Witches (The Council)

Witches (The Council)

Christi Venter · Ongoing · 117.6k Words

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Introduction

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered as he hugged me closer to him. His forehead touched mine, and his eyes closed. I could feel a tickling sensation from my nose. Something smelled like copper, which probably meant my nose was bleeding…

And I could smell him. He smelled like spices, and earth, a faint smell of wood smoke too, and a sweet smell I couldn’t place, almost like berries, but dark berries. I gritted my teeth as my head started to pound. I lifted one hand to my head, trying to quell the pain.

I saw images of grassy lands, flowers dancing in the wind, and his back to me. Him reaching his hand out to me… I groaned in pain as my head snapped back, trying to get away from the agony, making my already sore neck scream in protest.

“I’m so sorry.” I heard him say again through the ringing in my ears.

Suddenly, a lull fell over me. My head went quiet and my limbs felt heavy. I opened my eyes and saw his expression. He was so sad. I didn’t want him to be sad. I reached my hand back to his face, his name scratching towards the surface of my mind. “Thyrion…” I breathed, but before my fingers could touch his face, blackness filled my vision and my limbs simply stopped working.


Merianna had just officially made the Order her home along with her sister Nelia. Discoveries about hidden plans and dark workings were revealed as the mastermind was unveiled to be the Ex-Head of the Witch Council, Dermon, who had devoted himself to taboo magic.
Merianna also uncovered surprising facts about herself during these events. Which made perfect sense as to why Dermon would undoubtedly want to get his hands on her.
But apparently Dermon had something even worse planned than any of them could ever imagine. Could there be hidden answers in the forbidden taboo archives of The Witch Council? Or will Dermon's main goal only be revealed once it's too late?

Chapter 1

Clary

I jolted awake in my bed, the remnants of the vivid dream still playing out in front of my eyes. The feel of the weapon I held in my dream still left an imprint on my relaxed palms that were lying under the covers. The feel of a knife cutting open my left forearm, still burning along my skin. I sat up in bed and looked over at my alarm clock. My blurry, sleep-filled eyes told me that it was somewhere a little past three in the morning. I switched on my bedside lamp table and squinted against the burning brightness. I held my palms open in front of my eyes and wasn’t surprised when I didn’t see anything there. There was no reason ‌they should still feel like they were gripping a black wooden hilt. I then looked at my forearm that still felt like it was burning from a dagger’s blade, and to my surprise I noticed a faint pinkish line running across my forearm exactly where the dagger had struck me in my dream.

“Now that’s new…” I breathed to myself in the silence, running my right index finger across the faint red line that ran down my skin like a scar underneath the surface. It was surprisingly tender as well.

I shook my head at the development. “Too weird.”

I lay back down on my pillows and sighed, staring up at my white ceiling. It wasn’t the first time I’ve had one of these weird vivid dreams, I’ve had countless dreams of waterfalls and hills I’ve never seen before, of creatures that don’t seem depicted correctly on the internet or in mythical books. I’ve chalked all these vivid dreams up to only being my overactive imagination finally coming out to play while I was in my last year in high school. I had to admit, these dreams of mine would make for some seriously good story books, if only I didn’t get bored with typing less than halfway into a story.

I flopped back onto my bed, pulling the covers back over myself and tried to fall asleep again without success and then felt too hot lying underneath my covers. I threw them off me and stood up. Then I looked at my bookshelf with my storybooks, sketch books, journals and other nick tacks strewn on it. It wasn’t an awfully big book case, just big enough for my cramped room. I snatched one of my journals from the shelf and sat at my tiny computer desk. I grabbed my fountain pen that I had bought myself as a birthday present and started writing.

*14/08

It happened again…*

“Morning!” I yelled out as I was rounding the corner into the kitchen. I had already heard my mother moving about in the kitchen a while ago and knew she would be there already.

“Good morning, I saw ‌you were up early again this morning. Everything okay?” My mom asked, turning a worried frown my way. She had wavy brown hair that came down to her shoulder blades and a late 40’s mom body that was considered good looking after 3 children.

“Sure, I just couldn’t sleep anymore. Had a weird dream.” I said as I grabbed a bowl from out of the cupboard and went to one of the bottom cupboards to hunt for my favorite cereal.

“Are you sure? Is there something bothering you? Most of the time people get weird dreams because they are worried about something, is what I heard.” She said, still shooting a frown in my direction.

