Witch Trilogy I: Alinta Devereaux

Witch Trilogy I: Alinta Devereaux

Bloody Iron

5.0
Comment(s)
362
View
33
Chapters

Alinta Devereaux is the next successor to the throne of the Hex Kingdom. As the heir apparent, her father trained her to become a successful and mighty queen. However, everything changes because of one wrong move she and her sister made. Transported into an unknown world because of a spell from their grandmother's grimoire, Alinta found herself in a very different world. The world of werewolves, where women were forced to accept more than one mate. As a woman from a monogamous world, she found her surroundings odd and weird. And she adamantly chose to stick with her norm. However, as a powerful alpha forcibly mated her, her patience started crumbling. What to do with a man who keeps forcing her to mate with others? Kill? Run away? Or should she just compromise?

Chapter 1 Grandma's Grimoire

ALINTA DEVEREAUX

The birds were chirping, and the leaves were dancing. As usual, the atmosphere in the Land of Hex was dazzling. The sun shone brightly, almost blinding one eye. And the sky was never dark. At least, not in a long time since I was born.

The witches and wizards in the massive and chilly (literally) castle of the Devereaux Royal Family were seriously attending their work. At least, that's how they were supposed to get on with their work. If I hadn't overheard one or two, or maybe there were five--

---- alright ----

---- several witches and wizards gathered in a secluded area to gossip about certain topics, mostly royalties (past and present). I probably still believed their emotionless faces whenever I came across them.

There was a time I once got lost inside the castle (despite having lived here for nearly fifty years) and was surprised to hear the words 'Her Grace' referring to my mother. As I kept listening, I discovered a shocking event that nearly knocked my jaw to the ground. I couldn't believe my mother, gentle and kind and always reminded me not to let my emotions take over my rationality, had nearly destroyed the land. She exuded tranquillity and peace to me. It was difficult to imagine my mother acting like a crazy jealous woman who tried to kill her future husband several times.

To begin with, my father was not a good man. He used to enjoy playing with different women who always had his attention when he was younger. Then he unconsciously fell in love with my mother. They got together, and as he was unwilling to admit his feelings, he broke my mother's heart. That was the point at which my mother went insane. Then, my father finally recognized his feelings and courted my mother again.

Not feeling touched nor moved, it took almost a thousand years before my mother finally and reluctantly accepted him. I finally understood why my father was such a puppy in front of my mother. He never defied her wishes.

Nonetheless, after hearing such gossip from those witches and wizards, I frequently visit their gathering places without their knowledge to broaden my horizons.

And anyway, it was supposed to be a good day--- a very appropriate day for a much more satisfying sleep. If not for my second sister's nagging, today would have been a perfect day.

"Come on, that's only a minor spell. What can it do to us?" my second sister said for the seventh time. It's irritating me. Her constant babbling and her sweet voice annoyed my ears. Most people in our kingdom praised her as the charming second princess capable of brightening the gloomy atmosphere. I don't care about their judgment, but they seemed to exaggerate most of the time. My second sister does nothing except annoy me rather than improve my mood.

Although others considered her my second sister, we were, in fact, twins. I just arrived in this world one minute before she did. Despite being twins, however, we have nothing in common. Nieva has crystal hair, whereas I have a blazing one. I was the fire, and she was the ice. We are contradictory. The same was true for our personalities.

"I don't have time for your ridiculous request. Get lost," I muttered, weary. Today was supposed to be my day off from royal duties. I was about to fall asleep when the stupid girl banged the door open. The sleep I had barely managed to achieve was gone in an instant.

As the eldest child, I was supposed to inherit the throne. Because of this, and believing I was of suitable age, my father had kept me awake for the previous nights, educating me to be a capable ruler. I had no idea if I had succeeded in impressing my father. However, after about a year, he finally gave me the rest I deserved. One day and one night of relaxation, to be exact.

Nieva refused to budge. I didn't expect her to. Perhaps because my voice was not frightening enough or because it did not convey the wrath I was supposed to have. Instead, she dropped the grimoire next to my face on my bed. She then hopped on, causing the soft bed to bounce.

"Come on, just once, and I'll be out of your room!" she promised.

I groaned. I buried my face in my pillow and groaned once again. After weighing the pros and cons, I decided to make a compromise. I sat down and fixed my gaze on Nieva. "Just once, and you'll leave. Whether the spell works or not, you'll leave me alone. Otherwise..." I trailed off, my tone of voice threatening.

Nieva only shrugged. When I didn't move, she nodded.

Seeing that she was obedient, I ignored her and glanced at the grimoire. This grimoire was something our mother inherited from our eccentric grandma. The elderly lady despised everything except this book. Even our mother couldn't compete with this one spell book. I remembered how our grandmother unleashed thunder and lightning bolts from her rage merely because she thought the grimoire was lost. My sister and I, the accused culprits, almost died from fear. We never touched anything in her house after that, lest she accused us again when anything got missing.

