Witch’s
Cursed Circle Collection
5 BOOKS IN 1
EVELYN COOPER
Witches
Witch’s – Cursed Circle Collection
Silver Willow Publishing
Copyright © 2020 Evelyn Cooper
All Rights Reserved
Other Titles from Evelyn Cooper
Witch’s Cursed Circle Collection
Inclusive of Books 1 - 5
Witch’s - The Circle of Time – Book One: ASIN: B085TL7FWF
Witch’s – Arcane Witch’s Powers – Book Two: ASIN: B087JCNTW9
Witch’s Wishes – Book Three: ASIN: B088HHQFX
Witch’s Checkmate – Book Four: ASIN: B088PY26NR
Witch’s Circle of Truth – Book Five: ASIN: B08965M81Y
A British Author based in the beautiful Cotswolds, UK.
Written in British English with a hint of Welsh!
Copyright 2020 by Evelyn Cooper and Silver Willow Publishing. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the Author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the Author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Dedicated To
Binksy Magic & Little Man El Bobbiarrow
TABLE OF CONTENTS
WITCH’S CURSED CIRCLE
Chapter 1: Vanished Poetry
Chapter 2: Dance With The Devil
Chapter 3: Happy Retrograde Birthday
Chapter 4: Just A Bad Dream… I Think
Chapter 5: Resurrection?
ARCANE WITCH’S POWERS
Chapter 1: Instigator
Chapter 2: Catalyst
Chapter 3: Blood And Moon
Chapter 4: Moonlight Lake
Chapter 5: Scarlet Moon
WITCH’S WISHES
Chapter 1: A Weapon
Chapter 2: The History In Smoke
Chapter 3: Speaking Of The Devil
Chapter 4: A Piece Of The Past
Chapter 5: The Curse Of The Circle
WITCH’S CHECKMATE
Chapter 1: The Black Queen
Chapter 2: The Black King
Chapter 3: The Knights
Chapter 4: The Bishops
Chapter 5: The Rooks
WITCH’S CIRCLE OF TRUTH
Chapter 1: The Whole Truth
Chapter 2: The Witch Of Wishes
Chapter 3: To Deceive Is To Be Deceived
Chapter 4: An Overdue Apology
Chapter 5: The Gate
Chapter 6: Maybe
About The Author
WITCH’S CURSED CIRCLE
WITCH’S CURSED CIRCLE SERIES – BOOK 1
EVELYN COOPER
Chapter 1
Vanished Poetry
It was beyond weird. My forehead creased as I read the letter. Wasn’t this supposed to be an invitation to a ball?
A world where the flowers bloom
The wind blows gently
The goddesses caress
Wings that carry the feet
Harps embrace
Melodies flow
The water sings
Trees sway
In the meadow, we will lay
Will you come with me
As we begin to fulfil the promise
Of what was left in between?
“Darling, that face you’re making right now, stop it. It’s just a dance. You don’t have to put so much thought into it.” Ryia took another sip of her Chamomile tea without giving me much of a glance. I couldn’t understand why this was not a big deal to her.
“Ryia, have you read this? It’s saying weird things I can’t explain. And it’s not saying anything at all about the dance.”
She spared me a sideways glance, and I wanted to cross the room and shake her shoulders until she saw why this is weird. It knew it wasn’t just me!
“It’s talking about laying in a meadow... a meadow, Ryia! Do people lie in the meadow when they attend fancy balls these days?”
Secretly, my question was a little sincere. I’ve never been invited to one of these things. I had dreamed of powdering my face and climbing into a gorgeous dress before being whisked away into the night to dance holes into my shoes.
Ryia, on the other hand, was invited to every ball. Every single one. I, however, had to stay home and pretend to be blissfully unaware of how much of an embarrassment I was to her, the infamous white witch, cursed to bloodline relations with a powerless mongrel like me.
I frantically looked for the envelope in the living room where I tore it open. Even though the cryptic poem was something to be confused about, I really needed to confirm that this was an invitation for me and not my sister. The person in charge of sending out the invitations must have gotten the recipient’s name wrong or something. I was fairly certain that was exactly what was going on.
“Liliwen, you’re invited to a masquerade ball. The invitation said it outright. There’s nothing to decipher.” Her melodic voice was tinged with slight annoyance as she sauntered soundlessly into the living room. This time she stared at me with an obvious impatience from the frame of the arch-shaped doorway.
“I know what it says,” I pouted at her, “but why? Why was it addressed to me and not you?”
I finally found the envelope with calligraphy scribbled on its face with as much flair and flamboyance as can be expected from the Wiccans. I read the salutations again and still confused me: “To Liliwen Alwyn”.
“Is it really that hard to believe that someone took notice of you and decided you should be included in the ball?”
Yes. Yes, it really was.
