Witchs Love Novels & Stories

Sylvia said, hitting the table angrily. Her transformation keeps changing each day, where did she get the nerve to talk to the witches this way? I am an Alpha and I choose to stay quiet. " Stay quiet Sylvia!" I ordered. " We sense our kind in your castle, we need confirmation. We wanted to go in and check ourselves but found answers along the line. She is pretty." He commented, the rest of the board members cleared their throat. " Witches love playing games, I heard beating around the bush is quite their favorite game and I'm not in for it."

For what can the best puppet that she can have, but the kind that both have equally good and bad with the desire to save and kill. “Because he is my only world.” LOVE. The one word that rings and only to the witch’s mind. Considered the most powerful word and emotion of all, but then it is the same emotion that bares the other sins at hand. The beginning of everything, as well as the start of chaos, blood, and war. “Exhilarating.” The Mistress of time giggles in amusement. Then with a snap of her finger, a contract is written. As her words echo with a bit of a deep and eerie voice.

No wonder he's been quiet this week, it was because he was plotting which is why he doesn't want me to notice him, and as for how he got a witch to help him create the wendigo and also gave him that powder, it's a simple thing to crack. He went to seek help from Elisa, the cold witch, A.K.A. the lone witch. She's a white witch who is in no coven, likes to work alone, and also has some annoying fucked up relationship with Dad, she was also the one who built the barrier and so it was easy for the Wendigos to break through it. “Have you figured out who the person is?” Dexter asks, both of them now looking at me waiting for me to spill the person's name.

"I don't get it. Why falling in love helps us?" She slowly turned and pulled on a weak smile as she grabbed my hand. "My dear, sweet Alice. The person you are bound by has the other half of your soul. After a witch is born, their souls are cut in half and sent to our destiny. Once you find that destiny, your life is complete. You will become the most powerful witch." Her words still ring in my head after she died that day. Still confused and a bit skeptical about this ordeal. Daniel was the love of my life, but after hearing about half-souls from Octavia, I never had those solid feelings for Daniel.

Vaelor said, his voice turning cold and bitter as he looked at the representation of the first Alpha. "It looks like they tried to cut the witches out of the deal to keep the power in the family, and that's when the partnership turned into a parasite," I added, and as I spoke, a section of the floor beneath the carvings began to glow with a deep, liquid light that revealed a perfectly still pool of water caught in a basin of roots.

“He will be your downfall.” A cold chill ran through me. Esther continued, her voice laced with something almost like pity. “Love has always been the weakness of witches. It blinds them, leads them to ruin. Sometimes by betrayal, sometimes by sacrifice.” Althea stiffened beside me, but I barely noticed. My mind was reeling. “How many sacrifices have you already made for this pack, Prisca?” Esther asked. “How much have you given up? And now, you are about to make another one.”

“They were a mistake.” I listened, transfixed, as she wove the tale of two witches—lovers from rival covens. Their love was forbidden, and their power was feared. When they ran, seeking freedom, they were hunted like animals. And when one was struck down, the other—mad with grief—turned to blood magic, the most dangerous of all forbidden arts.

the older woman scoffs. “Witches,” the girl confirms. “Swear it. Mireth wants them back in Lunemar. Says they can help with healing, childbirth, crops. Says they’ve changed and wants to promote peace.” She glances at the snow-dusted ground. “I just wish it would be spring already. Maybe if the witches left, winter would finally leave with them. She said it’s time for unity. That we should vote to let them in.” A low growl rumbles in my chest, unbidden. One of my youngest fighters flinches at the sound and veers sideways, ears flat. He stumbles, then shakes it off, snarling at his opponent.

I hissed in pain, watching as blood welled up, warm and thick, dripping down my wrist. The witch’s tongue slithered from her mouth. She licked the wound. Slow. Deliberate. Like she was tasting me. Her eyes rolled back, and she shivered, her body convulsing in what looked like sick pleasure. Then she turned to Beth. Beth whimpered, shaking her head. “Please,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper. “Please don’t—” The blade came down. Another slice. Another shudder of delight from the witch as she devoured the blood.

"Love. She fell in love with a wolf and she chose him over her coven. She chose him over everything." Kade stared at me and his voice was quiet. "That is why the witches hate the wolves so much." "That is why the witches hate the wolves." The mural continued and the story was tragic and the ending was bleak. The witch who had betrayed her coven was hunted and she was captured and she was sealed away. The wolves who had loved her could not save her and the witches who had hated her could not forgive her. She was locked in a chamber beneath the mountain and the symbols were carved and the seal was cast and the memory was buried.