Bardock Black Novels & Stories

The bullet hit the wall behind him. Lorenzo slammed Scarface into the concrete. The sound made Kyrian sick.Scarface didn't move after that. Lorenzo turned around. His eyes were completely black. Glowing gold around the edges. Not human. Pure Enigma. He looked at Kyrian.Everything stopped. Then Lorenzo was moving again. But slower now. Careful. Like Kyrian might break. He dropped to his knees in front of Kyrian. His hands shaking when they touched Kyrian's face.

"Well, um, for some pack warriors they needed a BJ. It stands for Black Jacket," "A black jacket? Carter wanted a black jacket?" "Yep kiddo, but these black jackets aren't ordinary, they have magic chanted on them to help the warriors get more invincibility," I cringed, I don't want to lie anymore, but what can I say? "Oh, so Carter wanted those BJs too himself, huh?" "Yes, you see, Carter isn't a strong wolf, so he needed those to help him in the battle field," "I thought he'd be one of the best warriors in the pack? But anyway, I want it too Luna! I want it, I want it!" she exclaimed happily,

"Gentlemen, this is our premium offering. Jenna Carter. Twenty-eight years old. Undamaged. Connected to Colt Richardson of the Devil's Reign MC, which adds considerable value." The men studied me like livestock. One stood—tall, scarred, with dead eyes. "I want a closer look." "Of course, Mr. Konstantin." Viper gestured. "But no touching during preview. That privilege comes after purchase." Konstantin circled me slowly. "She has fire. I like fire. It makes breaking them more satisfying." I met his eyes. "If you touch me, I will kill you." He laughed. "See? Perfect. I will start the bidding at one hundred thousand."

Please let me have magically forgotten the color of my own bottle. “Ahem.” The sound came from behind me. I turned slowly and a man stood there. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. And he was staring directly at the bottle in my hand. His bottle. My soul left my body. “I—” I held it up helplessly. “This is yours.” He raised an eyebrow. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “I didn’t know,” I rushed out. “I thought it was mine. I mean, obviously it’s not mine because mine is pink and this is black and I know the difference between pink and black, I just—”

the leader of their council said. There was so much hatred in the way he spoke to me, and I wondered what he was talking about. "What did you find out?" I asked him. " You possessed a dark lunar magic and this has brought about some kind of darkness to our pack, we do not accept that kind of magic here and anyone who brings such to us will be punished" he said. It sounded like some lame joke, I am never with such kind of magic, what has this got to do with me?

Barak quickly stepped back to avoid his attack, but he still got hit in the face. Ah… Barak let out an agonized cry. Ptui! He spat out a mouthful of blood and a couple of teeth. Barak held his pained face and gaped at Kiran. Many people could not help but cover their mouths in shock. Barak was a master of black magic in the Mawi Tribe. Not only did his opponent show no traces of fear when facing his poison, but he even slapped Barak across the face. It was even more humiliating than getting killed.

Each blow they exchanged left the bakery further ravaged, the once-cozy shop now a battleground stained with blood and chaos. Bruce’s savage attacks bore the unmistakable signature of Malrik’s dark influence. His light brown fur, streaked with crimson from Ryker’s counterstrikes, gleamed under the faint light. His black patch glistened like a shadow itself, as though darkness clung to him. His glowing amber eyes locked onto Ryker with an intensity that screamed of hatred and vengeance.

Rolling my eyes, I got up. ''I know someone is there. Either you show yourself or leave. I suggest you chose the latter!'' I barked angrily. I could smell a wet dog probably its just the wet stuffy scent of the rain mixed with wood. I need not ask anymore. A big, black wolf with golden eyes emerged from behind the bushes. I gasped at how big it was, dark as the night. It was darker than black.

Laughter erupted from Baddy, a sound that sent chills down my spine. "You think you can stand against me? I have allies far more powerful than you can imagine. Your unity is weak, and your time is up!" With a flick of his wrist, the Black Faes surged forward, dark energy crackling around them like a storm. The air thickened with tension, and I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I readied my stance, gripping my weapon tightly.

Chapter Eleven— fake dating. ☆Micaiah's POV☆ We sat in his study. Barton himself looked like something out of a mob movie—sixty years old, silver hair slicked back, a pinky ring that caught the light when he moved his hand. Kieran stood behind me, silent and watchful. He'd barely said a word since we arrived. "So," Barton said, swirling his scotch. "Daemon Blackwood." I leaned back, keeping my expression neutral. "He's becoming a problem."