Black Noir Novels & Stories

If it were night, no one could see the ten-foot-tall beast lurking in the forest. His eyes glowed electric green. As deep as the depth of this forest but there was rage in them, a fire that was waiting to be unleashed. To rip someone apart and have their head hung between his sharp, long canines. It required no pressure on my brain to know who it was... The formal werewolf king, Noah Black. Damn, he had a darker, more murderous aura than people described him. The other black wolf landed his forelegs on the ground with a thud, which shook the ground beneath us, and I tightly gripped the tree. It shouldn’t be who I think it was.

I said. Bex pulled up my profile. I looked at it. **NOVA BLACKTHORNE-VOSS** *Pack: Blackthorne-Voss (Hybrid)* *Year: 1* *Ability Score: Pending Assessment* *Ranking: Unranked* The photo I had submitted with my application — not the composed kind. The specific ordinary quality of someone who had not thought particularly hard about what a profile picture meant because profile pictures had not yet been the primary way the world was going to see her.

But I guess that was what this was. A black wedding. And then I saw him. The man of the fucking hour. Sitting on a high seat, a throne carved from blackened bone and obsidian. I’d heard that it was the remains of his enemies that built that throne, but I’d expect nothing less from Rhett Blackwood. His heavy arms rested on the lion-wolf hybrids sculpted into the stone armrests and his crown, a surprisingly simple black iron circlet, rested atop his raven locks.

The air in the North Tower’s deepest sub-level did not just carry the scent of dust and neglect; it carried the heavy, metallic tang of a past that had been buried alive. Silas Blackwood moved through the stacks of yellowed ledgers with a frantic, desperate energy. His gold-and-sapphire skin, a permanent brand of the divine unweaving he had endured, cast a rhythmic, flickering light against the stone walls. Each pulse of his aura felt like a heartbeat, irregular and pained.

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE

Meanwhile, Adrian came to my side, and looking at me with more questions, he picked me in his arms. «she needs a doctor, now,» he said and escorted me to the open room, Atlas’s room. I held on to him, it felt weird, he was angry, warm, and afraid, and fear radiate out of him. He placed me on the bed and I felt a bolt of pain in my left arm where the wound was healing, making me scream my heart out; I looked at my hand, seeing black veins covering the wound. «What is that?» asked Hunter. The pain was unbearable, but I knew what was this, black blood, I have been marked.

"Yes he has, Ibekwe. Be strong and have faith." James shuffled towards the door. "James!" "Yes, Ibekwe." "What will you call your new book?" "I thought of a simple but strong name. I will call it: Shading Black: The trilogy of an African village. The name fits it." "James!" Ibekwe called again. "Yes, Ibekwe." "The name of your book is perfect. Thank you for everything." James kept quiet. He raised his hands and wiped the tears in his eyes. "Goodbye, Ibekwe," he said.

She screamed and hid behind him when she saw us. “WHO ARE YOU?!” Big Boss exclaimed looking back and forth on us. I take a good look at him. He looks like the same age as me. “It’s not for you to know.” Black Dragon answered pointing his gun to him. I gripped my own gun, ready to use it if needed. Big Boss is about to move while the woman positioned to run. Black Dragon spoke. “Move even an inch and I’ll blow your heads simultaneously.” His voice sounded cold and emotionless. I looked at him and was startled to see his face expressionless. He looked like a professional cold blooded killer. Big Boss and the woman froze. Black Dragon turned to the woman.

I can't still believe I have formed a blood pact with a demon. Suddenly, my heart pumped wildly then I just saw in my mind my red-colored grace of the Cancer and his black curse joining as one. After these two orbs united, creating a black-crimson orb, a new sign was inscribed inside it. It was a sign that symbolizes a fox and a crab. “Now, let's get going. This is the birth of the Black Zodiac,” Mammon said then the Infinite Prison broke apart into pieces.

She stated, but the older man simply laughed. “Ah, don’t be like that, little lady. I’m sure there’s something else you can offer me.” The tone in his voice was mocking and his gaze, was something Noelle wasn’t comfortable with. It was a look, she knew too well, but at the same time, it wasn’t the same. Adrian Black was not a good man. In fact, he was far from being one. The type of business he was into, was the kind that involved drugs and prostitution and his men, were no better.