Witches Poems Spells Novels & Stories

I yelled, stepping forward, refusing to let fear shake my voice. One of the witches turned, her hood falling back. A smirk curved across her lips. “We heard about your little trial,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “and realized this was the perfect opportunity.” “Opportunity for what?” I shot back, even though I knew. Her smile widened into something cruel. “Revenge.” My pulse pounded in my ears. The other witches closed in, their magic building around them in shimmering waves. Wolves growled weakly—unable to move, unable to shift, trapped in a spell that kept them powerless.

“Moon above and shadows deep, Bind the heart and bind the sleep. Twist the path that fate has spun, Turn the many into one. Let desire cloud the sight, Let false love replace the light. By blood offered and power claimed, Let the chosen soul be chained.” As the spell was chanted, Aurora instantly noticed Nythera subtly changing a few words within the spell as though she were secretly sabotaging it.

They were pretty, but they were destined for the bin. "I see you've come to grovel," she gloated. "Good luck with that." "Pardon me?" he asked. Belle rolled her eyes. Was he stupid or what? "I've been reading about witchcraft," she said, holding up the book in her good hand. "I know the spell has been deflected back onto you times three." "Oh?" Damien asked. "It says that?" Belle shook her head, wondering why he was playing dumb. "You know it does. You're the expert in this stuff. How does it feel, to be on the receiving end?"

Each potion can be unmade with different ingredients. As she runs us through the most common spells that are used by witches, we are expected to commit them to memory. She teaches us what the spell is, how it is cast, what it does, and finally how to stop it. We are not given any paper to take our own notes on so we try our hardest to remember everything that she tells us.

The coven witches had been trying their best to finally conclude the last piece of the spell required for the ritual the minute Alpha Killian found the gifted one, Thea, but they were unable to. Valerie had no idea what exactly they were doing wrong. But for some reason, the coven of witches were still unable to complete the last piece of the spell. Even the best weavers in the coven couldn't make out the spell. Weavers were witches who had been specially gifted with the ability to create spells. Every witch was born with specific gifts. Some could foretell the future, like Amelie, others could create spells, some were channelers, and a lot more.

As Clara was about to talk, Emrys raised a hand and said, “If you are truly who prophecy says you are, then you have a long way to go, I’m afraid.” She was about to talk again when Emrys was about to raise his hand so instead, she turned her question into a snarl, “Don’t you dare shush me again, Emrys. I mean it.” The pitcher of water beside her clattered to the ground without anyone touching it and spilled water onto the metal floor. Emrys’ gaze went to the pitcher of water and said, “You are a mouthy one, aren’t you? Anyway, you don’t know it but I will tell you. You are the most powerful witch to ever exist in centuries. Evelyn, your mother was supposed to tell you but she got to her befo

I asked her I wanted her to tell me everything because she thought I would go down for her crimes "Oh, that's what made you think I was a witch, well I have a witch friend and she helped me with a few spells and they are the ones I used on your pregnancy but as for Tomas it was a little bit of witchcraft and what he was already feeling. The spell I used was called illumination and it illuminated his hatred for you" she said with a smirk

His mind twisted with a singular, jagged purpose: to thwart the insidious grasp of the venom coursing through his veins. Meanwhile, the two witches enveloped Diana in a protective shield of magic, their incantations reverberating through the air as darkness assailed them from all sides. Spells thundered and clashed across the spectrum of light and dark, melding into a tempestuous storm fueled by the witches' unwavering resolve.

‘By the Moon’s light and spirits of the night, Break the curse and end the werewolves plight. With a cursed beings life force I plea, Free the enslaved, let their true selves be. Unbind their chains and restore their will, Harmony with the Moon will let their spirit fill. With gratitude and reverence I cast this spell, Liberate the werewolves, release them from this hell, So mote it be.’

The energy burst out of me with the force of an atom bomb, almost knocking me on my ass. It streams from me in a blinding bright blue light no one can look at. I’m vaguely aware of the witches’ voices rising up in fear, then dying down as the energy tapers off, contained within the glass. This spell is so much stronger than I thought it would be. I can wipe out an entire coven and then some with the spell contained in the jar.