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The Black wolf with Silver Eyes
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2025-05-05 18:38:06The chill of midnight clung to Elaina’s skin like a whisper of danger.
She stood on the edge of the sidewalk, heels in one hand, the wind toying with the hem of her black dress. The gala had ended in a blur of crystal lights and whispered warnings. Daisy had left earlier, drunk on champagne and charm, promising to text once she got home. But Elaina had insisted on walking. Maybe she just needed air. Space to clear her head. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since Lucien Blackthorn’s lips brushed her ear with that haunting sentence: “You shouldn’t be here, Elaina. Not yet.” The memory sent a shiver down her spine. Her heels clicked on the cracked pavement as she passed under a flickering streetlamp. The neighborhood was quiet—too quiet. Then— A low growl. She froze. From the shadows, three wolves emerged, fur bristling, eyes gleaming yellow with hunger and bloodlust. No. Not dogs. Wolves. Too large. Too coordinated. Too…wrong. Her instincts screamed, feet backing away slowly, breath catching in her throat. One lunged. She screamed—and then suddenly— A blur of black fur crashed into the attacker mid-air. A massive black wolf with silver eyes, twice the size of the others, snarled with a guttural sound that shook the air. From the distance, golden eyes watched from the rooftop. The rogue Alpha. His fists were clenched. His chest rose and fell in frustration. He was going to save her. But he was too late. That bastard beat him to it. The black wolf—powerful, brutal, precise—ripped through the smaller wolves like a force of vengeance. Elaina collapsed to her knees, breath shallow, eyes wide with shock. The black wolf turned to her, eyes an otherworldly silver in the moonlight. She didn’t scream. She didn’t run. Some part of her…recognized him. He padded closer, nudging her gently with his muzzle. She trembled but allowed him to guide her—through the streets, past the cold night, all the way to her apartment. Inside, everything was quiet. Her vision swam as she stumbled toward the bed, the world turning soft around the edges. The wolf shifted, shadows curling around him like smoke— And there he stood. Lucien Blackthorn. Shirtless. Barefoot. His body still humming with untamed energy. Silver eyes glowing faintly. He gently laid her down on the bed, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Stubborn little thing,” he murmured, voice low, possessive. “Why do you always walk straight into danger?” He bent forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering. His hand hovered above her temple. “You’re mine, Elaina,” he whispered. “And I’ll destroy anything that tries to take you.” A flash of light pulsed from his fingertips as his magic reached into her mind—soft and careful. The fear. The wolves. The attack— Erased. Her breathing calmed. Her body relaxed into sleep. Lucien stood, eyes lingering on her one last time. Then he disappeared into the shadows… leaving only a faint trace of his scent behind. …….. Above the city, veiled in clouds and magic, the mysterious floating figure hovered mid-air, watching the night unfold with an amused smile. Its cloak billowed behind it like a shadow alive, eyes glowing faint violet. “So predictable,” the figure chuckled darkly, fingers lazily twirling a strand of magic in the air like smoke. It raised a hand and conjured an image of Lucien placing Elaina gently onto her bed, then whispering words of possession and erasing her memories. “Lucien…” the voice dripped with mockery, “You saved her this time. But how long will you be able to save her from me?” A low laugh echoed into the night. “She’s waking up, piece by piece. And soon, not even you will be enough.” With a sharp turn, it vanished into thin air—leaving behind only silence and the crackle of dark magic lingering in the wind.
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The night had grown strangely quiet.Not the peaceful kind of silence—but the unnerving, heavy stillness that pressed against the windows like a warning. Even the wind had stopped dancing with the trees, as if nature itself held its breath.Inside her dimly lit room, Elaina sat curled near the window, staring out into the moonlit forest beyond the estate walls. The stars were unusually bright tonight, piercing the velvet sky with shimmering clarity. But it wasn’t the stars that held her attention—it was something else.A sound.No, not a sound. A call.Soft. Wordless. More like a feeling brushing against her mind than a voice. It tugged at her—not physically, but spiritually. As if a part of her long buried beneath flesh and memory had heard something familiar.Her breath caught in her throat.Come.She blinked, pressing her palm to the cold glass. The forest, dark and wild, swayed gently in the moonlight. She had never ventured there. Valen had forbidden it. Lucien avoided the subjec
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The moon hung heavy over Valen’s estate, silver and silent, casting long shadows that crawled across the mansion’s marbled halls. Inside, the air was thick with quiet tension—Elaina had already retired to her room, her thoughts clouded with dreams, fragments, and the unsettling comfort of a home that wasn’t truly hers.Downstairs, Kade grabbed his cloak from the coat rack by the door, stretching with a dramatic sigh.“She’s asleep,” he murmured to himself, brushing his fingers through his unruly hair. “Time to go play assistant to the brooding wolf king.”He glanced once more at the grand staircase, then opened the door to the cool night air.As he stepped outside, the breeze tugged at his coat, and he rolled his eyes. “Lucien’s gonna miss me. Again.”.......At Lucien’s office, the scent of cedar and old parchment lingered in the air. Dim light spilled from the windows, casting golden rectangles across the stone path.But as Kade approached, he noticed a tall figure in motion—Valen,
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In the forgotten heart of the Deadwood Forest, where no sun dared to shine and no animal dared to rest, the air was thick with old magic—bitter and ancient, a pulse of darkness that trembled through the skeletal trees.Beneath the arch of a twisted oak, cloaked in robes darker than shadow itself, the figure stood unmoving.Its presence bent the air around it, a storm of silence and dread. The moon above it was veiled, as if even the heavens refused to witness its ritual.A deep breath, slow and measured.It raised one hand, fingers long and skeletal, lined with silver markings that shimmered faintly.With a flick, it whispered something in a language not spoken for a thousand years—“Invoco noctem corvus.”A gust of cold wind cut through the woods, scattering leaves in spirals. Then came the sound—a fluttering, slow at first, then loud and rhythmic, like thunder in disguise.From the shadowed sky descended a crow, its feathers a sheen of obsidian and ink, eyes burning with something
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Rain lashed against the tall windows of Lucien’s private office—an icy rhythm that echoed through the silence of the room. The fire in the hearth crackled, but it did little to warm the chill that crept into the air as Valen stepped inside, drenched, eyes burning with a rage that was centuries old.Lucien looked up from the parchment on his desk, his silver eyes narrowing.“You shouldn’t be here,” Lucien said calmly, but his muscles tensed beneath his tailored black shirt. “Especially not unannounced.”Valen didn’t sit. He didn’t smile. He moved forward like a storm on legs, each step heavy with purpose.“You went to see her,” Valen said, voice low but seething. “You were told not to.”Lucien rose slowly. “She’s not your prisoner, Valen.”“No,” Valen snarled. “She’s not yours either.”Their gazes locked like clashing swords. The storm outside was nothing compared to the storm inside this room.“She doesn’t belong to you,” Valen said, each word sharp and deliberate. “Not this time. Not
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