Black Court Novels & Stories

"And that's bad because?" "Because the Midnight Court just felt that power surge too. And they're going to be very, very afraid." As if summoned by his words, a new voice echoed through the mansion. Cold, aristocratic, and absolutely furious. " Fiona Blackthorne. You have violated the terms of your awakening. The Midnight Court hereby declares you a rogue royal, subject to immediate execution." But this time, the voice wasn't coming from a mysterious stranger. It was coming from Damon.

*[SFX: ELEVATOR. THEN SILENCE. THEN DOOR.]* *8:47 AM. [SFX: METAL DETECTOR. THEN FOOTSTEPS. THEN TENSION.]* Criminal Courts Building. 12th floor. Not public entrance. Back. Levinson’s badge. “Counsel and clients. Judge Harmon. Chambers.” Me. Black suit. “Fuck you professional.” Susan’s words. Fits like armor. Doesn’t feel like armor.

No one had ever told them what kind of monsters Black Claw could raise. Devin corners one behind the smokehouse, wringing information out of him like water from a pelt. The answer is always the same: someone, somewhere, has promised them land. A new Luna, with a brood of three, is a threat that must be erased. No names, only scent, vague as the wind. Elena recognizes council politics, but the precision is not their style. This is the old wild, the territory of ghost alphas and the mad packs that never took to cities or treaties. In the spring, Elena stands watch over a pyre. Rogues do not get burials, but Black Claw burns the bodies, just the same. She holds the triplets in her arms, and the

At my hands folded in my lap. At the tiny crescent mark my nail had pressed into my palm. Lucian sat beside me, still as stone. But beneath the table, his knee touched mine. It was a point of contact. A quiet beam. The judge entered just then and everyone stood. My heart began to pound so hard I wondered if everyone could hear it. The matter was called. Blackthorne v. Frostbane. The name struck me strangely. Not Blackthorne v. Blackthorne. Not husband and wife. Blackthorne v. Frostbane.

"I built an empire in his name. I killed people in his name. I told myself it was justice." "It was both," Francesca says. "That's how it usually works." Alessandra looks out the window at the city sliding past. All those ordinary people in their ordinary lives, none of them knowing that the woman in the black Escalade is three days away from a reckoning that has been seventeen years in the making. "Call me when Carmine is ready to talk," she says. "Already done," Francesca says. "He's ready now."

He was simply stating facts, and that made them hurt more. “I want to prove myself,” I said quietly. “I need to. For Adele. For the crown that was taken from me.” Tyson flicked ash from the cigarette. “Good. Because I need you to prove it too.” He looked at me directly. “Do you know about the Black Book?” I shook my head. “No.” He took one last drag and dropped the cigarette into the water. It hissed and disappeared. “It’s a book that holds the darkest secrets of the royal family. It will deliver the royal family straight to my hands.”

Thick forests concealed the entrance, while towering cliffs hid vast caverns carved into a kingdom of black stone. Unlike Zelios, there were no electric floodlights or military discipline. The Crimson Court embraced darkness. Hundreds of crimson lanterns burned with a steady glow, casting warm red light across polished obsidian floors. Ancient pillars disappeared into the cavern ceiling, their surfaces etched with symbols older than recorded history. Silence ruled here. Not because the inhabitants feared speaking. But because every word spoken in the Court carried weight. At its center rose a circular throne carved from a single slab of black stone.

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."

Three Years Later ♠️CASPIAN♠️ The city looks different from the top now. I stand on the balcony of the penthouse that used to be my father’s, now mine. The Blackwood name still opens doors, but the empire runs darker these days. Legitimate on paper. Underground in truth. They call me Don now. The Bloodhounds, once just whispers in boardrooms, became reality after the old man’s conviction. Someone had to hold the leash. Someone had to keep them fed.

"I won't let them harm us." Aunt Cleo's voice sliced through the air like a warning bell, her words laced with urgency and gravity. "Aqua, you need to grasp the true threat of the coven. They're not just ordinary casters. Each possesses unique abilities, ranging from unnaturally swift regeneration and inhuman strength to the sinister power to manipulate creatures and even people, turning them into spies. Some even boast of an unnerving form of immortality, extending their lives far beyond the natural order. And worst of all, they have the terrifying capability to absorb the powers of other casters."