The Witches of White Willow Read online

  The Witches of White Willow

  Angela Addams

  Contents

  About Witches of White Willow

  Foreward

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Coming Soon

  Acknowledgments

  A Conversation with Angela Addams

  About the Author

  Also by Angela Addams

  Copyright © 2018 by Angela Addams

  Edited by NovelSharp

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  About Witches of White Willow

  Even destiny can't get in the way of what is meant to be.

  Hazel Knight is a Promised One—a witch born with unique magic abilities. As a result, her future is laid out for her. She is to join the Circle and spend the rest of her life meditating, chanting and devoting her healing magic to bolster her fellow witches. It’s a commitment Hazel is proud to make, and she’s just one internship away from fulfilling her destiny.

  But just because Hazel’s committed to her destiny doesn’t mean she can't have some fun before she takes the final step. For the past year, she’s enjoyed many clandestine nights with a man who has given her a lifetime of memories to take with her. A mysterious lover whose name she’s never asked, whose face she’s never fully seen.

  Yet when her internship begins, she has no trouble recognizing Healer Duke Hart, the exquisitely sexy witch whom her mother has handpicked to serve as her mentor.

  Hazel only meant to have a little fun before she devoted herself to a life of servitude, but Duke is bound and determined to prove that nothing, not even destiny, is written in stone.

  For my daughter, Teagan, who introduced me to the TV show that started it all and to my son, Warren, who colored quietly all summer while I was writing this story.

  Humans still do this thing where they celebrate the old ways. They touch the magic, only a wisp of it, but enough to leash them to devotion. They honor the rituals and pay tribute to the Mother, bolstering her power and, by extension, ours too. Most of the time, these humans are better witches than we are. Every once in a while, they’re stronger than we are too.

  Hazel Knight, Promised One Designate

  1

  “So you’re slumming it tonight? For real, Haz? You’re going to ditch me?”

  Hazel snorted lightly as she held up yet another wispy gown. “It’s not slumming, Mahdyia, and yes, I’m definitely going. Wouldn’t miss it. You should come.” But she knew before her cousin barked her disdain that that would never happen.

  “Hang out with the humans?” She made a gagging noise. “Not on your life.” Her voice echoed, the phone on speaker suddenly amplifying in an obnoxious way. “It’s our last night of freedom! How can you do this to me?”

  Last night of freedom. The night of the Spring Moon Festival she’d attended every year since she’d been old enough to get into trouble.

  “What would your mother say?”

  Mahdyia would never say a word to Hazel’s prudish mother and they both knew it. All the same, the threat was enough to make Hazel gasp.

  “Mother won’t find out. She never finds out. She has no interest in human rituals. Besides, I’ve been going for years and I’m not missing this one. It’s fun, Mady. Seriously. A night of drinking, dancing—”

  “And fucking. Yeah I get it.”

  “Making love, under the stars,” Hazel corrected. “You’re acting like I’m some angsty teenager. I’m a grown woman, about to embark on the next phase of my predetermined life. I’m allowed to have a little fun.” She sighed. “I know you had big plans for our last night of freedom but I have to go.”

  “To see him.”

  Hazel’s heart squeezed. Him. He’d texted her to tell her he’d be there. In town for work, he’d said. “It’ll be the last time. Forever. And then you’ll have me by your side, training, working, for the next year of our witchly lives.”

  A silence hung between them. One year was all they had left together.

  “It’s dangerous to play with humans. They could mess with your destiny.” Mahdyia’s tone was mocking, but not in a biting way.

  Hazel knew Mady felt the same about Hazel’s destiny, forged in stone on the night she’d been born, as Hazel herself did at that moment. Shit luck that she had been born into the Knight clan and to one of the most powerful white witches of all time.

  “But it’s such fun,” Hazel tried to keep her voice light. Every moment she got to spend with him was delicious torture because she knew it was fleeting. “I have to say goodbye to him. I can’t leave him wondering forever.”

  “Oh Haz.” Madhya scoffed. “Such a romantic. Fine, go, spend time with your human. See if I care. I’m going to have the time of my life tonight anyway. Don’t be late tomorrow. We have to make a good impression.” She gave a little harsh laugh. “Or at least, I do.”

  “Reputation is everything, darling,” Hazel chirped, mimicking her mother’s tone.

  “Easy for you to say.” Mahdyia made a kissing noise that sounded more like a squawk. “Love ya. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Love ya too. And I plan on doing all the things you wouldn’t do.” She waved her finger and disconnected the call.

