Black Court Novels & Stories

It just wasn't the whole truth. She nodded, apparently satisfied, and returned to reviewing our presentation. I looked out the tinted car window. The closer we got, the harder my heart pounded. Seven years. I'd spent seven years convincing myself I was over Ethan Blackwood. Now, in less than ten minutes, I'd know whether that was true. The sleek glass tower came into view. Blackwood Enterprises. It looked exactly as I remembered. Elegant. Powerful. Untouchable. Just like the man who owned it.

Below the terrace, the grand courtyard of the Blackwood estate had been transformed into a sea of absolute silver. Three full battalions of the elite vanguard stood in rigid, flawless formations, their polished breastplates and raised spears catching the first golden rays of the morning sun. In the dead center of the courtyard stood the gallows—a massive, skeletal structure of dark oak, its thick hemp noose swaying gently in the freezing mountain wind.

the leader of their council said. There was so much hatred in the way he spoke to me, and I wondered what he was talking about. "What did you find out?" I asked him. " You possessed a dark lunar magic and this has brought about some kind of darkness to our pack, we do not accept that kind of magic here and anyone who brings such to us will be punished" he said. It sounded like some lame joke, I am never with such kind of magic, what has this got to do with me?

I nod, though my palms are damp, and my hands are trembling but I’m here for me and for my mother. The bailiff announces the judge’s entrance, and everyone rises. The moment feels surreal, like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life, someone braver, someone stronger. When we sit again, my heart is pounding so hard I’m sure Victoria can hear it from across the room. The judge adjusts his glasses and scans the room. “This court acknowledges the case of Blackthorne versus Blackthorne,” he says evenly. “Let us proceed.” Victoria’s lawyer stands first. He’s older. Smooth. The kind of man who sounds reasonable even when he’s lying.

The auctioneer casually shrugs. “If you don’t believe us, you’re welcome to inspect the records yourself. Anytime you want. We have everything documented—every crime, every victim, and every piece of evidence. Here at the Dark Knights, we don’t deal in rumors or half-truths. We deal in facts. And the fact is simple: Nolan Blackwood isn’t here because of bad luck or some conspiracy. He’s here because he deserves to be, just like everyone else before him.” Damon looks sick. He stumbles back, his hand raking through his hair as he stares at his brother, who’s now frantically trying to break out of the booth.

I gave a signal to my Beta. As she was dragged out, her screams echoed through the entire building. “Rylan! You’ll regret this! She’ll never forgive you!” Three days later. The Shadow Dungeons, deep in the Black Forest. This was where the Blackrock pack imprisoned its worst criminals. It hadn’t been used in centuries. The dungeon was buried deep underground, its walls made of special silver-laced stone that could completely suppress a wolf’s powers. I walked down the slippery stone steps, my footsteps echoing in the empty space.

He didn’t deserve me anyway. As I neared the altar, I finally let myself look up. And forgot how to breathe. Nate Blackthorne stood waiting. Tall, easily six-four. Broad shoulders that stretched his black suit. Dark hair swept back from a face that could have been carved from stone. Sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. A mouth that looked like it rarely smiled. He looked like death personified. Beautiful and terrible. But it was his eyes that made my steps falter. Pale blue, like winter frost and was fixed entirely on me.

The Commander's voice was calm and triumphant. A sinister shadow materialized behind him, and the two soldiers flanking Caleb were sent hurtling into the crowd of onlookers. The leader staggered aside, revealing my brother with unsettling clarity. A dark, swirling aura emanated from Caleb's figure, his eyes ignited in a fierce crimson glow at the center of intricate black lines spreading across his skin, tracing down his face and neck. Waves of raw power surged from him, palpable in the air, as he took a deliberate step closer to me. He lunged forward with clawed hands towards the commander just before falling to the ground, revealing the man that was standing behind him, a sword hilt held t

Blackwood. TBC!!