Black Reapers Novels & Stories

Reaper Swithin said, blowing his nose and taking in the air. "AAHHHHH! This Moroi blood!" Reaper Swithun Johnson is the guardian of Strigoi Grave Risen Coven. He has ginger hair and blue eyes and always wears a black dress coat with silver buttons. He is tall and lean, with a sharp jawline and a piercing gaze that can make even the bravest of souls tremble. Reaper Swithun is known for his unwavering loyalty to the coven and his fierce protection of its members. After Ace, Reaper is second in command in the coven.

“Is he static, too?” For the first time, a flicker of something other than sorrow crossed Lachesis’s face. It was a weary, ancient pity. “You misunderstand the Reaper’s purpose, Prince of Hell. The Raven Reapers are not vultures drawn to carrion. They are a function, as old as we are. They are the enforcement arm of destiny.”

He eyes us both before explaining. "You're right. Whether you chose to disclose the update about Mazari Electronics or not, it wouldn't matter." "Why not?" "The triad has become aware of a new threat. He calls himself the Reaper. He took out the Black Dragons in Los Angeles and seems to be going after the 14K."

"The service elevator is compromised. We go through the roof. My men are holding the stairwell, but the Blackwood Elders have sent their 'Reapers.'" "Reapers," Killian spat the word like it was poison. He grabbed my waist, hauling me to my feet with a strength that felt both terrifying and intoxicating. He didn't just hold me; he claimed me, his body a shield against the chaos. "They’re sending the failed prototypes to do their dirty work. They’re desperate." "They aren't just desperate, Killian," Julian said, checking his magazine. "They’re coordinated. The Russians have provided satellite overwatch. They know exactly where we are."

One of the Black Reapers’ unofficial hangouts. Levi slipped inside. I waited thirty seconds, then moved closer—far enough to stay hidden, close enough to see. A man approached Levi’s table. Broad shoulders. Cocky swagger. Cheap leather jacket. It was Tommy, the head of the Black Reapers. He sat across from Levi, who looked like he was about to be sick.

The bone man followed my lead, exploring the world through my eyes. He looked at the lines on my hands, the swell of my breasts and legs. The sinews and tendons fascinated him. We walked barefoot together. He tasted the air with my lips. I've missed my heart, you know. His bones rattled, aching for life. The black shroud wrapped round us, and he formed himself from the wind. Will you dance with me? said the Reaper. “What are you?” I asked. Your companion. He looked at my hands, now his. They were bare bones. Maiden, you will never be rid of me.

The sky was clear, thanks to Leo’s scarecrow, but the horizon was dusty. "They're moving," Vance said, lowering his binoculars. "Ironwood's ground forces." We stood on the roof of the farmhouse. To the East, a line of vehicles stretched across the highway. Tanks. APCs. And massive, strange machines that looked like combine harvesters, but armored in gray plate. "Reapers," Silas noted. "Agricultural destruction units. They are designed to mulch biomass." "They're coming for the corn," Martha said. She stood beside us, holding a pouch of

The luxury hotel roof was a frantic landscape of humming ventilation fans and gravel that crunched under our boots. The black helicopter hung in the air like a mechanical vulture, its searchlight sweeping the building with a blinding, clinical intensity. We were two silhouettes against the gray London sky, exposed and bleeding, but Malakai didn't look like a man on the run. He looked like a man who had just invited the world to a war they weren't prepared to fight. ​"They're deploying fast-ropes!" I shouted, pointing toward the dark shapes descending from the chopper's belly. The Reapers were coming for the final harvest, their black tactical gear making them look like spiders dropping from

She pushes past me and steps out onto the balcony. I follow her out into the cold, red-tinted night. We lean over the railing, peering into the shadows below. "It's a natural phenomenon," Liviel explains, her voice still a little tight. "But the Blood Moon triggers extreme agitation and aggression in all Dark Faction creatures. That includes Reapers, you know. Haven't you felt it?" Agitation. Well, that explains a lot. No wonder I felt like a hyperactive sociopath today. CRASH! Another violent sound of shattering wood and glass shakes the floorboards beneath our feet, yanking me out of my thoughts.

His voice trembled when he said, "I'm sorry, Wendy. I… I shouldn't have hurt Ryan. Please forgive me. I'll never do it again. We can start over now that Faith's out of the picture. We can have another pup." He totally lost it when he realized that I wasn't moved by his words. "I'm the Alpha of the Blackrock pack! The rest of the wolves won't let you off the hook if I die! You'll be joining me in death, Wendy!" I crouched down and tightened my grip on his chin, smiling when I heard his bones crack under my fingers. "Is that so?"