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Introduction:

Her coven murdered, her life threatened, she must uncover the mystery before her time runs out.

The Last Witch

Chapter 1: The Werewolf’s Prey

Elara moved silently through the shadowed woods, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. Moonlight broke through the dense branches above, casting silver beams that danced along the forest floor, illuminating her path just enough to see where she was going. She was exhausted, her breaths shallow, her heart racing. Every twig snap made her flinch, every hoot of an owl set her on edge.

She knew the monster was close—she could feel him hunting her, the low growl rumbling in her bones, the predatory hunger that trailed her like a shadow. The werewolf had picked up her scent, and there was no escape. Elara was the last of her kind, the only witch who had survived the relentless hunt that had decimated her coven.

The final ambush was swift, brutal, and unforgiving. Elara remembered the wet sound of flesh tearing, the hot spray of blood as her sisters fell around her. “Run, Elara!” Her sister screamed, her shriek cut off by a sickening crunch as the werewolf tore through her throat, severing flesh and bone in one swift bite. Elara’s gaze locked with hers for a split second, just enough to see the terror and disbelief flicker in her eyes. Then in an instant, a void appeared before her, its crackling energy surging forth, wrapping around her before a clawed hand of a beast could seize her.

Her heart hammered in her chest, pulsing hotly against her ribs. The weight of confusion pressed down on her as she tried to recall any signs they might have missed, any warnings or omens that could have prepared them for this slaughter. Witches were the keepers of the balance, guardians of the veil between realms. But now… now they were nothing but prey. She was almost there, the home of the high seer.

The house loomed before her, a dark silhouette against the moonlit sky. Elara’s heart thundered in her chest as she ran, each step heavy with exhaustion, each breath a struggle. Her friend’s final words echoed in her mind: “Get the tome! It’s the only way!” She clung to those words, desperate, pushing herself onward despite the snarls growing louder, closing in on her like a noose.

Reaching the house, Elara stumbled through the door and slammed it shut, the sound reverberating through the empty room. She leaned against it, trying to steady her breaths, but every nerve in her body was alive, buzzing with the awareness that she was still hunted, still hunted.

Shaking, she reached deep, summoning what remained of her magic, focusing her intent on the protection spell she was taught long ago. Her hands moved swiftly, her voice low as she spoke the incantation. She could feel the ancient power lending strength to her words. A faint green glow rose around the perimeter of the home.

She stood still for a moment, chest heaving, straining to hear past the sound of her own heartbeat. The snarls quieted, but she felt the werewolf’s presence and sensed his eyes upon her prowling in the shadows. She looked out the windows of the home, searching for evidence that it was outside of her barrier but she couldn’t see him. The threat of his presence clung to her like a second skin.

“Elara, get the tome…” The last words of her sister Nora rang in her ears, and her heart clenched. She couldn’t let their deaths be in vain, she couldn’t be the last witch to fall. Staggering forward, she wiped at the sweat and grime that matted her face, her fingers trembling as she fought against the rising tide of fear. She had to find the tome, the only artifact that might hold the answer to what had happened—and maybe, just maybe, it held a way to stop it.

Gritting her teeth, Elara turned and ran deeper into the house, her shoes echoing on the wooden floor. The air inside was stale, filled with the scent of dried herbs and wax, remnants of the rituals once performed here. Her eyes darted across the shelves, books and jars of ingredients scattered about, but there was no sign of the tome.

“Where is it?” she hissed under her breath, her fingers trailing along the dusty spine of a thick, worn volume on the floor. Not the one she needed. She scanned the room, trying to remember what her friend had told her. The tome… the only way.

A sudden thump from upstairs made her jump, a small gasp escaping her lips before she could stop it. It was too late. The werewolf was here. Her hands trembled, fingers brushing the hilt of the dagger she kept hidden beneath her cloak. It wouldn't be enough. Not against something as powerful as a werewolf.

The wind howled through the cracks in the window, masking the creaking sounds of his footsteps. Elara strained to listen, her senses on high alert. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, every nerve in her body alive with fear.

Then, she heard it—a low, rumbling growl. The floorboards bent as the beast moved closer. Her heart pounded in her chest, her eyes darting around the room for an escape route. The small window in the corner seemed impossibly far away, and she knew she wouldn't make it before the werewolf was on her.

Elara crouched low, her back pressed against the wall listening to the heavy footsteps. Elara’s pulse pounded, her breathing shallow and deliberate, her senses tuned to every sound. The weight of each step a reminder of the monstrous power behind those massive paws.

