Black Canary Arrow Novels & Stories

Something told me this journey was about to take an unexpected turn. More enemies were waiting. Hidden within the shadows. Watching. Following. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. I continued scrutinizing the arrow, but at first glance everything appeared ordinary. Nothing about it revealed the identity of the assassins. Yet one thing stood out. The shaft had been crafted from Black Cider hardwood, a rare timber found only in the far southern regions governed by Alpha Damien. Meanwhile, the arrowhead had been forged from a special alloy ore commonly found near my own territory.

He mumbled, his eyes turned the darkest shade of black, "Let's have fun, then…" "Come Grieving Ebony Hunting Bow!"

Black been in-love with me, whiles smiling as I decide to go look for my best friend and checkup on the patients later. After all, they are all doing good and when they need me, they will definitely call for me. So for now, ' mission-search-for-Marigold activated' I say to myself, still grinning at the thought that mr. Black may like me. AT THE C.E.O OFFICE! 'Why are you here, Asmodeus?' A deep voice angrily asks. 'Do I need your permission to also be in the human world?' Another voice replies with amusement. 'Answer me!' The deep voice angrily roars.

Caspian held the two-foot-long arrow and grinned at it. "Want it? "Yes." "Then exchange your life for it."

Then she saw the archer. The wolf stood on a low ridge, bow drawn, the arrow aimed not at her, but at Logan. The arrow was black, pulsing with the same darkness that marked the Nameless One’s power. A single shot, and Logan would fall. Aria screamed his name, but her voice was lost in the clash of steel. She could not reach him in time. Could not stop the arrow. But Logan heard her. He saw the archer, saw the arrow, and he did not dodge.

I didn't have time to shout. I dropped my reins. I pulled my massive yew bow from my back and snatched a heavy, flanged iron arrow from my quiver in a single, fluid motion. These arrows were designed to punch through steel armor; they were the only thing that could pierce a rogue boar’s skull. I knocked the arrow. I pulled the heavy bowstring back until the fletching brushed my cheek. My golden eyes locked onto the exact spot between the boar’s red eyes. I was the Warlord of the Blackwood. I had never missed a shot in my life. I was going to drop the beast dead before it could take a single step toward Elian.

The color slowly drained from her face. "Oh..." ****😳😳****

The will certainly run out of arrows she consoled herself as she crawled on all fours searching for another safe cover. Dark Shadow growled darkly in frustration when his hand moved back to his arrow collection and felt only two arrows. The blonde was proving to be an elusive target. His prey has never lasted past three arrows and here he was almost out of his arrow and his target was still breathing. He took out one of the arrows and aimed as soon as the blonde sneaked out from her hiding spot and sent it flying in her direction.

It hit Xareth. It pierced his chest, just below the heart. I gasped, frozen in horror, but Xareth didn’t even flinch. He looked down at the arrow embedded in him like it was a thorn caught on fabric. With one hand, he gripped the shaft and pulled it out. No scream, no grunt, or reaction. Then he threw it aside like it was meaningless. A silver arrow. Laced with wolfsbane. It should have seared his skin, sizzled with poison, blackened his veins until his body collapsed. I had seen the same arrow fell giants. Alphas. Beastborn warriors twice his size.