Black Gates Lotr Novels & Stories

Just the thunder of hooves and the sound of 200 hearts beating as one. We hit the border of Council territory by mid-morning. The air changed. It was thicker here. Heavier. The trees were twisted, the grass brown and dead. You could smell the burn in the air — ash and old blood. “Blackthorn Keep is two miles ahead,” Garrick said, keeping his voice low. “The ruins sit on a hill. High ground. They’ll see us coming. The seers will be in the east tower — they always keep them back, protected.”

He wants me as another nameless woman in his collection. We reach the gravel driveway just as a massive black limousine pulls up to the main entrance. The windows are completely blacked out, reflecting the grey sky. A cold spike of dread hits my stomach. My inner wolf, April, stirs instantly, her claws digging into my consciousness. Gage tenses beside me, his arm snapping out to block my path. "Betty, stay behind me." "What is it?" I whisper, my eyes locked on the vehicle. "The black kingdom," Gage says, his voice dropping into a harsh register. "He is a relative of yours. You can feel the blood pull, can you not?"

I closed my eyes and let myself shatter, imagining storm-grey eyes watching me as I fell apart. "Declan, wake up. You need to see the gates." I nudged him without looking away from the transport's reinforced window. He let out a low groan, stretching his neck until his joints popped. "Are we in the Blackwood Territory already?" "I think so," I whispered. The soundproof partition was up, separating us from the Dominion driver. "Look at the entrance." The massive iron gates, forged in the shape of howling wolves, swung inward with a heavy, rhythmic groan. As the car began to roll down the long, winding drive, Declan unbuckled and leaned over my shoulder. "Are those frost-blossoms?"

The world didn’t yet understand what that would mean. Link sat beside her, his hand wrapped around hers, thumb stroking gently. “We’re almost home.” They crested the final ridge and the trees opened. Greyhowl Estate stood like a sentinel in the clearing, wrought of stone and iron and time. Its towers reached toward the sky, ivy twisting up its bones like veins of memory. Beyond its walls, the mountains loomed like slumbering beasts. Security drones buzzed high in the sky, invisible to the human eye but registering on enchanted radar. A sentry spell triggered at the gate, bathing the SUV in faint gold light before dissolving.

Finn did, barely, as though some instinct had nearly made him come after me before caution held him where he stood. The gate felt colder than it should have under my hand. When I stepped out onto the road beyond, the night hit me all at once, damp, metallic, open in the wrong way, and the sound from the yard behind me dulled as the gate shut. I stood there for a moment without moving, my pulse still hard, Garrick’s words reverberating in me with every beat. Are you truly Blackthorn?

I muttered under my breath, dread already washed my body. His eyes lit with something feral. “Oh, I intend to see you do that, it'll be my entertainment and even the Moon would be useless to your prayers” He said, turning back to the front. In few minutes, we arrived at his estate after nightfall. Blackthorn pack was less a home and more a prison carved from hard stones. Towering iron gates creaked open as we entered. The scent of rain filled the night air, but nothing softened the darkness of the structure ahead.

Later, as we sat watching the sky, I whispered, “What do you feel now?” He was quiet for a long time. “Like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff,” he said. “And something is calling from the bottom.” "Don’t answer.” “I won’t. Not as long as you’re here.” I nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.” The sky cracked overhead. A sound, low and ancient, rolled across the mountains. The Black Gate was opening.

“I don’t know. But nothing—nothing—will make me stop wanting you.” She pressed her face to his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and prayed he was right. The ninth day brought them to the edge of the true Nocturne wilds. Pines gave way to black-barked trees with silver leaves that chimed softly in the wind. Magic hung thicker here—old, watchful. They reached the Blackwood Gate at dusk: massive iron-bound doors set into a wall of living thornwood, guarded by Lycans. Elara’s first sight of true Lycans stole her breath.

Jenniri said pointing out the window. The others stopped what they were doing and looked at the portal. A gasp came from Helena as someone appeared to come out of the portal. Her silver and black hair was cut short, her face bore the war marks of the tyrannical Celestial that she had sworn allegiance to so long ago. She wore dark silk robes and in her hands was a crystal hilted sword, its blade shining brighter than ever before. Next to her appeared dozens of dark robed figures, each of them in a stance of combat. The Chosen were looking upon Demonya Draysiah, one of their own. She had cast aside her title as a guardian and Gatekeeper. It was because of her that all of them had been separate

He can't find me. I have to run away, somewhere, anywhere. He just can't find me. He may already know where I am for all I know. I walked right into a hard wall, stumbling back I lost my balance. I waited for my body to come in contact with the ground but it never came. I opened my tightly shut eyes, all the breath was knocked out of my lungs as I stared into a mesmerizing pair of green eyes. "Mr Black?" His face was barely an inch away from mine, his breath fanned against my face.