Black Nightwing Novels & Stories

My makeup was light and mainly nude, the only exception was the winged eyeliner that made my sleepy eyes the star of the show, with soft gold eye color and pinkish nude my look was done, I looked at myself in my reflection and I was pretty amazed, I looked good, my gaze fell down my neck and I saw the empty spot on my neck were my mate should one day mark me, I felt my heart hurting at the memories that flashed in front of my eyes, it was this very same place I was rejected in three years ago, but the connection never completed to begin with, he just refused me for a reason he refused to say. I was glad to hear he refused to come his mother and Justin’s wife were sisters which made him Adeli

He heard his father resorted with frustration in his voice. “Dear, you shouldn’t be here. Go back to your room.” His mother hurriedly whispered when she noticed him listening to their conversation. “Wait, did you just say men in black?” Hyde resorted when he came back to his senses. His companion didn’t speak but answered him with a mere nod. “Oh, and one more thing, she also said that one of them has some kind of black bird tattoo on the neck.” Hyde was stunned when he heard about the tattoo. He’s certain, that the deceased man was one of them—or just a scapegoat.

The king was focused to Chief Black at once. "We found this in hidden in the belongings of the crown princess, Your Majesty." Chief Black lifted his hand for everyone to see. I gasped and my throat ran dry when I saw what he was holding. It is a black little bottle with black lid. "And we found out that it indeed contains the deadly extract of the poisonous flower Lily of Morte." I felt like my whole world crumbled into ashes. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. It felt like doom was suddenly in front, standing right before me.

Henry*** The night air was electric as the growl of engines shattered the silence. A fleet of sleek, armored vehicles snaked through the dense forest, their headlights cutting through the shadows like blades. At the center of it all was a black Rolls-Royce, its polished exterior gleaming ominously under the pale moonlight. The vehicle was a statement—a declaration of power, wealth, and unshakable authority.

"That must be a great sight to behold." "Yes it was! The man's back was widely open and not only did I see his stomach where food enters and leave, I also saw his heart. My sister! I saw his heart. It was lifeless. Honestly, it was not beating at all and it was black," Nnamaka said, she was not smiling again. "When I saw his black heart, I moved away from him. It would only take a very powerful evil diviner to have such a darkened heart." "Don't be offended by my curiosity. How do you know that he is a diviner?"

I’ll even help you deal with any of them. “And how would I know you won’t back stab me?” “The same way I know you won’t. It’s not your reputation. Look up Black Dogs. You know of them?” “Order of mercenaries.” “Bingo,” the man said. “Asked them about Vanargand.” “I see.” “You heard of the name?” “It’s another name for Fenrir, monster-wolf of Norse mythology.” “I thought using Fenrir could be copyright infringement, or just piss the guy off.” “That would be unwise.”

It keeps me from looking at the horizon and wondering where he is. “They’re here,” Marcus murmurs beside me, sounding nervous. He has every right to be. The Blackthorn cavalcade enters the courtyard with the subtle presence of a thunderhead. They don’t march, they prowl. There are twenty of them, moving with the synchronized, silent tread of apex predators. Blackthorn warriors are not like ours. They don’t wear polished steel and crests. They wear matte black armor, scarred leather, and expressions that promise violence at the slightest provocation.

“Two Alphas claiming the same fragile little Luna? How embarrassing.” The growl that tore from Zander’s chest sounded like it came straight from hell. “Choose your next words carefully.” Rowan’s voice was colder. Deadly. “Or you won’t have teeth left to say them.” The stranger’s smile widened. “Oh, but I thought you’d want to know who threatens your little arrangement.” He bowed — mockingly. “I am Cassian Blackwater. Firstborn Alpha Prince of the Shadow Pack.” The crowd behind us gasped. Shadow Pack.

This absence of allegiance seemed appropriate for a space intended to transcend the divisions that had brought them to this precipice. The Shadow Knight arrived first, his transformed essence maintaining controlled manifestation despite the temptation toward intimidating display. Midnight armour flowed around bone framework with deliberate restraint as constellation patterns shifted within his form. The forgotten souls integrated within his transformed substance remained vigilant but composed, their collective determination tempered by cosmic awareness regarding the significance of this unexpected parley.