In a moment of icy clarity, she realized just how ill-prepared she was. Her specialty—bewitching, enchanting matters of the heart—was useless against a bloodthirsty beast. She cursed under her breath, thinking of all the other realms of magic she could have mastered. But then, a spark of hope flickered within her. It was dangerous, but she had no other options.

With trembling hands, Elara reached into herself, weaving a quick, intricate spell. Her fingers danced in the air, tracing a complex configuration of symbols, each more delicate than the last. She breathed in deeply, feeling the enchanted mist swirl around her, embedding into her very breath, then held it tight within her chest, waiting.

The beast was closer now. She could feel it, hear its heavy breathing, its claws scraping against the wood. Elara pressed herself further into the corner, her heart slamming against her ribcage as if it, too, wanted to escape.

Then, the door creaked open.

The werewolf's massive shadow filled the doorway, its glowing eyes locking onto hers, its breath hot and ragged, filling the small room with a thick, oppressive air. The werewolf stepped closer, its dark fur brushing against the ceiling beams, its muscles rippling under its matted fur, every movement deliberate and predatory. He approached slowly, savoring the fear radiating from her, and she could feel the raw power of his presence pressing down on her, stealing the air from her lungs. The werewolf’s massive form loomed over her, ready to claim his prize.

Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she stayed rooted, determined, and released her breath in a slow, controlled exhale, letting the mist seep into the air between them.

The creature paused, nostrils flaring as it took in the potent scent. A strange look passed over its face, its aggressive snarl softening as its eyes flickered with confusion. It shook its head, huffing as though trying to shake off the effects, but it was too late. The mist had woven its tendrils deep into its mind, igniting a different kind of hunger.

The werewolf’s stance shifted, its muscles relaxing as it took a step toward her, a different gleam in its eyes now. The spell had worked; she could see the primal hunger shifting, the beast’s rage morphing into raw, insatiable lust. It was the perfect counter to his fury. A wave of pride surged through Elara, but then her heart skipped a beat as the full weight of the outcome dawned on her. She hadn’t accounted for this.

The creature leaned down, sniffing her neck, its breath hot against her skin. Her own pulse betrayed her, a blend of fear and adrenaline surging through her veins. She stayed completely still, every muscle tense, silently praying the spell would hold. If she moved, if she startled the monster, the enchantment could shatter, and she would be at the mercy of the beast.

Elara stifled a gasp, the shock of the werewolf’s rough, eager tongue sliding across her skin sending a wild rush of sensations through her. Her body responded instinctively, her senses heightened, every touch amplified. The creature's breath was hot against her neck, each exhales raising the hairs on her skin and making her shiver.

The beast’s head moved down, nudging her blouse apart further, its nose brushing against her chest as it followed the scent of her sweat and arousal. Its long, rough tongue slipped beneath her bra, finding her sensitive skin with surprising precision, swirling over her hardened nipple. She bit her lip, trying to contain the small moan that escaped her. The werewolf’s low growl seemed to deepen in response, as though it was savoring her reaction.

Elara's mind raced. She had to maintain the spell and keep the creature entranced without doing anything that would provoke it. But her body was responding to its attentions, heat building deep within her, a primal part of herself stirring in a way she hadn’t expected. She felt a flush of warmth spreading through her, pooling between her thighs, and she knew the werewolf could sense it too.

The creature moved closer, inhaling deeply, the musky scent of her fear and desire intertwining. It shifted its head to meet her gaze, its eyes glowing with a strange, feral intensity. She swallowed, feeling the weight of its hunger, its powerful presence overwhelming her senses, filling her with a heady mixture of fear and excitement. The spell was holding—for now. She could feel the tension in the air, a delicate balance between predator and prey.

Elara's breath hitched as she felt the werewolf’s strength urging her knees apart, spreading her open. Her back pressed firmly against the wall, leaving her nowhere to escape as the creature’s broad snout pushed her skirt higher, its breath hot and heavy against her trembling thighs. She shivered as its nose brushed her soaked panties aside with a deft, determined nudge.

The beast's tongue flicked out, catching the slick warmth of her bare skin, sending a shockwave through her body that made her bite back a gasp. Her heart raced, pounding so loudly she was certain the werewolf could hear it. Every nerve was on edge, each touch making her feel impossibly alive, and yet part of her screamed at the danger, at the peril of surrendering to this moment.

She closed her eyes, her breaths shallow as she fought to keep her composure. The werewolf’s tongue dragged slowly, deliberately, up her bare slit, and she felt her body respond, melting into his touch despite her efforts to resist. She stifled another soft moan, feeling the creature’s intensity growing with each passing second.