“Yeeees.” I groaned dramatically. “I am fine, don’t worry. A little dream or two won’t keep me down.” I said, smiling and walking to the table to pour myself some super-awesome-start-the-morning-right Fruit Loops.

When I walked back to grab myself some milk out of the fridge, my mom gave me a funny look. “What’s that on your arm?” She asked, pointing to my left forearm.

I looked down in surprise. It hadn’t gone away yet…

Looking up I gave my mom a shrug and the usual excuse I always give her, since she never believed me when I told her anyway. “Must have scratched myself in my sleep. Heaven knows my nails are long enough.” I said, showing her my impressive nail growth, since my nails never seemed to behave and grow properly. They are flimsy as hell.

She smiled and shook her head. “I’m certain that you are a hazard to yourself while you sleep. Bruises here, then scratches there. Maybe I should tie your limbs to the bed next time you go to sleep.”

I laughed my usual laugh that didn’t do anything except fill empty space, and as I walked back to the table, I gave her a hug. “That’ll only give me all the more reason to stay in my cozy bed and sleep in. Especially if you forget to untie me.”

She chuckled. “Forget I ever mentioned it then.” She finished packing my little brother’s lunch.

Yep, when I said 3 kids I meant me and my two brothers. My older brother was already out of the house on his own, working and studying. I was studying online and worked part time at an art shop as customer support. Hey, what can I say? It might not pay much, but I love art and I love the smell of walking into that shop every time it’s my shift. My little brother was still in high school. Poor thing is the late lamb in the family, 6 years younger than me and 8 years younger than my older brother. And I’m only turning 20 this year.

“Morning…” My little brother mumbled, looking at least dressed and combed but still like he was looking at you through the covers of his bed.

“Morning.” We said as he teetered in. Feeling devious, I came up behind him, pulled down the back of his shirt and pressed the ice cold milk bottle against the back of his neck, almost completely letting the bottle slip down the inside of his shirt and down his back.

He obviously screeched and tried to whack at me, but I’ve had 6 years of whacking experience down already before he even got conceived.

“Clary…” my mom said as she went to put the lunch box in my by brother’s book bag. “Don’t spill the milk.”

“I’m not spilling the milk!!!” I gasped, clutching it to my chest. “The blasphemy! There will be no way of having cereal then!”

I grinned deviously at my little brother and he then went to tug the milk out of my grasp. I didn’t want to let go.

“My turn.” He said, letting go of the milk and diving for my mid-section to try and tickle me. I squealed and ducked out of the way, but because of the tiny kitchen I didn’t have much space to move in, so I got caught against one of the corners by the fridge and Nate proceeded in ticking me and taking the milk out of my grasp with practiced ease. I was laughing so hard and trying to wiggle away so much that I nearly snorted. NEARLY!

“Nate! You are going to be late if you don’t stop torturing her.” Mom said as she walked past us, still writhing on the kitchen floor. Nate knew well enough to stay away from my elbows and knees when he tickled me, when I was tickled, I could not be held responsible for where my joints flailed.

Nate got off of me and I was finally able to get up. My side was stitching, but it was a good stitch, at least. I’ve more times than not ended up with bruises from our sibling tousles, especially with me and my older brother Dean, since we used to wrestle a lot and have mock battles with sticks, fists, and home-made darts, as well as climbing on the backyard trees and house roof.

“What are you going to do today, Clary?” My mom asked while moving about the kitchen.

“I have a few things to pick up from a supplier for the shop. It’s not my shift today, so I’ll just run in and out. Then I’ll come back and do some more studying and tomorrow I’m off too, so don’t wake me up.” I said, while getting back to the table and shoveling some cereal down my gullet.

Mom was satisfied with my answer and when she and my brother left for work and school, I got my car keys and was on my own way for supplies.

My little second hand two-door car sat in the garage. Don’t ask me for the make and model. I’ve never been a car person. As long as it can drive from A to B, is light on fuel, and has decent power, breaks and interior, then I don’t care what the car is as long as it’s reliable. All I knew was that it had a silver color it wore well in its senior age.

After all checks for cars and pedestrians were done, I ignited the engine and slowly started rolling out of the driveway, but stomped on the brakes when I saw a shadow suddenly appear directly behind me.

