Witchcraft Stories Novels & Stories

Swallowing against a lump in my throat, I pondered on it for a bit while her eyes stripped me bare. “I just don’t know where to begin, or how to tell you this.” “Try.” “Okay. The thing is… I have this gift. Like, I might know a thing or two about the future.” She blinked, then leaned in. “A wolf that sees visions?” “Perhaps.” “That is sacrilege, you know?” My heart stalled. “Sacrilege is a strong word.” “Yes, exactly! Witchcraft.” “But I have no powers, no magic.” “Hush!” She glanced around quickly, then whispered. “No one else must know this, else you are dead. Understood?”

The moment Hylda came into the picture and put Sadie to death the tradition had died with her. The witch's quarters looked old and worn down from years of neglect. Sadie was long gone by the time she had even been permitted to enter the pack house but she'd heard from the older generations what it used to be like. The walls apparently had a glow to them from the amount of magick in the room. There was rumored to be a large crystal sat in a well, center of the room where the users would replenish themselves. Foliage decorated the room making it look like a green house with work stations set up. Large wooden work tables covered in rare ingredients and spells books from past generations lay on

He kicked the nearby chair, sending it flying to smash the wall behind it. “It is safe to say that our prince has been bewitched. We cannot trust him now. He returned the diadem to her. Our people fought and risked their lives for that and he returned it to her. Not only that, has also issued a decree making her the ultimate authority. She has casted a spell on him. She is a witch!” he yelled with his hands clenched and veins bulging in his neck. “Witchcraft, magic and sorcery is apparently a crime punishable by death in her tribe,” Sir Clement sneered as he walked in to join his family. A Lokey in all his ways, he would be serving life in prison or long executed if all his crimes surfaced.

They all indeed saw her, that she summoned fire with her hands. I recall my grandfather’s stories from when I was a child. The tale of witches, sprites, mages, fae, vampires and even orcs has been a tale in every generation. My men stand around with their hands on their hips, awaiting my next instruction. ‘Do you all recall the tales, as children, about supernatural species that supposedly once roamed the lands of Mysteria?’ I ask my men, swigging the contents of my glass before my squire refills it again.

“They used to hunt us for what our bodies could offer to make their spells and potions stronger. They’re not friends to any supernatural creature. They see us all as harvest. What a fool your brother is. The witch wouldn’t have helped him unless he offered something in return.” “Wait, are you all serious about this? Witches?” It’s hard to believe, but then again, werewolves are real, so why not witches? “Yes,” Warrick says. “Just because you haven’t met or seen a creature doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Stories and folklore come from somewhere, usually from truth.” “Alright, I’ll believe it. So what does this mean then? What does it mean for us that Ezra has a witch with him?”

“They also bleed money.” “What—” I picked my steps over a root. “What is a ‘man-made wolf’?” “The story says a bite can make you,” he said. “Like a fairy tale for idiots. That’s a lie nine times out of ten and a death sentence the tenth. The Goddess doesn’t like shortcuts. There are other ways.” He glanced at me, amused by my ignorance. “Witches who don’t mind getting their hands weird. Old rites that smell like copper and salt. You can stitch a man to the Moon if you know where to poke the needle.”

Though, I had to admit that Slade had drastically changed recently. "I don't understand what you're talking about," I said. "Just know he'll never love you and-" "Can you tell me the secret now?" I interrupted. Britney smiled a sweet and sickly expression that made me want to smack her hard across her face. "Oh, you will. He got into a dangerous deal with the covens." "The covens?" I murmured, trying to remember where I had heard the name before. "Yes, the coven. The most powerful witches in history. They make wishes come true only after a promise is made, and it must be fulfilled after the wish is perfected. However, Slade didn't fulfil his end of the bargain."

Her journey had been fraught with challenges and sacrifices, but she had embraced them willingly, driven by an insatiable hunger for knowledge. Within the hallowed halls of the Violet Moon Occult, Sasha had found a community of like-minded individuals, bound together by their shared fascination with the supernatural. Together, they had embarked on countless rituals, conducted intricate spells, and exchanged esoteric wisdom, forging a bond that transcended the boundaries of time and space.

We didn’t make it to a bed. He spun me around, bent me over the kitchen counter, and dragged my shorts down. I heard his zipper. Then the thick head of his cock pushed through the wetness between my legs and sank in deep. The stretch pulled a broken moan out of my throat that echoed off the cabinets. He didn’t slow down. One hand gripped my hip, the other reached around and found my clit, rubbing in tight, wet circles while he fucked me in long, heavy strokes. “Jesus, Sophie—”

“No matter what you do, don't let my brother find out what happened between us. I will never forgive you in the same way that I did the rest of you.” “Remember that I am not the same person I was when you gang raped me. I am Violet now, the woman you bow to, the woman capable of resurrecting you, the white witch, as they call me. But let me assure you, they may call me the white witch, but I'm not that kind, so don't get on my nerves.”