However, our 'good' grandmother mysteriously vanished 70 years ago, leaving this grimoire in the care of our mother, which we occasionally stole for our amusement.

"Which spell do you want to try?" I inquired as I flipped through the pages. One page equates to one spell. Because we're still young, performing the spells in this book necessitates the participation of both of us. Otherwise, Nieva would do it herself.

Yes. At the age of exactly 100, we were still considered young. Our lifespan extends to eternity.

My mother trained for less than five centuries before our grandmother allowed her to become a full-fledged witch. Initially, spells and curses were hard to comprehend and perform. It also takes plenty of effort to master drawing energy from nature without using a medium. As a result, it took centuries of hard work for our mother to learn everything.

"This one," she replied, pointing to a specific page.

Reading it, I find myself having difficulty comprehending its content. I could read it, but none of the words made sense. A dreadful feeling suddenly crept up in my chest. Something inside me told me not to join Nieva in her foolishness.

"The last time we executed a spell from this book, we blew the castle to smithereens," I mumbled, recalling the first and only time we used grandma's grimoire. It was a great disaster. Not only did our father punish us, but our sweet mother also reprimanded us. Ergo, we rebuilt the castle entirely by ourselves, without the help of magic. We eventually finished reconstructing it after fifty years. Such absurd activity wasted half of our current age.

"Err..." Nieva winced. She appeared to be traumatized as well. But her determination quickly returned.

I have to applaud my sister for her naivete and tenacity. It would undoubtedly lead to her demise sooner or later.

"What prompted you to cast this spell?" I inquired curiously. I'm already out of bed, getting ready. Then, I cast a spell. My nightgown instantly changed into my usual dark red outfit.

"The spell seems interesting," Nieva answered, her eyes wide with anticipation. "It's different from the others. I like to try it. We're already grownups. And we are more powerful now than when we were 60 years ago. I don't think we'd blow up the castle again if we ever failed."

Alright. I agreed by nodding. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued. I enjoy challenges, after all. If I hadn't been exhausted from my royal duties, I would have stolen this book and cast the spell myself.

As witches, who came from royal bloodlines, we didn't need a medium to do the spell. Our energy was sufficient. So, after preparing ourselves, Nieva and I held hands. We closed our eyes and began gathering energy from the world to emerge with our own. Then we both recited the spell at the same time.

Seconds became minutes, and minutes became half an hour. My breath ragged, and my body began to sweat. As pain penetrated my head, it started to swell. I could also feel my insides heating up.

My sister's hands were wet as if they were submerged in water, as were mine. When I thought we weren't going to make it, a surge of energy sprang out of nowhere, slamming Nieva and me against the wall.

I shook my head, attempting to alleviate my dizziness but failed. Then, I tried to look up, searching for Nieva. However, a black hole met my vision instead.

I stilled.

There was nothing but darkness as it continued to approach me. Then, the instant the black hole devoured me, my energy ran out, and my vision turned black.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!

Revealing My Secret Identities! My Bros Are Speechless!

Zhen Xiang
5.0

For seventeen years, I was the crown jewel of the Kensington empire, the perfect daughter groomed for a royal future. Then, a cream-colored envelope landed in my lap, bearing a gold crest and a truth that turned my world into ice. The DNA test result was a cold, hard zero percent-I wasn't a Kensington. Before the ink could even dry, my parents invited my replacement, a girl named Alleen, into the drawing room and treated me like a trespasser in my own home. My mother, who once hosted galas in my honor, wouldn't even look me in the eye as she stroked Alleen's arm, whispering that she was finally "safe." My father handed me a one-million-dollar check-a mere tip for a billionaire-and told me to leave immediately to avoid tanking the company's stock price. "You're a thief! You lived my life, you spent my money, and you don't get to keep the loot!" Alleen shrieked, trying to claw the designer jacket off my shoulders while my "parents" watched with clinical detachment. I was dumped on a gritty sidewalk in Queens with nothing but three trunks and the address of a struggling laborer I was now supposed to call "Dad." I traded a marble mansion for a crumbling walk-up where the air smelled of exhaust and my new bedroom was a literal storage closet. My biological family thought I was a broken princess, and the Kensingtons thought they had successfully erased me with a payoff and a non-disclosure agreement. They had no idea that while I was hauling trunks up four flights of stairs, my secret media empire was already preparing to move against them. As I sat on a thin mattress in the dark, I opened my encrypted laptop and sent a single command that would cost my former father ten million dollars by breakfast. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves, but they forgot one thing: I'm the one who leads the pack.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

Jessica C. Dolan
4.9

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

SHANA GRAY
4.5

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book