Her hands fumbled at the wall behind her, desperate for an anchor as her senses spun, completely overwhelmed by the force of his attention. Elara gasped as the werewolf lifted her effortlessly, her body feeling weightless in its powerful grip. The world spun for a moment as she was brought into the open, the cool air wrapping around her skin, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from the beast behind her. With a sudden motion, it dropped her down onto her knees, the floor sold and smooth beneath her palms.

The werewolf’s large, calloused hand pressed against the back of her head, urging her down, while its snout nudged her hips upward, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Panic coursed through her veins as she caught a glimpse of the moonlight spilling into the room, illuminating her predicament.

“Please… no,” she whispered, but it was lost in the growl that rumbled from the werewolf’s chest, a sound that seemed to vibrate through her entire body. It was desperate, a deep-seated need echoing through the creature as it buried its nose into her soft flesh, inhaling deeply as if trying to commit her scent to memory.

Elara’s breath quickened, her heart pounding furiously as she felt its warm breath against her skin. The reality of her situation hit her like a cold wave. She was completely at the mercy of this beast, the werewolf wanted access, wanted to claim what it found so intoxicating, and despite the danger, her body responded, eager for more.

She felt the heat pooling deeper between her thighs, the thrill of the moment mixing with fear as she instinctively pressed back against the werewolf’s eager advances. Each powerful swipe of his tongue against her swollen clit sent waves of raw sensation coursing through her, each one stronger than the last, making her gasp and shiver under him. Her hands clutched at the earth below, her fingers curling, clawing into the ground as if anchoring herself against the intensity.

Her body moved instinctively with the rhythm of his lapping tongue, her back arching as pleasure overwhelmed her. She bit her lip, her moans growing louder, but the werewolf only pressed harder, his tongue moving in deep, languid strokes that made her nerves spark, electrifying her whole being. Every nerve was alive with the sensation, and she could feel herself surrendering. The sheer pleasure built within her like a wave, and just as it crested, her body erupted in a powerful spasm, sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through her.

The werewolf studied her, its eyes filled with a strange mix of curiosity and hunger as it observed the way her body trembled, her chest rising and falling with each desperate breath.

Elara lay in the wake of her release, her mind hazy as the aftershocks of her climax rippled through her, leaving her in a vulnerable calm. It was at that moment she became acutely aware of the creature's gaze on her. Elara felt her heart race, she was exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at the mercy of this creature.

The werewolf’s low growl reverberated in the air. Elara looked back behind her, meeting the monster's gaze. His hungry eyes roamed her body with a possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine. It saw her for what she was— a temptress, a conquest, a bitch in heat. The thought thrilled her, sending another rush of heat between her thighs.

The werewolf moved closer, the silver light of the moon streaming through the open window highlighted every detail of him; the lines of the ripple of his fur, his broad powerful shoulders, his sinewy muscles. Elara’s pulse raced as her eyes locked onto the monster's arousal, her eyes widening at the sheer size of it. The werewolf’s cock was massive, pulsing with life. The dark veins along the thick, red, fully aroused length, stood proudly against its muscular belly.

Her mind raced, conflicting thoughts swirling like a storm inside her. What have I gotten myself into? The sheer size of the beast’s cock sent a jolt of fear through her. It was a reminder of her predicament, a stark contrast to her fragile human body. How can something so big even fit? What if I can’t handle it? What if it breaks me? But as she gazed at it, a strange heat unfurled within her. The danger was intoxicating.

The werewolf loomed over Elara, his dark shadow eclipsing her in the moonlight. His breath was hot against her skin, his nostrils flaring as it took in her scent, inch by inch along her spine, She shivered, a raw ache building within her, its intensity filling her with equal parts fear and desire. As its nose nudged the back of her neck, goosebumps prickled over her skin, and a quiet, helpless moan slipped from her lips. The sound seemed to ignite something in the beast, its growl vibrating through her body, pulling her deeper into its powerful thrall.

Elara’s breath caught as the beast's jaw clamped down on her ponytail, the gentle sting of her hair being tugged sending a rush of adrenaline through her veins. Her hands hit the ground, her body arching as she was pulled into submission, fully aware of the raw power behind the creature's every movement. She could feel the hardwood floor beneath her hands and knees, grounding her with a magnetic pull that rooted her in place. Her fingers clawed the wood in anticipation, her body trembled, her voice short, every nerve ending alive.

