Witchcraft Style Novels & Stories

My emotions clogged by the many so I can’t escape emotion swirling around me like an eternal drain on my energy. The masses are dressed in old loose clothing that will be shredded when they turn, save one wolf… me. I have to stay human, so I wore something Sierra made me take from the grimoire library. It’s armor of sorts; silver, gleaming and more like a chain mail skirt over leather pants, but my abdomen is sheathed in a metal fitted bodice, held together at the back by chain and lace and a crisscross of binding. It belonged to a warrior witch ancestor and luckily, she wasn’t that much bigger than me.

Bri I had needed the new wardrobe, not just to be less abrasive at court, but I also needed something that would scream Luna to Sadie’s mother. Not too over the top, however, portraying wealth and a flare of what was expected of the mainstream Lunas. A halter crochet dress with a deep V in the front, in a deep green, paired with a cream crochet shrug with soft fringe; a softer look than I normally would choose. The threads hugged the curves and muscles of my newly acquired physique. The wolf made me strong; whereas, my Beast made me much stronger, both physically and mentally. I’d have a radar on this bitch from the get go. Maggie almost dropped the coffee she was brandishing when she saw me

The two staffs helped me dress up while the others started putting makeup on me and decorating my hair. I'm not used to this kind of extravagant clothes. Wearing pants and a shirt is enough for me, but when I met Wright, I started wearing skirts and blouses. That's because I don't want to hear people say that his girlfriend looks older than him. I took a deep breath and came out wearing the royal blue mermaid style dress. It hugged my body shape. Its mermaid style starts in half of my thigh. The fabric was filled with Swarovski's crystals. They only put light makeup on me and straight out my hair.

Upstairs, Ruger was still watching, his grin widening as he saw the first sparks of conversation between them. Zagaff leaned closer across the small table, his voice was low, dropping little compliments between their words about fashion. Every time he said something sweet, Sylvania’s lips curved into a soft smile. She looked away for a moment before she looked back at him. It didn’t take long before they began speaking about styles that Sylvania had only read about in old fashion books. Zagaff spoke of “Parisian Drape Couture”… a style where silk flowed like water over the body, every fold that was sewn followed the wearer’s movements, making them look like they were just an imagination. Syl

Sofux was the face of order, Mar, the face of fertility and so on. Aelfric was interested to learn that, contrary to his original notions, witches are not creatures of ritual, sacrifice, and potion. Their powers are of the mind. They can move objects with their minds, pick up on the thoughts and feelings of others, and even imbue inanimate objects with certain minor forms of consciousness. The spells that Davis concocts, are largely colaborations with his three comrades. Though he seemed to always get the credit, and praise for the group's magical feats.

scoffed Walter. “Witchcraft…?” muttered the astonished Gerald. “Indeed! To be more precise, Daryl’s using the ancient witchcraft technique—that originates from the Northern Dessert—that goes by the Witchery Skypit Art! Since witches went extinct ages ago, the art should no longer exist! With that said, who the hell is Daryl…?” muttered the flabbergasted Walter…

Nora replied by looking herself, “Are you say so, I will do anything to own him” ***** The white witch was dressed in white that contains multiple layers of cloth which gave her a majestic look and a crown made of fine quality precious crystals, the niche in her head to make her the perfect queen of Ayruzglow. She was resting herself in her room. With her magic powers, she created a cloud of smoke that could be drawn the image of her husband, Jaysan Swiftwings. He was a majestic look with golden armour and a stunning figure of the manliness of his age.

Wyatt picked up the black and silver satin sash, the colors of the Silver Lake Pack. He handed the dagger back to the priestess who wiped it off and then handed it to Celeste. She stepped forward and he noticed the Crest on her back. Without thinking, he stepped to her and gently touched the skin that was still slightly irritated. Celeste sliced her left hand and as she squeezed the blood into glass, she turned and smiled at him. Wyatt smiled back at her and placed a light kiss on her shoulder. The priestess stepped around and took the dagger from her. Celeste picked up the sash with the Crystal River Pack, pale blue with blood red trim.

Do what you want! Salazar was already talking to a woman dressed in a regency era gown, and a high bun, with a wooden circlet and flowers on her head. It seemed as though they already knew they were coming. Well, coven witched were supposed to be great clairvoyants. She looked out of the world and out of place, but she still managed to look hella beautiful. How did people do that?

Magic, capable of destroying even a demon. In her bedroom, Sarah threw open her closet. Stripping naked, she slipped into the black robes of her old coven, robes that would protect her from weapon and magic alike. A dagger, a wand, and a bracelet ringed with gemstones. With these three items, she had toppled fortress walls, brought an army to its knees, and even slain a werewolf pack intent on taking her head.