force into a healing gift wasn’t just a stroke of genius—it was something far beyond that. Timing, location, and the right people were key.

“That whole warehouse was something else. That room with all the bodies laid out like a morgue… And that warlock and his two women… creepy.” “A magical mishap,” Sigrid told him. “They happen. With surprising frequency. Some witches and warlocks are truly irresponsible with their magics, and I say that as someone who frequently dabbles myself. Over the centuries, I have seen some f-k ups that would give you nightmares.” “Is it polite to ask…” Dan hesitated.

“Lake Tahoe is human territory. We protect it, or we become the threat everyone fears.” Silence followed. Not resistance but serious consideration. Seraphine tilted her head slowly. “There were… ways,” she said at last. “Long ago.” My heart skipped. “What ways?” I asked. Her gaze flicked between me and Inferno, knowingly now. “Healers once worked with witches and warlocks. Bloodcraft. Preservation amplification. It wasn’t common. It wasn’t easy.”

They were all just humans with incredible power. It is said that there was four separate covenants of whom they came from Salem. They came to these parts and formed their little colony of witches. They all had powers but all of them worked differently. There was earth witches, Water witches, Wind witches and fire witches. They all lived happily and everyone kept to their own and everyone was happy. Well at least for some time they were happy. From what the books told me, it was was that there was a time when some witches practiced dark magic which sometimes involved the sacrificing of young children. Some of the witches did not agree to this.

With a conspicuous eyes, she threw the carriage a glance before its door shuts closed, making an eye contact with those dangerous penetrating stares from the young prince for a brief moment. With the stallion pressing forward ahead of the palace guards’ convoy, the tribe princess wore a smile when the prince began to tell a tale about the surrounding forest around them, saying those old stories about the legends on human snake who reigned the entire forest and the existence of witches being executed by the catholic church itself. “I have heard although it was a pure old myths that witches can resurrect someone dead in exchange of a very huge price.” Prince Woon continued. “Price.” She mumble

It's all true, all of it. Granny Gwynn used to tell me stories about werewolves and witches. She never had a story book, just told them from right out of her head. I thought she made them up as she went along. She would even make up songs about a moon goddess, fated lovers, battles and magic. I was enchanted by them. Daydreaming about the make believe world she had brought to life in my imagination was a comfort in my solitude. I’m starting to think it wasn’t all made up. What she told me might, could, be real, and Phoenix and his brothers are the proof, right in front of my eyes.