  Hazel went back into her closet and pulled down the dress she’d been avoiding. It was stunning with its sheen of gold and slips of gauzy material. It dipped low on her chest, almost showing her nipples, and cinched at the waist, leaving her back exposed as the rest of it cascaded to her toes. And if it caught the right light, like when the ritual fires flickered against the dark night sky, yeah, it was damn near see through.

  Was she bold enough to pull it off?

  It was hardly practical, the chill she’d feel when she danced away from the flames would be unpleasant, especially if the wind was whipping like usual. She’d get it tangled on the low hanging branches and brush as she ran through the woods, chased as a part of their fun and games. He liked hunting her. She liked being hunted. Her dress would snag for sure. But what did it really matter? Before the night was through, he’d have her in his arms and they’d both be naked on the grass, her dress forgotten somewhere along the way. And she wouldn’t need it after tonight.

  She had a year to prepare her body, mind, and skill for her inevitable journey to her destiny. There would be no time, no room, for romantic fantasy, especially not under her mother’s watchful eyes.

  With a sigh, she held the dress up to her frame once again and examined herself in the mirror, a small smile creeping on her lips. Yes, for him, it was worth the snags and chills. One last time.

  The city was off in the distance, blazing with the light of typical modernization. Much of its inhabitants still clung hard to the old
ways, with over eight hundred practicing witches among them. Human witches. The city was nestled in woods so thick you wouldn’t even know it was there if it weren’t for the massive highway connecting it to the rest of the world and the big billboards advertising its existence. A tourist attraction that boasted all sorts of enticing and accessible forms of magic: love spells, fortune telling, crystal healing and perhaps a few curses here and there. They catered to the curious of their kind—humans who wanted to learn about witchcraft and all things Salem. Including the notorious witch trials that had almost ended Hazel’s kind. The humans, even the non-witch ones, paid tribute and honored the fallen. The human witches were harmless dabblers in natural magics, making fistfuls of cash on the tragedy. She didn’t fault them for that. Everyone and everything had a price.

  Hazel felt a chill from her vantage point on the grassy hill, looking down at the twinkling lights of the city. It was the only appealing thing about Salem—the city and its believers, the pulse she got from their worship made her almost giddy. Her mother didn’t value it—the humans were hardly worth her notice, even though they did provide a boost to the Healer’s magic. Her mother felt their power was minor and insignificant, but she’d never ventured outside of the walls of White Willow Hospital, other than to come home and instruct Hazel in all the ways to be a proper white witch. She was a strict woman with high standards, expecting much, maybe too much, from her only daughter.

  Hazel turned, scanning the horizon for White Willow itself. There, off in the distance, it stood, muted lights hazy in the darkness. Only witches of the non-human variety could locate it. A haven for those in need of magical healing, and soon to be her place of residence for the next year. There she’d train before ascending to her role as a Promised One, designate for her mother who was far too important, far too powerful, to ever give up her role as the Great Mother of all Healers.

  Music wafted toward Hazel, floating on the breeze, pulling her from her dark thoughts. Away from the city and from White Willow was a small ceremonial valley where a cluster of cottages stood. She called it The Village—it was where the human witches assembled to celebrate their faith. Only the elders of their kind actually lived there but it was mecca to the city witches and to Hazel as well. The bonfires were already burning in the center of the village. She could see the wisps of flame calling to her.

  Her dress billowed behind her, the wind tickling her thighs. He was waiting for her. Somewhere down there where the fires were warm and the music was loud, where the wine flowed and the food was laid out. He was there, she knew it by the flutter of her heart. She lowered her mask, covering most of her face, as was the custom for the festival. With a jolt of excitement, she picked up her dress, freed her legs, and ran down the dirt path, her feet barely touching ground.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His breath on the back of her neck made her shiver in a delicious way.

  She swayed backward, feeling the warmth of his body just behind her. “You’ve never actually seen me,” she teased.

  He chuckled softly as he lowered his lips to her neck, sending another sweep of pleasure over her. Goosebumps rose all over her body. Somehow, even though he was barely touching her, he noticed. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

  On a sigh, Hazel turned, closing the small distance between them as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest, inhaling his scent. Sandalwood, mint, maybe a bit of vanilla. “No, not anymore.”

  His long dark hair was tied into a ponytail, the tips swishing against her forearms. “Mmm.” She could feel his heart hammering as he wrapped his arms around her, encircling her with strength and warmth. “Your dress is very impractical for this weather.”

  She pulled away just enough to look up at him, his face shielded by his own mask. He had a wry smirk on his lips.

  “Would it be better if I was covered in dowdy cotton?”

  He licked his lips. “It would be better if you were covered in me.”

