Witch's Wishes: Short Stories - Book Three - Witch's The Cursed Circle Series (Witch's Cursed Circle 3) Read online

  WITCH’S WISHES

  WITCH’S CURSED CIRCLE SERIES – BOOK 3

  EVELYN COOPER

  Witches

  Witch’s Wishes

  Witch’s – Cursed Circle Series – Book Three

  Silver Willow Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 Evelyn Cooper

  All Rights Reserved

  First UK Edition – April 2020

  A British Author based in the Cotswolds UK - Written in Britsh English with a hint of Welsh!

  Other Titles in the Cursed Circle Series

  Witch’s - The Circle of Time – Book One – ASIN: BO85TL7FWF

  Witch’s - Arcane Powers – Book Two – ASIN: B087JCNTW9

  Witch’s Wishes – Book Three

  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

  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

  Book 4: Preview

  Chapter 1

  A Weapon

  No!

  I never wanted this to happen.

  The shadow of death that draped itself over the three men who risked their lives for me still lingered like a sheet, waiting to wrap around me in its deceptive embrace

  My heart longed to grieve the shocking and horrifying loss of the men who saved my life. The men who tried to shield me while opening my eyes to the truth. Men who at first had terrified me, only to lay down their lives later to save a stranger. Everything inside me begged for the weak response of the mind-controlled witch, but the newly resurrected witch inside me won’t allow it.

  There’s a voice in the back of my mind shouting at me.

  “Stand up. Look straight ahead. Keep moving forward. That is the only way for you to live.”

  I want to reason with her, but she remains adamant. Determined to see this whole farce through to the end. Her stern voice resounds within me, calling me to arms for a war I still do not fully understand. She summons a strength I didn’t even know I had. She reminds me of someone I must have known in one of my former lives, but I can’t seem to place her.

  “You have no time to weep for the fallen. Rise and never yield to despair. You must bear this pain and charge ahead Liliwen. That is who we are. That is what we do. No matter what, do not stop moving forward.”

  I have no idea what she’s talking about! But she’s convinced me that I have what it takes, so I gather whatever amount of will there is left within me to stand up on my wobbly legs and march miserably behind Liliwen

  I wrapped my arms around myself, in a desperate attempt to control my trembling body, offering myself the only solace and comfort I know I’ll be getting. White witch Ryia had very little comfort to offer me, so I do not expect this homicidal Arcane maniac to show me any kindness either. Never matter. I do not need her false sisterly affections. I do not need to siphon her strength.

  Not anymore.

  That’s right. Show no weakness.

  There must be a reason why these three protected me at the cost of their lives when they could have just simply handed me over to this witch.

  I let myself believe that there might be something they want me to do—or something they want from me— if they were willing to die just to keep me from the hands of Ryia... from the hands of the coven, Bran had mentioned. I need to find a way to figure out what this coven is without raising any suspicion, but Bran and Dain went. I have no idea what my first move will be. I imagine after being chewed out by the Minister of Defense, Ryia isn’t about to let me out of her sight anytime soon.

  Just my luck.

  I should have asked more sensible questions back at the mansion when I had the chance. Here I am now, with not enough to go on and a wanna-be sister that is out for blood.

  I don’t care. I have to find a way to come out on top. I will not let their deaths be in vain.

  I suddenly remembered what the woman told Bran in the surreal conversation in the bedroom at the mansion, and I can suddenly relate.

  “This is me doing my part.”

  I need to do my part. It may not be an ideal situation, but maybe, after years of thinking that I’m useless and looking for my own purpose, I finally found my own part to play.

  In my heart, I’m no longer the powerless witch, sister of this Liliwen persona. I’m not the dirt on the Alwyn family’s name, but a part that made the coven think it was necessary to remove all my memories.

  Because... why else would they go through the effort of keeping me in check yearly?

  The newfound determination gave me the strength to take steps forward, treading the bloody pathway.

  No.

  I won’t look down.

  It will only remind me of what I lost tonight.

  I keep my eyes on the path ahead where I see the back of the woman who is like a warden to me.

  “You can’t keep walking behind her forever. Now, that you know who she really is, there’s nothing that should hold you back from doing what you want to, and escape her grip...

  This is my new objective. I will escape this madness, but before I do that, I have to uncover the reason behind the years of their manipulation, erasure, and alterations in my brain.

  It’s too early to reveal my cards when all I have is the knowledge that there’s a game being played. If I make that known, I’m sure they’ll find a way to remedy the situation, and I’d have made an enemy out of Ryia for sure. I’m not yet ready for all of that. There’s too much to learn.

  So, I’ve decided to keep on playing house with her until I get what I want.

  The still silence of the forest gives way to the sound of the determination pounding in my heart as we take the dark and treacherous path “home”.

