Black Joker Siberian Iris Novels & Stories

The hotel sandal he was wearing fell to the floor. "Hey, I have to finish my business here to take that dog to its master and kick my ass back to America ASAP. Can't we work together now?" Iris was getting emotional right now. Usually, Jonathan never sucks like this. But suddenly she remembered Jonathan's words at that time. About a demon that can turn into an animal to hide from hunters. Her brain was thinking so fast that it felt like her mind was spinning. The husky dog ​​is a striped gray, cold expression and fierce with other hunters. Iris suddenly took a few steps back when she realized that. Her mouth was in a strange smile and her hands brushed her hair back roughly.

I had heard the rumors—this place was as much a part of Iris as she was of it, a lair where she could weave her dark magic undisturbed. As I stepped closer, the door creaked open, revealing Iris standing in the threshold. She was just as I remembered—tall, with sharp, angular features and long, raven-black hair that cascaded down her back like a dark river. Her eyes were a piercing shade of violet, cold and calculating, a glimmer of something ancient and powerful lurking beneath the surface. "Alpha Blackburn," she said, her voice low and silky, but laced with an edge that sent a shiver down my spine. "I knew you'd come. I've been waiting for you."

"Don't come here; I will beat you to death if you come near." But the black wolf didn't mind; it still didn't stop. How come... A familiarity popped into my head as I looked into the black wolf's eyes. "Ryan," I exclaimed happily. Indeed, the black wolf is Ryan. He and Diana are very similar when transformed, except that he is more extensive, and his eyes are like his feathers, a jet-black color. He walked over to me, bent his head to sniff the blood on my leg, and then licked my wound. I was startled and felt a little tickle; I giggled and pushed him away. But Ryan has no intention of stopping; he keeps doing what he wants, and I know it could be that he wants to heal and comfort me.

Yman's body was enveloped by black mana as he was slowly pushing his body to get up. The Noble Rat wondered if this person just playing dead a moment ago. Never did the Noble Rat expected for this human to hide such a card up his sleeves. He was dying just a moment ago, but now, his body had something weird on it. The current Yman has ears the same as the Noble Rat but it colored like black smoke. His hands have black long nails but the sizes and forms were the same as that of the Noble Rat and his eyes had turned red, but in this state, his vision was unhindered in this dark surroundings. He even has a black tail grown on its back the same as the Noble rat.

He was dressed into a neat black tuxedo that snugly fit his lean physique, the top hat adorning his head faintly shadowing his heavily painted face, making his appearance all the more frightening as she stared, completely frozen. Black smokey shadows circled his dark eyes, starkly contrasting that pasty white smearing the rest of his features and that deep, burgundy red over his lips that continued to stretch into two fine lines across his cheeks, his general appearance scaling between The Joker and of a dia de los muertos character. This is no old man...Her mind whispered as it immediately concluded that he, this absolutely terrifying man before her must definitely be the owner of this plac

Alpha Altan, ignoring Vladimir's words, looked at Zeta Eli in surprise at his question because, as far as he could remember, he hadn't mentioned it in front of anyone. Howl Wolf Vladimir has black hair and hazel brown eyes. His eyes are the most striking feature: golden irises, flecks of hazel brown embedded in his pupils. His nose is also very prominent, as are his chin and jawline - His wolf persona was a gift to him from the Goddess. "Your body smells like a vampire," he said, pouring some green-colored liquid into a bowl which the Alpha Altan finished in one breath. Today, I feel very strange about that dickhead," Alpha Altan said as he placed the cup back on the table.

There was only one person who had ever called me that. Slowly, I was able to turn, dread weighing me down. My eyes met his—cold, piercing blue eyes that radiated danger and malice. I swallowed the lump that seemed to be stuck in my throat. It was him. Joker. The man Tommy had sold me to. My worst nightmare, standing just a few feet away. But how? What was he doing here? Panic surged through me, my mind racing. I had no idea how Archer’s world operated, but I knew one thing, Archer hated the Russians. Joker was Russian. So how on earth had he made it here?

" He speaks lowly with a thudding heart, his voice laced in regret and remorse. And that's when he saw her tilt up her face to look up at him. His footsteps staggered back as he stared at her eyes. Terror raided his insides. The innocent teary gray eyes he was staring at intently while entering her few minutes ago. We're no longer there. Rather, her eyes were jet black ,with no white visible. Pupils, sclera. Everything was black, just like the liquid surrounding her. " Grrrrrhhhhhh" He heard a low groan leave her lips, an aura of dread and evil surrounded her. Zander gulps. Failing to even recognize the woman in front of him.

I smirk, "more like my mates. Plural Jack. They're quite territorial you know?" He gawps, "two? Mates? That's just a legend!" He gasps. I shake my head, "no legend." I move my neck from side to side and show him the marks. Jack's face pales and he swallows with a nod, "lets just get this done so I can go back to my pack." After shifting into our wolves, we start circling. Jack is a big black wolf with a white flash across his tail, and piercing blue eyes; not beautiful, but freaky. It doesn't go with his wolf or his nature.

I demanded, my voice dropping into that ragged, double-toned scrap of my sovereign authority as I forced myself to stand, my knees trembling but locking in place. The commander raised a gloved hand, slowly unlocking the clasps of his silver visor. As he pulled the metal away, my heart stopped. He didn't have the golden eyes of our pack, or the pale blue eyes of the northern outcasts. His eyes were entirely pitch-black, the sclera and pupils fused into a solid, liquid void—the exact same terrifying, bottomless black that Killian’s eyes became when his feral wolf took complete control.