With my heart sitting in my throat, I whirled in my seat to see who’s behind, but there was nothing… Frowning, I scanned the street behind me again and saw someone walking her dog and another woman jogging down the street. Obviously, they didn’t see anything either, and it definitely wasn’t them ‌I had seen. The feeling that something wasn’t right kept nagging at the pit of my stomach, but there wasn’t anything I saw with my own eyes that could cause that feeling. No one behind me, no one bumped into the car, no one leering out of the corner of a house or window, no suspiciously parked cars.

I pursed my lips and shook my head, trying to override the silly feeling that was obviously misplaced. I had more important things to get done.


“Here you go Clary, all the acrylic and oil paint as well as acetone Geromy asked for. It’s like you guys are restocking early on this stuff ‘cause everything disappeared or something.” Old JJ said while he loaded the boxes into my back and passenger seats.

“Nah,” I said, handing the next box to be loaded. "Someone opened up an art school or something and they have been buying from us since we are the cheapest and closest. Apparently, they are making these paint packages part of the first course enrollment in painting.”

Old JJ nodded and made an agreeing noise. “Smart move to make. Especially if they play their finances right.”

I smiled because I knew JJ was right. The offer seemed tempting even for me, and I’ve been pining for painting lessons for a while now. Drawing is something I can do easily enough. It has always come naturally to me. Once I started working with colour pencils, it also seemed to agree with me. Everyone that I asked for comments said that the colour usage was well done. So next up I wanted to learn how to work with paint. Thanks to my dreams I’ve had millions of beautiful images flashing into my mind, but cannot put them on paper because the pencils would be coloured to stumps before I knew it. And art pencils aren’t cheap!!!

“Talking about art!” JJ said after the last box was loaded. “Have you made any progress with the piece I want from you?”

I smiled at JJ. “No worries, you’ll have it before the weekend.” JJ had asked me to draw an eagle for him. I had given him examples to choose from, and we both agreed that it would look fantastic in charcoal. So far I finished the pencil layout and I’ve started working with the charcoal for shading and depth. One more night of 4 hours and it will be done.

“Great!” He clapped me between my shoulder blades. A loving if rough show of affection from him. Good thing I grew up with brothers. “The Mrs. will be so surprised on her birthday! She’ll love it!”

“No worries JJ. Anything I can do for money.” I teased. He boomed out a laugh and handed me the paperwork for the supplies. I kept one copy and handed him his signed one.

“Thanks again JJ! See you in a day or so to drop off the drawing!” I said, climbing back into my car and slamming the creaky door behind me.

“Don’t mention it little missy! Call the shop the day before to let me know to come ready with something to hide it in!” he called back waving as I laughed and pulled out of the exit back onto the road.

With the smell of boxes containing art supplies in my car, I drove onto the main road in the direction of my work with a smile on my face. The roads were quiet for a change. Summer break had already started for most of the people around these areas. Yet even with it being this quiet, I just couldn’t shake that odd feeling of being watched. No matter how many times I looked behind me with nothing there, I still felt like I was being followed. No matter how many times I seemed to see something from the corner of my eye with nothing there when I looked, I still felt watched.

I fingered the garnet on the string around my neck, hoping that whatever it was would go away. Fingering the garnet reminded me about just how much I love crystals. From the first moment I laid my eyes on a shiny, interesting looking rock, I’ve been hooked on all sorts of rocks, minerals, and crystals. I smiled at myself now thinking of how many books on crystals I’ve bought myself and how many crystals I have stashed away in my velvet covered box at home, some in their own little baggies and some not. Raw ones, thumbed ones, egg ones, pointed ones, and ones that are all the colors of the rainbow and more.

Since I was little, I’ve loved candles, crystals, cards of all sorts, art, nature, animals and incenses or scented oils. A little herb garden in the backyard has now been a new addition from last year and my interest has been growing towards herbal teas and spices.

My mind went to all these little things and memories as I drove, so much so that I barely realized that I had reached the shop and almost drove past it. I parked my car at the back entrance and went into the shop to let the people know that I’ve arrived.

“Geromy! Guess what I brought!” I yelled as I marched into the door with the supply papers in hand.

“Clary? Is that you?” I heard from the manager’s office to the left in the back of the shop. Geromy was the manager/owner of the shop, basically the boss. He had started running the little business from his garage at first, believe it or not. He was now middle-aged, married and had their second kid now on the way. I was lucky enough to get a fair enough boss like him. Especially in the art industry. And let me tell you, I’ve heard plenty of scary stories about first bosses. He even allowed me to display some of my drawings in the store as well.

