The Last Salem Witch
- LECTURES 344
- Votes 22
- Chapitres 16
🔥 The Last Salem Witch 🔥
Some legacies are carved in blood. Others are lit in fire.
Willow Montgomery was born marked-with a spiral of scarlet beneath her ribs and the whispers of a mother who died too soon. At twenty-one, she's a combat-trained heir of Salem's most feared bloodline, a student of the Division, and haunted by visions that burn more real with every passing night. Magic isn't just something she wields-it's something watching her from the other side of the Veil.
And behind that Veil?
Taroth. Demon prince. Fire-forged. Beautiful. Dangerous. Bound to something older than death-and impossibly drawn to her. His flame speaks to hers, their magic entangled long before they ever touched. When he looks at her, he sees the spark of something forbidden. And when she looks at him, she feels the fire she was always meant to become.
When a bloodstone cracks under Willow's touch, old forces begin to stir. Whispers turn to screams. Shadows call her name. And Taroth answers-with a blade in one hand and a promise in the other.
As enemies rise and ancient power unravels, Willow must decide what she truly is: the daughter of a fallen hero, the heir to a cursed god, or the last witch strong enough to rewrite what comes next.
With the mist clawing through the walls of Salem and the Veil beginning to break, the only thing more dangerous than Willow's power... is the demon who might burn the world for her.
Magic. Memory. Fury. Fire. Desire.
She was never meant to survive the fire.
She was meant to become it.
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"You're the only thing that I have ever truly loved," he states, leaning in closer. I try to scoot away, but he corners me on the bed, placing his body over mine. "Get off me!" I exclaim, angrily. "I'm not who you think I am. That can't be possible." His face comes closer to mine as he pins my wrists to the bed. "It is possible. I loved you for three, short, human years, and then you left me. Now that I have you back, though, I will never let that happen again." ***** Salem's earliest memories were of her parents preforming odd rituals. She never really understood anything they said in them, but she would always sit in the middle of the big, circled, star and giggle. At age 10, both of her parents died. She was thrown into foster care. Without them around to explain to her exactly what the rituals meant, Salem was never told that she was a sacrifice to a demon king in exchange for all the money they could ever ask for. On her 20th birthday, at the stroke of midnight, the demon king finally comes for her. She is completely unaware of the situation, and she begins to try her best at resisting his advances, but he is very possessive, very persuasive, and very determined to claim what is rightfully his.Terminé
[BUNDLE] BOOK 1: There's a reason buried things should always stay buried. For better or for worse. To have and to hold a demon for eternity. She says demons haunt the night, inflecting everything in their path. But where I come from demons don't just lurk around the shadows. They breed in your head. Feasting on your soul until you cease to exist. And, mine just woke up infested in wicked lies. Till death do us apart, little soul. BOOK 2: Girls like them are expected to dance to the tune of evil. To smile with the taste of souls in their veins and vengeance in their hearts. To feed the ghosts and the monsters within them. Discarded by the world and hidden in a maze of twisted creatures, I'm barely holding into my sanity, trapped between the past and the present. Between good and evil. Until one day I no longer recognize myself or them. He says he can see beyond the evil that I am. But it's not him that my madness prevails for or HIM. Because I'm starting to hear their tune, dancing to destruction and chaos. BOOK 3: There's a reason buried things should always stay buried. Like my mistakes. Your past. Now the grave is open and corpses are crawling out. Corpses inflicted with lies and betrayals. Corpses that you pull the strings of, corpses that even Hell is afraid to take. You see, little soul, you think that makes you the monster in our story. But you forgot me. You forgot my promise. Our story might have ended with till death do us apart. But even death has a shadow to lose.
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