Its sharp claws slid down her body, careful yet insistent, tracing the curves of her form with a gentleness that belied its ferocity. She held her breath, the anticipation hanging thick in the air as it found the edges of her clothing. With a swift, deliberate motion, it ripped through the fabric, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. The sudden rush of cool air against Elara’s exposed skin made her gasp. As it tore away the last remnants of her clothing, she could feel her heart racing—not from fear, but from an undeniable desire that coursed through her veins.

The werewolf’s claws wrapped around her hips, anchoring her in place with an unyielding possessive grip. She could feel his unmistakable hardness sliding between her thighs, its heat radiating through her as it found the soft sensitive flesh between her legs.

Her body responded instinctively, her hips tilting back, her wetness greeting him as her lips parted. A deep moan escaped her lips, a sound of both pleasure and surrender. The veins along its length pulsed against her sensitive clit, teasing and tantalizing her until she was nearly quaking with need. With each back-and-forth motion, Elara found herself instinctively rocking her hips, surrendering to the rhythm the beast set for her.

The moment felt suspended in time as the werewolf drew back its length, nestled it at her entrance, and pressed into her. The sensation was overwhelming, an explosion of heat and fullness that sent her spiraling into an abyss of ecstasy. She gasped, her body instinctively arching back, welcoming the intrusion as the lines between pleasure and pain began to blur.

Elara felt her body clench around the massive intruder, her muscles gripping him as he opened her up wider and wider. “Oh fuck, oh god you’re huge!” She whimpered. The sensation was overwhelming—each inch of him stretched her to her very limits leaving her breathless and gasping. She felt her walls quiver as they adjusted, the heat of him igniting a fire deep within her core.

The werewolf drove deeper and deeper with a steady rhythm that sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her veins. She could hardly process the sensations. The world around her faded away, reduced to the rhythm of their bodies moving together, a dance of predator and prey.

Elara felt her body stretch and yield, her walls molding around the thick girth of the beast. She could feel every ridge and vein, each contour pressing against her sensitive walls.

“God, it's so big,” she thought, her mind racing even as her body surrendered to the rhythm. The raw power of the werewolf surged through her, a primal force that made her feel alive. She wanted more, needed more, a hunger growing within her that she couldn’t ignore. “Please, don’t stop!” She begged as her toes curled involuntarily, the tension building within her like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Elara's world narrowed to the rhythmic pulse of the werewolf's thrusts, each one more urgent and frenzied than the last. The intensity of his body slamming into hers pushed her further into a blissful haze. She could feel her own release building, a tight coil of heat that wound tighter and tighter deep within her core, making her muscles quiver with anticipation.

Her body rocked back against him, craving that deep, primal connection, desperate to take him all in. "Yes! Just like that!" she moaned, urging him on, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

As he plunged into long deep strokes, his hips pounding into her as, the thick head of his cock slid against her most sensitive spot, drawing a loud gasp from her lips. “Oh god, I’m so close!” she cried, her voice trembling with need. The walls of her body tightened around him instinctively, squeezing him as if begging him to stay buried deep inside.

“Please,” she moaned, barely aware of the words slipping past her lips, lost in the delicious chaos of sensation. She could feel herself teetering on the brink of climax. “I can’t hold on!” she gasped, feeling the world around her start to blur. She surrendered to the sensations washing over her. “I’m yours! Yes! Claim me! Fill me!” she cried out, lost in the throes of passion, her voice raw and unrestrained. Her body shuddered, the overwhelming pleasure wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

The werewolf wasn’t done, he moved faster and faster, her nerves electrified as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her. She could feel his thrusts growing more erratic, his breaths turning into deep growls that sent a thrill down her spine. “Oh no, I can’t! I can’t take any more!” she pleaded, eyes squeezed shut, lost in the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure.

Then, as the werewolf thrust deep into her, she felt a sudden, intense swell within her. The bulbous gland at the base of his length began to expand, the rock-hard knot pressing against her in a way that sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through her, locking her onto his raging wood. Her nerves fired in rapid succession, each pulse igniting her senses further.

“Oh gods!” she gasped, the words tumbling from her lips as her body trembled. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave crashing over her as her muscles tightened around him, clenching with need. She could feel the swell growing larger, each heartbeat echoing through her core, drawing her closer to the precipice.

Another orgasm, more powerful than the last, erupted from deep within her, a powerful explosion that shook her entire being. Her body convulsed, the intensity of the pleasure making her scream. Elara’s vision blurred as waves of ecstasy washed over her, each surge sending her spiraling further into bliss.

“Please! I want to feel you!” she cried, her voice a desperate plea, urging him toward the precipice with her. Elara screamed out in pleasure as the werewolf let out a long loud howl.

