HOODOO SECRETS: New Orleans 1909

HOODOO SECRETS: New Orleans 1909

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WpMetadataNoticeUltima pubblicazione sab, mar 29, 2025
Have you ever taken a walk down an old country dirt road? Have you ever heard the stories that comes from its dust? Have you ever heard of anyone visiting a witch doctor? Have you ever heard of tales of meeting the devil at the crossroads? Many places down in the country with dirt roads, 100 year old cemeteries, and many cross roads; carries these secrets. Because of the rich culture of country living and the myth of the unknown, those stories have been called folk tales. Many of those folk tales comes from the magical conjure of root workers. A root worker is someone that practices Hoodoo known as African American folk magic. It stems from ancient Egypt, but it evolves with society. During Slavery, this practice was forbidden. Their religion had multiple gods and goddesses, prayers to conjure energy or magic, and divinations. All of these practices was against Christianity beliefs. The slaves tailored and incorporated their religion into Catholicism which became Voodoo or Hoodoo. To Madame Antoinette Frazier, those folk tales were true and she had many stories to tell people of her experiences as a Voodoo Priestesses. .
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"The fuck you are leaving me." His roar cracked through the hall like lightning. Ara didn't blink. She stood there, calm as death, done to her core. No tears. No tremble. Just a weary exhale as she turned her back on him - the one thing he never thought she'd do. Before she could take a step, his hand shot out, gripping her arm like he was holding on to life itself. "Where are you going, Ara!" His command shook the pack. But she wasn't his to command. Not anymore. Ara ripped her arm free with a force that made even his wolf recoil. "Don't. Touch. Me." Her aura slammed into him, cold and merciless. "You think I'll stand here and watch you mate and breed her?" she hissed, every word a dagger. His throat bobbed. "She meant nothing." She laughed - sharp, broken, brutal. "Yeah? That's why you were fucking her in your office? Couldn't even hide the scent of your betrayal." "Ara, it was a mistake-" She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "Your mistakes come in episodes, Alpha. Season one, season two, season three. You don't make mistakes. You make choices." He swallowed hard. "I don't need her. I need you." "Lies," she spat. "Every damn sentence you breathe is a lie. I can't even look at you without feeling sick." He flinched like her words physically hit him. "That female behind you?" she pointed, not bothering to glance. "Perfect for you. Go mark her. Breed her. Hell, fuck her for all I care." Her voice cracked - but she kept going, blade steady even when bleeding. "I don't need you. Not anymore." His knees crashed to the floor. The mighty Alpha. On the ground. For her. "Ara... I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry." His voice broke like he finally understood what loss tasted like. She stared at him with a sad, devastating smile. "Isn't it too late for that, Mate?" One tear escaped - and she crushed it away with her thumb. Then she turned. Walked. Didn't look back. But he didn't chase her. Because he knew. He didn't just lose her. He wrecked her.

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