  ****

  I’ve been staring into the abyss for hours. There’s a ball of pain welling up inside my chest that, try as I may, I can’t seem to shake.

  My legs are sprawled on the floor as my body leans against the frame of the bed.

  The silence in the room had enticed my mind to drift to the bad memory of death. And this heavy feeling of loss had taken over since then.

  There’s a constant war between the stern voice in my head and my grieving soul, but, it’s obvious which one is winning.

  The multiple trips to the bathroom gave no relief to whatever was twisting inside my stomach. I’m amazed that there’s anything but bile and water there given that I haven’t eaten anything for the last five days. Not even during my dinner with Bran and Dain.

  If only I had known that was meant to be my only dinner with them...

  Regret joined the turmoil of emotions whirling around inside me as if the agony was not already enough.

  Keep moving forward, huh?

  I couldn’t magically transform myself to be a steel-willed woman. Not after the many years, I’ve spent being told I’m weak and worth nothing. Not when I’m the witch with the low-as-hell self-esteem.
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br />   The sudden pounding on the door grabbed my attention and yanked me away from the ledge in my head.

  “How long do you plan on locking yourself in there, Lili?” The agitated voice behind the door claws its way up my skin and threatens to rip me open, but despite my sorrow and my need to grieve, I can’t seem to find the part of me that once cared about anything Liliwen has to say or how she’s trying to make me feel.

  There was a quick click coming from my door, and the next thing I know, she’s already inside. Her right-hand rests on her waist as she stares impatiently at me with a raised brow. Her nightgown was as scarlet as the blood she spilled tonight, and I find myself wondering if perhaps she had taken one of her white witch robes back to the forest and bathed in the blood of her fallen enemies. That somehow wouldn’t surprise me.

  Her nonchalant impatience is distasteful considering the circumstances. It’s unsettling how unbothered she is about the fact that she just spent the night on a murderous crusade.

  The scenes of the bloody night flashed in my mind again, and I was forced to turn away before I threw up all over her bloodstained gown.

  “Liliwen!” once again, her demanding voice echoed throughout the room.

  I slowly turned my head and looked up at her. The irritated crease on her forehead taunting me to tell her how much of a failure she was. To repeat the words, the Minister of Defense had spat at her. To let her know that I know… instead, I say nothing.

  “Why on earth are you moping around? Does your sympathy lie with your kidnappers?” her eyes narrow at me with suspicion.

  I feel no obligation to answer, and I can see my blank stare pushing her to the brink of her patience.

  “This is just pathetic! They kidnapped you, Lili. Kidnapped! And you still have the heart to feel for them? What is wrong with you?” She scoffs at me and rolls her eyes.

  Ever since my eyes were opened to the truth, I’ve harboured nothing but hate in my heart for this vile creature standing before me, parading around this asinine persona of the sisterly witch. The hatred intensifies with each moment, each word, each breath and I can’t help but wonder if perhaps, this hatred is not new. Perhaps it lay dormant in the parts of my brain corrupted by them. Maybe I’ve always hated this witch and this coven. Maybe we’re as far away from being sisters as we are from being friends. It does make for an interesting concept, and it must be hell for her if that’s the case. I find myself taking comfort in the possibilities.

  “Don’t tell me... The reason you’re feeling this way is that you’ve connived with them?”

  The accusation triggered something within me, and I can feel her. I can feel her fingers inside me, pushing through the cracks, trying to rip this useless act to shreds and steamroll this putrid menace right where she stands, looking down at me.

  “Answer me, Lili,” the demand in her voice is a rope she latches on to and pulls herself out from inside me. I could feel a switch inside me flip. Strange confidence, a burning rage bubbles up inside my chest, and I stood up, all wobbling gone from my feet, all trembling erased from my voice, all fear gone from my heart. I face her with a deep scowl on my face, without flinching under her sharp glare, and when the words poured out of my mouth, I knew it was her.

  “You killed those men tonight right before my eyes. You had no regard for whatever horrible experience I will go through when you held me in place with whatever bullshit binding spell you used and let me witness the murder, you so callously executed, and now you have the nerve to enter the only place inside this house that I can call my own; the only privacy I have with your loud judgment and sharp persecution?”

  It was that woman’s voice.

  “You dare to enter my room and accuse me...”

  Holy crap Lili this has to stop. You’ll give yourself away.

  For a moment, I could see doubt and a slight trace of panic bleed into her eyes as she stares impassively at me. I could see her wondering if her memory wiping spell had worked and the last thing I want right now is for her to check. I wouldn’t know how to fake that, so I decide to shift gears. I swallow the bitterness building up in my throat, and I assume the role of the weakling she wants me to be.

