Witches Stories Novels & Stories

"How much time does she have?" "Six years at most." Hecate told her. Six years sounded like a long time for some, but before long, the time will come. Leto nodded before approaching Artemis, the brown Wolf in tow. Hecate watched the mother and daughter greet one another with a simple gesture over their hearts before disappearing. Hecate stood alone in the abandoned temple, the sound of singing seagulls and crashing waves her only company now. Maybe it was because she was accustomed to it, but the darkness at the edge of the horizon seemed to inch ever so closer. Six more years until fate rested in the palm of the hands of a mortal, but that's how stories normally went. Heroes and heroines, r

“Good job princess.” I looked around seeing others walking into the woods. One man, a tall slim man dressed all in a black robe was burning something in the fire. The smell seemed to be white. I don’t know why white was the word that first came to me, maybe pure. I looked up at Nikko, “Is he a witch?” Nikko looked down at me, “a warlock maybe. I don’t think he would take kindly to you calling him a witch.” He arched his brow, “why Samantha are you a witch?”

PROLOGUE Long ago in the Land of Ramain, witches or anyone who were practicing witchery were being chased down and executed. The law of Ramain forbade the use of spells, witchcrafts and any form of magic to prevent chaos and maintain peace around the land. Witches escaped and isolated themselves in the middle of the woods, where no one could harm them. They also stayed away from one another to live safely. A witch named Sarah, who was separated from her family, lived alone in the dark side of the mountains. Her mother was one of the witches who died during the run and had no idea what happened to her older sisters and to their father.

"The stories begin the same way." Her voice settled into the rhythm of an old tale. "One unbearably hot afternoon, two witches went into labor. They were sisters of the same coven. Both carried children conceived with human men. When the births were over..." She paused. "...both babies were boys." My mother lowered her cup.

Roland pressed. She looked shaken, and Elena hated that because Gail never looked shaken. “When Maria and I were children, our grandmother told us stories,” Gail said slowly. “Old witch stories. Not werewolf legends.” “About what?” Elena asked. “The beginning.” The room seemed to quiet around her. “Wolves tell the story differently. They say the Moon Goddess gifted wolves their strength, their hierarchy, their connection.” “She did,” Roland said. Gail nodded. “Yes. But witches believe there was one before the packs.”

It's all true, all of it. Granny Gwynn used to tell me stories about werewolves and witches. She never had a story book, just told them from right out of her head. I thought she made them up as she went along. She would even make up songs about a moon goddess, fated lovers, battles and magic. I was enchanted by them. Daydreaming about the make believe world she had brought to life in my imagination was a comfort in my solitude. I’m starting to think it wasn’t all made up. What she told me might, could, be real, and Phoenix and his brothers are the proof, right in front of my eyes.

The pirates looked around wondering if it was a good idea to go to the witch's shop. — Introduce yourself, seaman... — Manna for Igor — Igor Huntson — Maná, well, say what you want, even though you already suspect it. — Maná got up and walked, looking at the captain. Igor didn't look away from her, he had seen worse, he had faced worse beings at sea, which some called monsters. On the other side of the house, witches were gathered. About ten witches, most were young people and children. They were distributed around the room, sitting on the sofa, others challenged each other to see who was more powerful and others... looked through the small window in the door, the room where the pirates were

"You and that study. You're just like your father. Too curious for your own good." I smiled. "Please, Mama? Just a little story. I promise I’ll sleep right after." She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Alright. Just one story." I turned around and snuggled under the covers, watching her as she sat beside me, tucking the blankets around me tight. The moonlight coming in from the window made her hair glow silver. "The Flare Witches," she began, her voice a little lower now, like she was telling a secret. "They were one of the most powerful witch factions to ever exist. Not many remember them now. Some even say they were just a legend, but they were real. Very real."

She opened hlthe book and also noticed that the book was empty. “I can’t–“ Rudina began “Concentrate Young witch” the witch said and that was how Words started to appear on the paper. Rudina read with so much amazement. “I can see them!” Rudina said as she kept turning then suddenly she stopped. “why is there bad blood between Witches and most werewolves apart from the Discrolls?” Rudina turned to witch. “Alright I’ll tell me a story while showing you throwing a trance” the Witch began to say Latin words.

He said. “I thought witches didn’t have mates as us wolves do.” I stated matter-of-factly. “Just because we don’t find our mates at eighteen like you do and have some miraculous bond snap into place doesn’t mean that we don’t have soul mates. Many witches are serial monogamists who mate for life just like werewolves. The goddess leads us to them in mysterious ways” he said. “So, are you trying to tell me that Sierra is my mate?” I asked him almost laughing in his face