Black Court Novels & Stories

Seeing Jaxon and Mia looking like they glue each other, Rey glared at Gavin who looked innocently at everyone. “Blacky is not wrong, he just wants to play. You know already, he likes women,” said Gavin which made all the men there snort in disapproval. “I told you to keep the snake in his cage, Gavin,” Gideon hissed. “Imagine if it was Kalista, she might give birth prematurely.” All the men there shuddered at the thought of Kalista with her big belly climbing a chair and running around the room being chased by Blacky. “Usually Blacky is very sweet,” Gavin defended against his snake which looked at the men around with its round eyes as its body squirmed about to come to its master.

I’ll even help you deal with any of them. “And how would I know you won’t back stab me?” “The same way I know you won’t. It’s not your reputation. Look up Black Dogs. You know of them?” “Order of mercenaries.” “Bingo,” the man said. “Asked them about Vanargand.” “I see.” “You heard of the name?” “It’s another name for Fenrir, monster-wolf of Norse mythology.” “I thought using Fenrir could be copyright infringement, or just piss the guy off.” “That would be unwise.”

His broad shoulders were tense beneath a tailored black jacket, and his ash-gray eyes scanned the crowded room with a cold, calculating intensity that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The banquet was already underway, the low hum of sharp conversations, clinking silver, and deep, rumbling laughter filling the cavernous space. "More wine here, human." The rough, demanding voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. I flinched, quickly stepping forward toward a table occupied by a pair of burly Northern enforcers whose eyes gleamed with an arrogant, predatory amusement as I approached. I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the crystal decanter, pouring the deep red wine into their goble

Byron knocked on my door early the next morning. "Ready?" he asked, his face a mask of tired tenderness. "I think you need to see Liam for yourself. So you can understand the position I'm in." I nodded and followed him to the dungeons. The Blackwood dungeons were built in the deepest part of the territory, the thick stone walls covered in ancient runes that suppressed a wolf's power. The air was thick with the reek of silver and despair. "He's in the deepest cell," Byron said. "For the charge of treason."

ACE By nine in the morning, we were already in Blackwood’s main hall—a place that only ever got used for events like this. The kind where silence is heavy, and everything smells like old money and regret. The sky outside was overcast, shadows of gray-blue light creeping through the tall windows and soaking the room in a cold hue. The Blackwood family portraits lined the walls like judges. Reggie’s was one of the biggest—arms crossed, chest puffed, staring straight at the spot where we were now all seated. It felt like he was still watching. Even from the grave.

She fidgeted in her seat, her eyes darting anxiously to the entrance each time someone walked in, her heart leaping with false hope again and again. Until finally—A man in a tailored business suit entered. “I’m sorry for the delay,” he said, approaching the officers. “The boss is currently in a meeting. I was sent as his representative.” Belle looked up. Her heart sank. It wasn’t him. “This is the CEO’s black card,” the manager explained eagerly, showing it to the man. “We recognize it anywhere. Only a few people in the country own one. Yet today, it was used by… her.” His tone carried thinly veiled disdain.

Dad grabbed the nurse, throwing her out of the room alongside himself. "Well-done, Emily, you have accomplished your mission." A sinister scent emerged, a wicked laugh echoing across the room. The once blue sky was now a mixture of black and white with the moon reflecting its radiant image. Wails filled the air as a ray of light fell from the sky, hitting a mountain on the other side of town. I groaned, wincing as my hand was scorched by the flaming book. The pages settled, words in red appearing on the pages. "Strigoi, Nosferatu, Jiangshi…"

Every shadow felt like Isabel lurking, every whisper like a warning. The courtroom itself was tense, suffocating even, with the weight of history, wealth, and obsession. Adrian Blackwood sat on one side, impeccably dressed, calm, almost eerily serene, as though he owned not just the courtroom but the truth itself. Behind him, his legal team moved with practiced ease, their faces masks of professional indifference.

But I guess that was what this was. A black wedding. And then I saw him. The man of the fucking hour. Sitting on a high seat, a throne carved from blackened bone and obsidian. I’d heard that it was the remains of his enemies that built that throne, but I’d expect nothing less from Rhett Blackwood. His heavy arms rested on the lion-wolf hybrids sculpted into the stone armrests and his crown, a surprisingly simple black iron circlet, rested atop his raven locks.

Brenda trembled and asked, "What... what's the black room?" "The black room is a small, windowless room painted pitch black. You'll be locked in a dog crate with no water or food. Who knows what else might be inside—could be rats, spiders, or even venomous snakes..." "No! I don't want to! This is illegal! You can't..." Before Brenda could finish, Cliff kicked her in the chest. "I'm giving you one last chance. Speak, or you'll rot there. I promise, it'll be worse than any death you can imagine."