  I threw my hands over my mouth in wide-eyed surprise and rush over to where she stood, throwing my arms around her, “I-I’m sorry, Ryia. I don’t know why I just said that. I’m still so shaken up by the whole thing; I wasn’t thinking straight. I know everything you do is to protect me, to protect our family and you do such a great job.” I can feel the other woman inside me fuming at how easily I allowed myself to slip back into this role. I can tell she wants revenge. I can tell she’s out for blood, but I have to be careful and smart if I intend to change the rules of this game without them realizing it.

  I could tell the act worked when she heaves a deep sigh to calm herself. Ryia may well hate me too, but she also has to put on a show of sisterly love.

  Maybe I could use that to my advantage.

  “I’m sorry,” she eventually sighs, and I’m actually surprised. This job must really be important to her if she’s willing to apologize to me.

  I could definitely use that against her.

  “Rescuing you was my first priority and I completely forgot how weak your heart is it when it comes to these kinds of things. I’ll make tea to calm you down okay?” out of her White Witch habit, she smiles gently, easing me away from her before turning to walk out the door.

  If nothing else, what just happened between us, the fact that I can still tell the difference between this supposed Arcane witch and the previous White witch is definite proof that I’ve retained my memories. And the fact that the great Ryia; Guardian Witch, tasked with ruining my life does not seem to realize the truth means that I have a weapon within me.

  I have to keep this weapon hidden until it’s the right to wield it.

  Sure, it may be mentally and emotionally draining, but it’s a small price to pay, considering that doing so could lead me to discover the truth. It would be my way of silently avenging the ones who so bravely gave their lives for me.

  I may have to keep biting my lip and swallowing my words, but in the end, this is all just a game, and by remaining silent, I get to peek inside all their heads. I can see their plays before they make it if I pay close attention to her words and her actions.

  It may not be what she wants. It may not be what I want but if this is the way to play the game and win; if this is the way to hide my weapon, then, for now, I’ll give Ryia and her beloved coven what they want.

  I make my way to the dining room when she called for me and sit across her to enjoy this sisterly tea time. I’m only half-listening as she makes chit-chats with me, and I continue to sip the warm and soothing chamomile tea she has prepared.

  The smell of it was enough to make me feel relaxed, but it will not calm the building determination in my chest.

  Nothing will.

  I stared at the clear brown liquid in my cup as it reflects my face.

  Wearing different kinds of masks, Ryia kept up her appearance of being the older daughter in the Alwyn family for years. She designed and wore her masks without me noticing any difference.

  I wonder... will she ever notice that I’ve started doing the same?

  After another sip, I looked straight into her eyes and gave her the sweetest smile I find.

  Oh, Ryia Alwyn. Tsk tsk…

  Will you be able to tell the difference between your sister who is long dead and the new one sitting before you? Birthed with knowledge of your treachery and out for your blood?

  I pick up the mask she’s designed for me, the one she’s establishing as we talk. I listen to the words and log them for future reference. I’ll play nice. I’ll be your weak Liliwen, Ryia.

  Smirk tugs on the edge of my lips as I slowly cover my face with the flesh of the false witch they created to trick me.

  Now, it’s time to play her in this game they created… and unlike her, I intend to win.

  Chapter 2


  The History in Smoke

  Ryia is taking me to the town library today.

  Once I step out of the front door, I can see a black tinted car waiting outside our steel gate.

  Ryia’s dark brown boots hit the walkway with impatience, and her thin moss green trench coat freely rides the wind as she hops into the car.

  Careful not to start the day with a pissed off Ryia, I quickly follow her.

  I hastily climb in and sit on the back seat and closed the door to start the journey.

  We’re heading to The Central. I don’t remember Ryia taking me out much in her former lives, so this is particularly telling. The Central is where all major establishments are: the hospital, the academy, the town library, the whole works. It’s always buzzing with activity even at nightfall. The lights never rest at the centre of the entire town. As we drive past the hustle and bustle in the streets, I can’t help but feel resentful. Everything still feels so normal. Everyone seems quite content to go about their daily lives, as though mine isn’t shedding dead skin and taking on a new life. As though brave men hadn’t been sacrificed last night for a cause, I still do not understand. As though the Penrhyn Mansion had not been torched by Ryia and her band of homicidal Arcane dipshits.

  EVERYTHING WAS JUST SO BLOODY NORMAL.

  The fire last night should have been enough to alert the whole town or at the very least get the authorities to respond. But I heard no sirens blaring in the night. I heard no wolves howling in the distance. Nothing… it all just looks like another ordinary day to these townspeople.

  It’s as if the burning flames and the thick smoke that lingered at the end of the town were the least of this town’s concerns.

  Ignorance truly is bliss.

  For the past few days, I’ve been isolating myself inside the four walls of the bedroom in the mansion. Maybe I should have just stayed there. It’s starting to feel like whenever I get the chance to be out, trouble inevitably follows.