Black Court Novels & Stories

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.

She would have Callisto at her side, and Azrael too. But of the fallen, I had given up a while ago. "No!" I thought, "Asmodeus NEEDS to be on my side." ⋅ ♱ ⋅ The black sun made the sky of hell darker and darker, it was a true work of art, and not even the 7 chapters devoted to its description was enough to define how truly stunning it was. The crimson sky, the dark and cold sun, the gray clouds, and in the background, well hidden among the black mountains, there were small glows.

He certainly knew how much she disliked Dana on their first meet. Eira groaned in frustration. “Do I look like a tutor to him? I’d rather be left alone.” ____________ The Black Hall was a dodgy place fit for creatures of the night. It had been more than just a hall once, Nate could tell from the ruins at the front that greeted anyone who visited it. A castle, perhaps, that once belonged to a high lord. Alex claimed it to have belonged to him, but Nate didn’t believe that man. All that remained of it was a hall now with black walls and cracked marble floor beneath a dome-shaped ceiling made of painted glass that let water droplets in every time the clouds wept.

Chapter Thirteen: More to it than she'll ever know It was not odd to find Damien Blackwood here on a Friday night, in this office, sitting on the swivel, fine, white leather chair and enjoying premium, well- aged whisky. Old Boy was his favourite. It had a vicious, yet gratifying kick to it and it left an unforgettable flavour on the throat that only lingered for half a second and tempted another drink. Like every other man, he desired only the finest, most exquisite entertainment which is discreetly and expertly organised, that's why he preferred Cubia Morne. Cubia Morne was a nightclub for the elites, the most expensive there is in the world; it was only affordable to the richest of the ri

Xareth’s voice cracked through the room like lightning splitting a tree. In one swift motion, he seized her by the throat and lifted her clean off the ground. Her legs flailed mid-air, her fingers clawing desperately at his hand. “I warned you,” he growled, low and lethal. “If you dare meddle in my affairs again, or defy my rule, I’ll send you back to the Black Abyss.” The Black Abyss? Even through the pain clouding my thoughts, that phrase echoed in my mind. People say cruel things when they're angry, but that didn’t sound like a metaphor. That sounded like a place.

He shoved the silver ring deep into his pocket and turned, sprinting silently up the dark stone stairs toward the courtyard. I stepped back into the freezing shadows of my cell. Cillian thought he had won by locking himself away with his broken mate. But by midnight, his kingdom would burn. I would kill his slut of a mate and rule as the Queen of the Blackwood Court. If it is not me, then it would not be anybody else—especially not the slut of that Omega.

"This obsession is going to bleed both of your cartels dry, Tristan. It’s reckless." "I don't give a damn about the cost, Duskryn. That male wolf tore up my pride in front of my own enforcers. He will pay the blood price." "Then we need to move faster. If he secures the high court alliance, your lock on his name won't mean a thing." "I’m hitting the underground circuits tonight, Nyx. I need a drink to wash the scent of that Blackmoor bastard out of my nose." "Then we go to the main strip in the Nightfall Territory. The neon doesn't wake up until midnight, but the blood-wine flows heavy."

•|•|• Adeline, do you not know that you have saved me from eternal damnation? My soul only rests in your embrace. Without it, I am not a man, not even beast, I become things unknown. I devolve into nightmare and shadow. I become—wrath entirely. •|•|• [KAYOS ADREN PRIME] The Black Death deforms into a cloud of smoke, shadow, and night, descending the outer walls of the Night Court in broad daylight from the High Window.

Damian looked away first. A gavel struck. “All rise.” The courtroom stood as the judge entered, a stern woman with sharp eyes and an air that suggested she had seen far worse than broken contracts and disputed DNA results. When everyone sat again, the room fell into a silence that pressed against Damian’s ears. “This court is now in session,” the judge said evenly. “We are here to address the matter of Blackwood v. The Private Hospital and Surrogate Agency, and Evelyn Carter.” Evelyn Carter.

The morning sun was a cruel reminder of the Sun King’s presence, casting long, sharp shadows across the reconstructed courtyard of the Blackwood Keep. But inside the South Wing, the air remained cool, smelling of ozone and the damp earth of Lyra’s shadow-magic. For Silas Blackwood, the South Wing was no longer a part of his territory; it was a foreign embassy where he was a petitioner with no standing.