Novel & Cerita Black Family Crest Harry Potter

“Did he... did the ceremony go through I ran? Is it him? Is he marking me over the woods?” “No, no,” Jax answered, and his face burnt in the flickering fire-light, his voice shook in a manner that seemed to me more than the suffering. "Thorne is a Blackthorn. They have a jagged thorny crown and it is the sign of power and blood. This... this is something else. It appears to be the leftover of the Old Gods, the sign of the First Packs. I have never even heard of this in the forbidden scrolls. It shouldn't exist, Jessica. This has not been witnessed on this earth in centuries.”

He took my hand and said, "Honey, what should we do? Someone's claiming I forced you into a soul bond." I shot him a helpless look. "Don't be jealous of just anyone. He's our little nephew." Damian seemed appeased. "Indeed. As elders, we should show more tolerance." He took my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it. "Honey, show him your ring." I raised my right hand. Adorning my ring finger was the Blackwood family crest ring—a pink diamond with a wolf's head totem inlaid at its center. It was a symbol reserved solely for the Luna.

"What symbol?" I hesitated. If I told him, there was no going back. No more pretending this was just about recovering lost memories. But I was done being protected like I was made of glass. "A black crest. Circular. With a broken crown inside it." Rowan went completely still. Not tense, still. Like he'd stopped breathing. "That's impossible." Lucien's voice cut through the silence from the doorway. Elias appeared behind him, his face drained of color. "No," Elias said quietly. "It's not."

Beside the entry was a black sigil shaped like a fang cutting through a circle. Jesse’s expression hardened. “What is that?” I asked. “An old Pureblood faction mark.” My gaze dropped to the name beside it. Frank Rivers.

The girl I refused. But it isn’t the picture that makes my blood run cold. It’s the symbol engraved beneath it. A crescent moon wrapped in thorns. My grip tightens around the locket. Karl notices immediately. “You know that crest?” For a moment, I can’t speak. Because only one bloodline carries that mark. The Stormriders. And they were all supposed to be dead.

I narrowed my eyes but before I asked anything, I heard his deep voice “You’ve been invited, Black.” Hearing it, my stomach tightened. I knew Cross had a secret society. And in there, his loyal followers did whatever their master asked them to do, no matter what it was. But why did he give me this invitation? Looking at my confused expression, Aiden smirked and said “Try not to disappoint us.” Then he walked away, leaving me staring at the envelope. I took it with shaking hands and looked at the stamp across the seal. It was a silver wolf head which symbolized the Cross family and there was a name written in block letters “OBSIDIAN CIRCLE”.

I had handed my entire future, my divinity, my home, to someone unworthy of a single hour of it. The next morning, Karl did the unthinkable. "Aylin, this is Cersei.” She walked in beside him like she already owned the room. Dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothes. But my divinity sensed it immediately: dark aura. Something sat wrong around her like a shadow that didn't match the light. "Did you hear?” Kael said again. “This is Cersei Blackcrest.” And there it was. The Blackcrest pack, dreaded for generations, was known by their reputation. Dark magic and sorcery both of which had been banned in the werewolf land. But things fell through after Sylas, their leader died and left the pack ruined and

“This place belongs to your boyfriend’s family.” “What?” I asked, feeling my body tense. Harry tilted his head and took a cigarette from the inner pocket of his coat. “That son of a bitch didn’t lie about being an heir—actually, I think that was the only truth he told you. But he’s not inheriting companies; he’s inheriting a branch of a mafia family.” “This… this… can’t be true. Mr. Harris is an heir, and he and Daniel—” I stammered, trying to make sense of it all, but nothing seemed to add up in my head.

Whoever lurked in the dark wasn’t finished. I forced myself to my feet, eyes darting. For a heartbeat, I caught the glint of a figure melting back into the black—too fast, too practiced. But what froze me wasn’t the shadow. It was the dagger that had missed me, now quivering upright in the ground. The hilt bore the unmistakable crest. A wolf’s skull, crowned in iron thorns. Shadowfang. My blood turned to ice. That crest belonged to my father’s bloodline. My bloodline.

“There was a woman with black hair and a death’s head moth on the front of her dress by the drinks, l saw with my own eyes as she moved her hand over a glass that was given to the Luna, l think she put something in it “, “Death’s Head Moth? That was the family crest for….”, My eyes I’mmediately swapped up to the crowd and l scanned every face of the noble shewolves until when I found her. “Rhea, is she that woman?”, I pointed and Rhea spun around. “Yes Alpha, she is the one who put something in the drink”, She nodded her head vigorously.