“Um, Ryia, I am a witch without any witchy powers. I might as well be just an ordinary human. What benefit will they gain from having ME at this party?”
Her eyes reached for the heavens before she heaved a deep sigh. It seemed she’d had enough of my scepticism. Her eyes disappeared behind powdered lids, and the room went so silent, I could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the other room. Even when doing nothing, it still struck me how much of a majestic beauty my older sister was.
For as long as I could remember, I’d always wished to have her natural blonde hair that so perfectly complemented her emerald eyes. I hoped that I could smile as sweetly as her one day, but most of all, I wish I could be as useful to everyone as she is.
But that’s not how it is.
I am anything but a useful witch. I can’t do anything.
Nothing that witches should be able to do. I am the talentless witch. The blight on my family’s good name. The greatest disappointment of the ancestors. I had been declared a witch by virtue of bloodline and ancestry approval. Still, I had waited my entire life for the manifestation of the supposed ancestral wisdom to absolutely no avail.
Which brought me right back to the cryptic nonsense of the clearly ill-addressed letter.
Not only had I received an invitation, but Ryia, for the very first time in the history of forever, had not.
After a few minutes of being silently still, Ryia suddenly started towards me. She snatched the letter from my fingers and read it with emphasis.
“To Lady Liliwen Alwyn: We cordially invite you to join us in a gathering of merriment and elegance at the Penrhyn Mansion tonight at 6th of the evening.” She slightly tilted her head in my direction and raised her brows as if asking, “What’s not clear here?”
A strangled sigh escapes my lips, and I try a different approach, “Okay then, fine. What about the poem?”
Her brows creased as
they dragged downwards in response, “What poem?”
“The poem below,” I took the letter from her to point out the mysterious poem written at the bottom of the page, except there was no poem.
It had vanished entirely.
“I don’t know if you’re just confusing what you’ve read with that fairy tale you’re always reading. But there is no poem, Liliwen.”
I stared at the blank space at the bottom of the page that only moments ago had lines of confusion written on it.
Did I just imagine that lengthy poem?
“I swear there was some sort of a poem here,” I whispered, taking the letter from her and turning it over repeatedly in search of the missing lines.
“Quit your muttering and follow me. We should go and prepare your dress. I will not have you bring any more shame on our family by appearing in tattered rugs to the ball.”
I could hear my sister’s footsteps as she turned gracefully on her heels and headed to my room, leaving me still standing in the centre of the room like a chastised child holding this life-changing letter in my hands.
I knew it may have seemed to her that I was just surprised that someone finally noticed me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was. But my gut told me that something was definitely bizarre about all of it. And whether it’s my human or my witch gut, I knew that it was right.
* * * *
On the night of the ball, the moonlight highlighted the grand Penrhyn Mansion located at the end of the town, embraced by the forest trees. From inside the cab, my eyes could only marvel on the beautifully tended flower garden just past the large black gate at the entrance. The blue roses bathed the lush greenery of the bushes like a blanket of sky, all along the driveway and I tried and failed to mask my delighted smile as fireflies danced in my chest.
When the cab pulled to a silent stop, the chaperone, decked out in a steam-pressed black suit that made him look somewhat like a penguin offered me his gloved hand.
“Thank you,” I smiled politely at him, still unsure of all the rules and conventions I was expected to follow at a place like this. I had only half-listened to Ryia as she prattled on and on about etiquette and everything in between, but I had grown far too anxious to take any proper note.
I took his hand, trying my best to look graceful as I carefully lifted the hem of my black dress that seemed to glitter and shine with every swish of movement. By all accounts, the dress was beautiful. I’m relieved my sister did not insist on that red dress with a dragging train. I would quite certainly make a spectacle of myself dragging that around.
The masked chaperone led me up the cobbled walkway up to the grand oak doors of the mansion that stood at almost 20 feet tall. An enormous gold chandelier welcomed us in the receiving hall. My eyes dazzled as I tried not to look like a complete human in these hallowed halls. The windows started from the ground and were more like doors than windows. Full white curtains lined the walls and gently swayed in the light night breeze as we made our way into the grand ballroom.
The moment I stepped in the room, an inexplicable sensation suddenly ran through me like a painless electric jolt coursing through my veins. The hairs on my neck stood at ends as my skin flushed with subtle chill bumps.
This was unquestionably a place of great magic, and everything inside me screamed that I did not belong here.
I could feel the chaperone prying his fingers away from my hand, and only then did I realise that I had been squeezing his hand since we entered the ballroom. When his hand was free, he bowed to me, then quickly left.
The room was more significant than the town square it seemed and was awash with a beautiful sea of colours from the masked personalities speaking their social status through the exquisite cuts and embellishments of their elegant ball gowns and suits.
Desperately, I start searching for a familiar face, or at the very least a familiar pair of eyes, not that I even knew a lot of people in town.