  She could have giggled with giddiness. His mask only revealed full lips, a strong chin and dark sparkling eyes, glinting with wicked intentions. “So you missed me then?” she teased again. He made her feel so alive. So cherished.

  “I think about you every day. All day.” He leaned into her, his lips brushing hers so tenderly. “Yes, I missed you.”

  And then he really kissed her. His tongue lunging deep, stroking her, loving her, making her want to gasp and moan. He gripped her ass, urging her to lift her legs to wrap around his waist as he hoisted her up. Her breasts pressed hard against his chest, nipples aching, heart pounding.

  This was how it always was. A flame that never seemed to diminish, no matter how many days passed between their visits.

  How she would go without him for the rest of her life, she didn’t know.

  He moved them away, to their secret spot shielded in the woods, and worshiped her body. Licking her every inch as he slowly dismantled her dress, slipping parts away to expose her flesh to his roving lips and tongue. Every spot he touched tingled with pleasure. When he sucked hard on her nipples, laving them then nipping, cupping her breasts with his palm before flicking with his fingers, she was on fire. He slipped the dress down her body, then nestled between her thighs to lick and stroke there too, sucking so hard on her clit that she exploded with a loud cry of pleasure.

  And she did the same to him. Wound him up, rung him out. His cock was long and thick. Her lips were barely able to wrap around the width and no way was she taking his shaft all the way down. He was a big man in general—six foot four at least, with a broad muscled chest, like he worked out, or worked hard. His skin was olive, sun-kissed with no tan lines. Dark hair curled lightly around his nipples, trailing down in a line to that fine cock. She liked to take him down to the back of her throat, not all the way down, he was much too big for that, but as far as she dared while cupping his balls. She loved to make him moan and writhe beneath her. Especially when she replaced her mouth with her pussy, riding him hard and fast under the blanket of stars.

  They made love for hours, her orgasms shattering her each and every time, making her forget, if only for a bit, that she was meant for greater things. Things beyond human understanding. Heartbreaking things that demanded sacrifice, great sacrifice. For those blissful moments, she couldn’t think what could possibly be greater than this.

  She lay panting in his arms, her body feeling light, a sheen of sweat making her shiver. “It’s always so amazing with you. You make me feel really good.” She knew she shouldn’t gush, that it made her sound young and inexperienced. Which she was, really, since the encounters she’d had with him were the only ones she’d ever had—the only ones she would ever have. He had this way with her, making her feel cherished and exotic, beautiful and loved, just with his body. With his penetrating eyes and his tender lips.

  He sighed deeply, running his fingers up and down her arm. “I feel the same way. I wish we could stay like this forever.”

  Her heart clenched. They didn’t have forever. What a stark reminder. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again quickly. What would she say? What could she tell him? Despite the fact that he was a practicing Pagan, and wore a forearm tattoo that branded him so, it was forbidden for her to tell any human about her witchy status. It could put White Willow at risk. Humans had turned on them once before. Even though she believed he never would, she couldn’t confide in him about being the Promised One. Not that. Not ever.

  “I’m in town for a while. The coven is preparing for a solstice celebration.” He gripped her tight and pulled her almost on top of him, his cock growing hard at the slight touch. “You could just stay here until then.”

  Summer Solstice was in a matter of days. Despite the fact that she would be so close, hidden away at White Willow, she wouldn’t be able to get away, not even for a few hours. Disappointment crushed her. He’d never stayed longer than one night at a time usually. “I’m sorry. I won’t be able to get away again
for a while.” It felt like her heart was shattering.

  His fingers stilled, he released his grip and her body slid back down to his side. “Sweetheart, I know that something is wrong, I can feel it. Be honest with me. Is there someone else?”

  Yes. My mother. “No.” She raised her head and turned, propping herself on her elbow so she could look down at him. “I have…” She searched for the right words. “A family obligation.”

  “Your mother again?”

  She’d told him only a little about her mother’s controlling ways, trying to paint herself as a normal human girl. It was often her mother who prevented her from attending various ceremonies anyway. She could only sneak out unnoticed at certain times, when her mother was consumed with other very important things. Otherwise she kept her life very secret, like her identity. She and her lover didn’t even know each other’s names, texting only when they could sneak away to see one another.

  “You should tell that woman to shove her obligation up her—”

  “Let’s not talk about her.” Hazel leaned down and gave him a soft kiss.

  “She’s controlling, manipulative, from what you’ve told me—”

  She opened her mouth over his, licking him, stroking him, silencing him. He moaned. She reached down to stroke his growing erection, his tip slick with a mixture of her cream and his.