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The Devil's Cursed Witch

The tale of a man who brings death and a girl who denies it. ---- On the haunted mountain in the kingdom, they say there lived a witch. She was born a princess. But even before her birth, the priest declared her to be cursed and demanded her death. They poisoned the mother to kill the baby before she gave birth, but the baby was born out of the dead mother—a cursed child. Again and again, they tried to kill the baby but she miraculously survived every single attempt. Giving up, they abandoned her on the haunted mountain to die but she still survived on that barren land— A witch ‘Why won’t she die?’ Years later, the people finally had enough of the witch and decided to burn the mountain. But the Devil arrived to her rescue and took her with him from that burning place, because dying was not her destiny even then. Draven Amaris. The Black Dragon, who ruled over supernatural beings, the Devil who no one wished to cross a path with. He hated humans but this certain human girl would pull him towards her whenever she was in danger. ‘Is she really a human?’ He took the human with him and named this mysteriously tenacious girl “Ember”, a piece of glowing coal in a dying fire. A soul tainted with vengeance and the darkness of hell, would rise from the ashes and fulfil her revenge. ------ This is the second book from the series of The Devils and Witches. 1st book - Witch's daughter and the Devil's son. 3rd book- The Devil's Betrothed. All books are connected to each other but you can read them as stand-alone.

Mynovel20 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
476 Chs

[Bonus chapter] Invitation For The Festival

Ember's gaze was only on Draven. Just as they reached each other, her senses were suddenly brought back to reality when she heard the man next to her mate speak while bowing to her. 

"Etorn from the White Tiger Clan greets His Majesty's mate."

"Uhm, nice to meet you, Sir Etorn."

Ember didn't know how to respond so she simply offered a light courteous smile. She subtly glanced at Draven, silently asking if her response was proper, but the King had no change in his expression. His gaze was simply fixed at his mate. 

The man with white hair, despite looking to be in his mid-thirties, straightened his bulky body. He was wearing clothes made of animal hide with a pattern of black long patches on wide cloth which resembled white tigers' appearance- an opened front waistcoat, a knee-length long skirt which was secured with a leather belt and boots.