The unfamiliar buzzing coursing through me continued long after I entered the room. I wanted nothing more than to turn and run away from this posh display of all that I was not, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of telling Ryia that I had thrown away the only “good thing” that had happened in my social life. So, I stayed and did the next best thing.... I hugged myself.
The white gloves embracing me didn’t do much to help calm this unsettling feeling, but I hugged tighter anyways.
The verbal catastrophe taking place in my head seemed to grow with every passing second.
‘Maybe if you had friends and actually went out to social gatherings, you wouldn’t be on the verge of a panic attack now.’
I tried and failed to silence the sceptic in my head, but that only made her bolder.
‘Maybe you shouldn’t have come in the first place. This is no place for someone like you. The opulence of this place and the people are way out of your league.’
I’m about to hit myself in the head to silence the voices when I’m interrupted by a gentle tap on my shoulder.
“Ms Liliwen, is it?” an unfamiliar voice greeted. I turned to face a blonde man whose mask didn’t cover his full face. I could see his hazel eyes trying to suck the air from my lungs and his soft pink lips that stretched into a smile, revealing perfectly aligned shining white teeth that almost outshone my glittering dress.
His presence rendered me speechless.
I tried to answer, but my voice wrapped itself hopelessly around my vocal cords and refused to leave my throat. I wanted to follow through with that head slap or face-palm at my embarrassing display of inexperience the first minute I arrived.
“You look dazzling,” He smirked at me.
Heat rose to my cheeks, and my voice unwrapped itself from my throat only to burrow its way into my chest.
“I’m glad you joined the party. It was getting boring without you.” He graces me with another dashing smile.
‘Who the blazes is this man?’
The way he spoke to me with familiarity bothered me. Was he one of the guys my sister warned me about?
That part of her lecture had not escaped me.
“Don’t play by the bait of suits that are out to get women in their bed,” She had said in a stern voice followed by a worried look. “You’re worth more than that.”
I couldn’t believe my ears when she said that, nor was I about to believe them when Mr.Dazzling Canines showered me with compliments.
I shouldn’t have come here. It’s becoming much more evident with every bang in my chest. The buzzing has not stopped, my palms are clamming up, and my knees are ready to run. As I lifted my dress to leave the orchestra started to play. Everybody began to move towards the centre of the room, and the crowd took me along with it. I struggled to move forward, but that failed. Backwards yielded only fractionally more results, so I go with it. I started to back-pedal my way out of the crowd until my back hit against a very firm chest.
I turned to voice my apologies but quickly realised it was the same guy from only seconds ago.
“I think it’s best to go with the flow this time, don’t you think?” He offered his hand to me, politely asking me to dance.
My confidence in my dancing skill is about the same as my confidence in my being able to turn a pumpkin into a carriage which is very non-existent.
But, I did a quick evaluation of the situation, and I had somehow wound up back in the dead centre of this crowd with seemingly no way out. I would try to keep his toes safe, and my dress unripped, but I would dance. Besides, that was the whole point of coming to a ball, was it not? Why else would I be here?
His smile seemed reassuring enough, and I could tell from his wink that he knew I wasn’t a great dancer. He took my right hand into his and placed the left on his shoulder.
With the waltz music flowing around the room, I found myself captivated and carried away by the mysterious masked man as we danced. All my previous worries and suspicions of him slowly faded away as the music crescendoed, and I allowed myself for the first
time since exiting the cab to relax and enjoy the company of a seemingly genuine and decent man.
Chapter 2
Dance with the Devil
I was wrong. There was nothing decent about him. As the music swelled and the air became lighter, I found myself face to face with a strange reality. My attention was dragged to the floor by a glaring red-lined circle that had somehow formed around me without me noticing.
In an instant, I was suddenly aware that everyone was watching me. It’s the same kind of heavy pit-in-the-stomach ordeal that befalls you before someone jumps from behind a tree and scares the bile out of you.
The buzzing had intensified, and I found myself shaking as I stood utterly stricken and unable to move in the centre of the circle. My eyes darted around the room, pleading frantically for help.
It wasn’t until he released my hand and joined the crowd that had all stepped away from me, away from the circle, that I realised what had happened.
They all looked at me, and through the slits in their masks, I could see amusement and wonder in their eyes.
“The performance is about to begin,” my mysterious dance partner announced with a menacing grin, both his arms outstretched towards the high ceilings as his voice echoed through the hall.
A round of applause thundered through the room, and my heart clawed desperately at my chest, frantically seeking an exit.
The red lines glowed, and I watched in dismay as Fae symbols appeared inside the circle. I should have recognised the dance flow. I should have known that this was a ritual and not a simple waltz sequence.
It was so damn basic for witches to recognise the Witches’ Waltz and yet, I was too distracted by this stranger even to tell. Now here I was, at the mercy of these strangers.
Am I meant to be their entertainment?
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