Witchcraft Style Novels & Stories

Candles, crystals, a knife that looks a thousand years old, and many different types of leaves and spices. While she collects them, I study the other witches around the room. There are about ten or fifteen of them, and they all seem vastly different. Some are dressed in work clothes with shiny vests or name tags on, others are in gothic black style fishnet clothes with too many piercings and tattoos. Some simply look like they have only just woken up, pouring large cups of coffee with pajamas hanging from them.

Weak shifter animals are more acceptable of the new than one that is mated. "May I see where it went through?" Christian is intrigued, he knows spells similar to this but never encountered anything like this spell, the covens has advanced in their magic. He walks closer and look at Dutch's chest. From a normal point of few you can see minor burn marks but if you look closer there is a faint shimmer like very small diamonds. This witch left a mark and what the purpose of it he doesn't know. He will need to keep this to himself and do his homework before Dutch sees it and goes ballistic. This man is unpredictable and will kill him just for the sake of it.

Strolling through the corridors of his castle Vladimir couldn't help but miss watching the witch dressed up just in his shirt as he stared at Esmeray who was now wearing bright yellow crochet shorts paired with a strappy crochet top. He could even make out the outline of her black underwear and bra through her crochet outfit. For footwear, she was wearing lace-up knee-length boots. Her odd badass fashion sense and the way she carried herself in it reflected a glimpse of her dominant and carefree personality which made Vladimir feel old. He wished he could be as carefree as the witch.

The force of their power tore through the night, sending gusts of wind swirling through the trees and casting erratic shadows across the forest floor. Both witches' faces contorted with concentration as they battled for dominance. Sabrina’s energy pulsed with a radiant, almost ethereal glow, her magic weaving patterns of silver and white. The witch’s power, in contrast, twisted into dark, curling tendrils, laced with an ominous, sickly green.

The behavior the tiny fey had incited in me. I draped myself against his bare chest. Letting my breasts and budded nipples press to his hot flesh. I could see the swirling mists of black magic wafting around him. Wisping in different directions as if unsure where to go now that they could not so readily enter me with his climax.