As the werewolf’s release surged through him, she felt the hot burst of his seed filling her, flooding her senses with heat and ecstasy. His release pumped into her spurt after spurt, sending her spiraling further into pleasure, igniting the coil within her once more. Her body responded, contracting around him, milking him as if urging every last drop to fill her completely.

“Please, yes!” she cried out, Elara's body quaked In that fleeting moment, she felt utterly alive, lost in the exquisite agony of being filled to the brim, held tightly by the creature who had awakened something deep and primal within her.

Elara and the werewolf stayed locked together as they recovered from the intensity of their shared experience, savoring the lingering sensation of the beast's claim over her. The world around her faded into a blissful haze, filled only with the echoes of their shared breaths and the primal rhythm of their bodies.

When his knot finally released, a warm rush spilled from her, dripping in a pooling beneath her on the cold ground. She felt his release trickling down her thighs and onto the wood floor, a physical reminder of the beast’s mark upon her. Exhausted, she let herself sink into the ground, feeling her body melt into the puddle of heat beneath her.

Her body, still trembling from the intensity of their union, felt heavy and sore. Each muscle aching, the effort of submission and pleasure leaving her exhausted but undeniably fulfilled. She could still feel the remnants of their connection pulsing through her, a lingering sensation that made her shiver.

“Wow," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She managed to catch glimpses of the werewolf as it stood over her, a silent guardian under the fading moonlight. As dawn approached, he gave her one last look, as if acknowledging the strange bond they now shared, before turning and slipping into the shadows, leaving her alone with the memory of that unforgettable night.

Elara stirred slowly, the first light of dawn filtering through the grimy windows, casting a soft glow on the remnants of the night. She blinked, trying to piece together her fragmented memories. The floor beneath her was cool, but the dampness was unmistakable—a sticky reminder of the wild night she had survived. The scent of musk lingered in the air, heavy and intoxicating, wrapping around her like a blanket.

Preview:

Chapter 2: The Demon in the Tome

A wave of weakness washed over Elara. Her legs trembled beneath her, quaking as if she had just run a marathon. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, breathing heavily. The reality of her situation sank in like the morning sun creeping into the room. She was alive, heart pounding with a strange mix of relief and disbelief.

Despite the dull ache pulsing through every muscle, a wave of exhilaration surged through Elara. She was alive. Her chest heaved with labored breaths, but each inhale was a testament to her survival. She pressed her trembling hands against the floor, slowly rising to her feet, though her legs wobbled beneath her. The room was unnervingly still, the silence hanging heavy in the air, broken only by her ragged breaths.

Elara's gaze swept the dimly lit space, trying to focus, to gather her scattered thoughts. She was disoriented, but one truth cut through the fog in her mind like a blade: she had to keep moving. "I need to find the tome," she whispered, her voice hoarse from exhaustion. "It's the only way."

Elara scoured the house, her fingers brushing against every wall and corner, until she discovered a narrow door hidden beneath the staircase. She pushed it open and descended into the dark, dank space below. The air was thick, musty, with a lingering scent of wax and dried herbs that only intensified as she ventured deeper.

At the center of the room stood a stone dais, encircled by candles long extinguished, their wax frozen in mid-drip. Concentric chalk markings covered the floor, carved into intricate patterns, with ancient *********** woven around them and Roman numerals marking the perimeter. Elara’s fingers traced the symbols as she stepped closer, her pulse quickening. Finally, she spotted a book resting on the dais—a thick tome bound in worn leather, its cover embossed with faded symbols. She reached out, hands trembling, and felt a powerful, almost magnetic energy radiating from it.

With trembling fingers, examined the tome. She could feel the surge of mystical energy emanating from it. As she looked at the images and slowly deciphered the text she realized why her coven was hunted. The power within this text threatened the balance that her kind had sought to protect since the realms of monsters and mortals merged into one.

As Elara’s fingers grazed the book's worn cover, a searing jolt shot through her, and in that instant, fragments of memories that weren't her own flooded her mind. She gasped, clutching the tome as it revealed the truth she’d feared: her coven hadn’t been hunted by monsters —they’d been betrayed from within. The others sacrificed themselves to protect something only she carried, a secret locked deep within her blood.

She shuddered as strange visions came over her, a prophecy unraveling before her eyes. She saw her body, undulating with creatures from shadowy realms, unlocking a dark power within her she would unleash. A new hunger stirred within her, terrifying and thrilling all at once, and she realized this path wouldn’t merely demand her magic—it would demand her body, her lust, and a willingness to become something far more dangerous than she’d ever dreamed.

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