“I’m here, Ger! Walking to your office as we holler.” I yelled and jogged the last bit to his office door. I popped my head around the frame and waved the paper next to my face. “Happy to see me?” I asked, grinning. I knew he was happier to see the paper than he was to see me.

“You,” He said grinning, “are a lifesaver.”

I cocked my head to the side as I walked in, holding the invoice and receipt out to him. “Why? Has the client been hounding you for more paint?”

He looked at me with a harassed expression on his face. “You have no idea, Clare. I swear it’s like this woman is on the devil’s heels and is pushing him onto my heels, too.”

I shook my head. “Either way, we’ll have to put up with her because she is a client. And a happy client makes for a happy month's end payment.” I grinned.

Geromy smiled at me and laughed. “I think I should put that on my door as a motivational poster.” He said, chuckling as he got his reading glasses and looked over the invoice.

“I’ve got all the stuff in the back of my car.” I said after he put it down.

“Great! Ask Jerome to help you unload to the back. He can pack it out with Emely later.” He sighed as he went back to his emails and printed a few things.

I didn’t bother to stick around once he turned back. I’ve learned early in the beginning that once he turns back to his emails, it’s a dismissal and signal for you to get back to work and to leave him to his lonesome.

So I went back to the main end of the shop and got Jerome to help me unload the boxes full of supplies.


After my run at the shop, I got back into my car and drove on the road that would lead home. Everything was normal, the sun was shining, the sky was blue, the wind was gentle, birds were flying overhead, other people were driving about on the roads and pedestrians dotted the sidewalks every here and there.

It was all so… mundane. For a second I sat driving in my car, wondering if this was all that my life was going to be like until I died? Of course I’d get a proper job after my studies, a boyfriend sometime in the future too, get married, get a house, have kids, and raise them like my mom raised me, grow old and one day wake up in a coffin 6 feet under. Well…hopefully I won’t really wake up, but you know what I mean.

Somehow, I thought I wanted my life to be a little more exciting, like in the movies and books I always read. I’ve always heard people saying ‘be careful what you wish for’, and ‘what you want isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be’. Yet I always think to myself that I wouldn’t care if things turned out more interesting in creepy ways than they should.

I mean come on. Harry Potter for example, imagine living in a reality with magic, imagine flying cars, moving trees, creatures believed to be nothing but legends, spells, potions, runes, a whole world beyond our reach. Imagine different realms, dimensions and realities! Imagine being able to touch them! See them! Travel to them!

I shook my head…

Silly. There is no way that any of that actually exists. I sighed to myself and pulled into the driveway. As I stopped the car to open the garage, I saw a man in the rear-view mirror, his hair was long and black as night. He was tall, muscular, with blazing eyes that I couldn’t make out the color of. An indescribable shock of recognition shot through my body and literally made my heart skip a beat. Quickly, I twisted around in my seat.

No one was there... One car drove past, another car went, but no sign of the man… no sign of anyone on the sidewalks really…

That’s it! I’ve gone over the edge. I giggled to myself. I have finally gone nuts.

“I really must be losing it. I have a tumor in my head, that’s it. A tumor. Time for me to make good on my promise to my high school friends and meet them in the loony bin.” I sighed to myself, leaning back in my seat. I checked the rear-view mirror again, kind of hoping to see the puzzling figure again. Even then, still no sign of the rugged man on the street behind me.

“Yap, totally bonkers.” I agreed with myself.

After I pulled into the garage, the rest of the evening went on as every other evening went on. Little brother came home, mom came home, had dinner, and then it was time for bed again. Normal… nothing out of the ordinary.

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"You're like a sister to me."
Those were the actual words that broke the camel's back.
Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other's arms.
I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn't cross.
He wasn't just anyone, he was my brother's best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting.
But that night... we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real...so I begged him to touch me.
To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind.
And he did. He held me like I was something fragile.
Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe.
Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could.
So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain.
Now, five years later, I'm back.
Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold.
And the man waiting for me at the airport isn't my brother.
It's Tristan.
And he's not the guy I left behind.
He's a biker.
An Alpha.
And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.
The mafia princess return

The mafia princess return

748.3k Views · Completed · Tonje Unosen
Talia have been living with her mother, stepsister and Stepfather for years. One day she finally get away from them. Suddenly she learn she have more family out there and she have many people that actually love her, something she have never felt before! At least not as she can remember. She have to learn to trust others, get her new brothers to accept her for who she is!