Black Angle Novels & Stories

No longer silver. Black. Pitch black. The Moon had turned its back.

By looking at the scene a sharp pain is spreading over his chest reminding him the innocent beauty is not capable of hurting even a fly from some corner of his heart but his arrogant calculative business mind refuses to believe the poor soul. Alexander Black the only hire of top wealthy family in London with 6.3 feet tall and muscular well built body with the looks of Greek god which he gladly inherited from his father Freddie Black and mother Clara Black. But as we all know looks can be deceiving and that's absolutely right in his case there is a cruel demon hiding beneath this facade of Greek god. His name resembles immense power his word is the law which he can make as well as break accor

“Way stronger than any rogue I’d faced before.” “I know,” I whispered, barely able to catch my breath. “It’s like they weren’t even…wolves anymore.” That was when I looked down. The blood on my hands—it wasn’t red. It wasn’t the crimson I was used to, the kind that came with wounds and wars and too many years of violence. No, this was black. Thick. Oily. Like tar. Like rot. I blinked, thinking maybe I was seeing things wrong, but then I saw it on Nolan too. On Ava’s face. On Liam’s claws. On Shane and Jade. All of us. Covered in that black, putrid mess.

He grimaced. Melinda turned to face him, her expression steely. "Yeah we are." she boomed. her voice shaking with anger. "We are of the white fraternity, and we will not be defeated by you," she said with boldness. "We have the Angel of Light on our side, and we will not back down." The evil folks in the shadows laughed, with their voices echoing through the room. "Oh, seriously?? I thought the glorious angel has left you lots, but even if he hasn't, you lots are nothing compared to the power of the black fraternity," he blared.

Thirty minutes slipped by and Alpha Baron who was sitting on my left, commented. "Looks like he's running late" he said, but no one said anything. Just then, we heard the sound of footsteps. Everyone looked up and the tension doubled. Killian Black had just arrived with his Beta and Gamma. They all had a circular tattoo on the side of their necks which was half covered by the collar of their shirts. There was nothing abnormal about Killian. His aura radiated no darkness of any sort. He was just as tall and muscular as I was. Dark brown hair in a quiff, brown eyes and a moustache. He had a smile on his face. For reasons unknown to me, that smile of his, made my skin crawl. A tall blonde walke

Each of them formidable alphas from packs with unique abilities and legacies. Caius Knight Black of the Nightshade Pack was a tall man with long, sleek black hair that framed his chiseled face. His eyes were a piercing silver, sharp and calculating, often concealed under the shadow of his brow. The Nightshade Pack was known for their mastery over shadows and stealth, and Caius embodied that secrecy and quiet danger. His wolf, as dark as night itself, was a shadow among shadows, capable of blending into the darkness without a trace.

monotonous just like his wardrobe. He stopped in front of one particular black car. "Look at this one... It's one of my favourite shades," he claimed pointing to it. Either one of us has to be colour-blind - Mili thought. "It's just ... black?" She curiously asked. His jaw twitched, as if personally offended. "It's obsidian black, baby," he instantly answered. Mili stared at him offering a small, confused smile, swirling her tongue around the melting ice cream. It was then she realised that he had his own palette of shades that she had completely failed to recognise.

GRAY I reach the gold team’s bunker just as they’re returning with the black team’s flag, whooping and cheering. Looks like we won- no thanks to me. I don’t explain my absence, just congratulate the team as they all celebrate. Then the black team makes their way over, hanging their heads in defeat. They aren’t too sour about it, though- everyone had a lot of fun. It was definitely a successful first war games. Brock comes up beside me, folding his arms and glaring. “Where’s Fallon?” he asks, his voice low so that only I can hear.