High Witch (High Witch Book 1)

By Mona Hanna

Brayden dreams for thirty nights, tortured by the vision of a beautiful woman. When Ariel Williams walks into his inn, he sees that she's the one he's been obsessed with in his night time journeys. But Ariel is fleeing an arranged marriage and keeps shyly to herself, until the worst happens and by mistake she casts a spell on a guest. Brayden works with Ariel to help her control her magic but discovers she's a High Witch - one of only three witches in the world with a rare kind of power.

Immediately the two must flee; evil warlock Julius wants to enslave Ariel – mind, heart and body. Julius and his lover the High Witch Nadia will stop at nothing to capture Ariel, and the danger threatens to tear Ariel apart from Brayden. Ariel’s only hope is that her love for Brayden and her newly-discovered powers are strong enough to save them.

This is a NOVELLA of approximately 25,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. Hanna
• Release date: Nov 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301745197

Mona Hanna

Mona Hanna is an author of fantasy/romance books. She enjoys writing about love, magic, conflict, trials and the joy of overcoming them. Mona enjoys reading, movies, chocolate, and adores cats. She hopes to release many more fantasy books in the years to come.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Brayden gazed into the woman’s vivid blue eyes. Her blonde hair flowed down her shoulders, soft, silky. She curled her fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, and brought her mouth close to his. His heart beat erratically in anticipation of the moment their lips would touch. He shut his eyes, then felt the softest, sweetest sensation of his life. He tasted her sweet lips, shuddered as her tongue played with his. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her closely, tightly. His entire body quivered as it was pressed against hers. She began to pull away. He held her to him. She broke the kiss.

She looked at him with sadness in her eyes. He could feel it — she was leaving. He felt like she’d left him a thousand times before. That they were endlessly reliving this moment. He tried to hold onto her, but she turned and began to fade from view. He grasped at her disappearing figure, but his hands clutched air. She was gone.

He stood there, sorrow consuming him. Then the faint sounds of bells twinkling, and her soft, sweet voice.

Find me.

***

Brayden shot up in bed. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, then he sunk back down, sighing. He stared up at the slanted ceiling of his attic room, trying to control his breathing. Thirty nights in a row. Thirty nights in a row. The same dream, of the same girl. A girl he’d never met. A girl whose loss broke his heart so much, he walked around all day full of sadness.

He covered his face with his hands, wishing more than anything for the dream to stop. He wasn’t someone who received visions — there was no way this woman existed. But she was haunting him. She was in his dreams at night, in his mind all day. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Mourning her. She was torturing him.

He rolled over and tried to force himself to sleep. He would be useless tomorrow if he didn’t manage it. He held his pillow, trying to breathe slowly and carefully. But he had the same problem he had every night. He could still taste her.

***

"You look terrible. Worse than yesterday. How could you look worse than yesterday?"

Brayden rested his head on his arms, leaning on the table in the kitchen. His employer pulled up a chair and sat across from him. The cook and her worker were busy making breakfast for the inn’s guests, moving between the fireplace and the wooden benches, stirring food in pots and turning it over in frying pans. The smell of meat cooking and fresh bread filled the large room. Brayden had to get to work soon serving breakfast, but he could barely move.

What’s going on? Alistair asked.

Brayden lifted his head to look at his employer. He couldn’t tell him. He would think he was mad.

Nothing, he mumbled. I’m just — tired.

The middle aged man snorted. "You’re past tired. You’re practically dead. You’ve been moping around for weeks, working slower than I’ve ever seen you — tell me what’s going on, or I’ll have to get rid of you."

Brayden looked at him in surprise. I — I...I’m not doing this on purpose. I’m trying to sleep, honestly.

Alistair’s expression softened. He scratched his dark beard. Your problems are none of my concern, son, but the way you work here is. You have to sort this out — whatever it is. You’re better than this. I don’t want to have to turn you out.

Alistair stood and left the kitchen, patting Brayden on the shoulder as he walked by. Brayden rubbed his hand over his face, desperately trying to snap out of his sleepy haze. He couldn’t believe it was coming to this. He had to stop thinking about her. 

Alistair yelled at him that a new guest had arrived, and he rose to attend to them. He walked out of the kitchen and down the dark hall. He moved through the large, empty dining room, then pushed open the door to the front area where they signed in guests.

A young woman stood before the high wooden counter, surrounded by a large trunk and a few satchels. She wore a light grey dress, and her blonde hair was piled up on top of her head messily, loose strands everywhere. She wore thick, enormous spectacles, which made her look much older than someone who, Brayden assumed, was about twenty-three, like him. He stood there for a moment watching her, then quickly moved behind the counter.

Hello, he said. Can I help you?

I’d like a room, she said in a quiet voice. I’ll need to be here at least a week.

He nodded, picking up the guest ledger and placing it before him. He dipped a quill in ink, and held it over the paper. Your name, please?

Ariel Williams, she said. He wrote it down.

What kind of room...

Any one is fine, she said quickly. He glanced up at her, curious at her nervousness. He turned and picked up a key hanging from a board on the wall behind him, then handed it to her.

Room three, he said. You pay when you leave.

He pointed to the sign on the wall with the costs, and she nodded, some strands of her hair flopping down. Brayden suppressed a smile.

Will you be joining us for breakfast? he asked.

No, she said softly. I just want to get settled.

His gaze wandered over her belongings, thinking that would take a while, but he didn’t say anything. He walked around to her and picked up the trunk. He struggled not to drop it, stunned at its weight. She picked up the satchels, then he led her up the staircase at the other end of the room. They arrived on the first floor, and she unlocked the door.

They walked into the medium sized room, and Brayden put the trunk in front of the desk near the door. The room was plain but comfortable, with a large bed, soft rug on the floor, fireplace along the wall opposite the bed, and a large dresser with a mirror on top next to it. The walls were white, the curtains beige. Ariel placed the satchels on the bed, then sat down on the thick blanket.

Brayden stood there for a moment, knowing he should be saying something, but for some reason forgot what it was. Ariel was looking at her hands, fiddling with the folds of her skirt. He swallowed, he thought very loudly. She looked up at him.

Do you need anything else? he finally stammered. She shook her head. He managed a small smile.

Alright. Let me know if you do.

He began to walk from the room. Thank you, she called after him. He didn’t say anything, just shut the door behind him. He stood there for a while, a peculiar feeling coming over him. He didn’t know what it was. Shaking his head, he walked back downstairs. He had to focus on his job. He couldn’t let any more thoughts of women disrupt him.

But as he began to finish the ledger entry when he arrived downstairs, he kept reading the woman’s name over and over. Ariel Williams. For a reason he couldn’t understand, he smiled. He kept smiling. He looked up at the staircase. She was only up those stairs. He grimaced to himself, thinking he was the biggest idiot in the world. Was he mesmerized by anyone in a