Witches Cane Novels & Stories

Pain bursts across my ribs. I gasp, pushing myself up… …and feel the my power surging, eager, wild, begging to be unleashed. “No,” I hiss at myself. “Not now. Not here.” But the witches are already advancing, their shadows stretching unnaturally long across the pavement. “Control yourself!” The eldest shouts. And then… “NO! EXPEL IT!” With a whip-like motion, she flicks her fingers and vines of glowing white magic wrap around my wrists and ankles, tightening until my skin burns.

She was wearing a pair of thick, red leather boots that were lined with steel spikes along both soles and were designed to inflict pain even upon someone as powerful as she was. She walked around her house like someone doing incantations and spells, chanting under her breath and throwing little balls of light in front of her, each one of them containing different amounts of magic. Some seemed weak enough to be blown about by a gentle breeze, others seemed dangerous enough to make people think twice before confronting her. Cassandra loved these balls of energy. They helped keep things interesting. Especially at this time of year where most other witches used candles or small lamps to help th

It wouldn’t do to scare the girl any more than I was almost certain she was. “No Jules, I’ll handle it,” I growled firmly, looking her dead in the eyes until she budged, nodding once and looking like she had something on her mind before she stepped away silently, closing the redwood double doors softly behind her. It was good to establish dominance with your familiars once in a while, especially tricky beings like witches. One sign of weakness and they latched on like newborn wolves to a mother’s tit. Nasty business. Not Ma Jules though, she had that pain in her hip she’d said. Now that I think about it, I’d never seen her use her cane after that first week I’d employed her.

Because everything comes back to Mayari being the moon goddess. “Before that, let's do something about this place of mine, shall we?” Aunt Kyndra said. She held up the white stick which apparently seemed to be her wand. “Tidy!” The scattered books moved spontaneously and one by one returned to the bookshelf. All the mess flew into the nearest trash bin. Brooms, Tags, mops, all worked together until the whole place was squeaky clean. I shook my head as I watched everything. Casters really had it good. With a swish of a wand and a spell, they can do anything.

, he tells pointing towards one clay tablet which has letters written in old Latin language which is different than the evolved Latin which humans know, being a witch I clearly understand and can read it since my childhood. “usus vulpis rubri mortui sanguinis ad tollendum venenum e lamia efficax est cum sol corpus ferit”, I read it out loud unconsciously deep in the thoughts. I remember seeing few vampires coming and leaving my parents work place when I was young, but I didn’t knew that witches and wizards used to note down these things when they have photogenic memory and they teach others practically making medicines than giving notes. “What was that?”, Dr Wilson asks curiously to which I

Chapter 3 Alex I don’t know why my dad insists I go to this stupid elder ceremony. I know we have to be nice to them and pretend to get along, but I was really looking forward to a nice run on the equinox. We don’t have to shift except for on the full moon, but any type of celestial holiday or event our wolves tend to get a little pent up. There was no chance I would be able to shift in front of a coven of witches. I doubt half of them have ever even seen an actual werewolf in person.

The witch gestured them to sit but there weren’t any chairs to sit on. She snapped her fingers and four orange bean chairs popped out of nowhere. Angela didn’t hesitate and walked forward, sitting uncomfortably on one of the chairs. Miles rushed to sit beside her while Kale and Justin walked up to the chairs expecting the worst. She was unpredictable. They were taking heavy risks. In the snap of a finger, she could do unimaginable things to them but they needed to take this risk to do greater things. “We need your help,” Kale said eyeing the cinnamon witch greedily.

For she wrote that a great evil would come and wipe out the Owen’s women if they were not strong enough. Maries magic was not like other witches she knew. Hers worked on instinct and magic flowed freely but was unpredictable at times. She often wondered if this was a part of the spell as if there was a precursor to make sure they meet stronger men to make sure their blood line is as strong as possible. Collecting talents and strengths adding it into their DNA until they made the ultimate Owens witch to fight this evil, she fore saw.

Stone, her mate, stood steadfastly by her side, his posture rigid and ever-vigilant, acting as an impenetrable shield for his new family. Ms. Polly stepped forward from the front of the crowd, her presence commanding an immediate, absolute silence. The elder witch wore a flowing gown of deep violet, her silver hair woven with tiny, glowing crystals that pulsed with an ethereal, ancient light. In her hands, she carried the sacred pack basin, filled with shimmering, silver-infused water that reflected the light of the April moon shining through the high glass ceiling.

Flickering candles lined the edges of the circle, their flames dancing in rhythm with the whispers of the wind. Seraphina stood at the altar, her hands hovering over the five amulets spread before her. Her eyes were closed in deep concentration, her lips moving in silent incantation. Behind her, her coven of witches moved in unison, each of them chanting in an ancient language, their voices blending into a haunting harmony that seemed to resonate with the power of the amulets.