Black Court Novels & Stories

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."

In the center of the circle burned a brazier filled with black flame. “Cultists,” Zevran muttered. Kaelira nodded slowly. “The Order of the Eclipse. I thought they were gone.” “Apparently they didn’t get the message.” Before they could move, one of the figures turned toward them. Beneath the hood, the eyes glowed red—Moonlight twisted wrong. “Children of the Black Moon,” the voice hissed. “You sealed what was ours.” Zevran drew his blade. “Not sealed enough, apparently.”

Caspian entered the underground training room and stared at his father in the ring. “Mom hasn’t regained consciousness,” he said. Mr. Black turned. “Find the identity of the man within 24 hours, Caspian. He must be brought down,” he instructed. “I’m on it,” Caspian replied. More men in black suits entered the room. Thane stood at the other end. The Blackwood clan.

POV: Katherine Wilmot | Supernatural Court, Old Bailey Sub-level The courtroom beneath the Old Bailey had been built to intimidate, which it did effectively even when you knew that was the point. Katherine Wilmot sat in the defendant's chair with her wrists bound in iron cuffs etched with suppression runes and looked at the panel of seven judges, four of whom were vampires and three of whom were Hermetic Order members, and understood with the clarity that came from having no more illusions left to lose that this had been over before it started.

"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."