Black & White 소설 & 이야기

It was almost as if it was a time line as we walked down the hall. I saw a sword. Many different people held the sword as we walked. Sometimes it was a person outlined in black light, which was strange to see black light. It was not like the UV purple light that they called black light in the clubs. This was inky dark light. Almost like paint, but reflected as light. My physics brain couldn't wrap itself around the concept, and yet here it was right in front of me.

But for Alex, he automatically knew who it was as he immediately recognized his white hoodie that got splattered with paint in the colors of the rainbow. He scrolled up and as the caption, he simply had a blue heart emoji. "Blue."

“That’s right, sweetie. Some people believe they are magic.” Richard knelt in a crouch, trying to see inside the hay-strewn pen. “Albino?” “No,” answered the woman, shading her eyes, “not pure albino. But he’s the first true, white American bison calf to be born in many years, far as I know. His momma died. We’re keeping him separate, isolated from the other animals until we can find out what this disease is. He’s a sick boy, our Miracle is.”

Back then, there was no pain, no heartbreak, no grief… just pure, simple happiness. Suddenly, I realized I could no longer feel the rain hitting my body, even though it was still pouring down. I looked up and saw a black umbrella shielding me from the downpour. I turned around to see who was holding it. Standing there was a man dressed entirely in black. I stared into his eyes—deep, coal-black eyes that looked dull and lifeless. He stared back at me just as intensely. There was something mesmerizing about them, like a black diamond that held a strange kind of beauty despite its dullness.

I looked down the hallway and through the other side, and there was actually no one in sight. My heart hammered as I approached the large double office doors with D. BLACKWOOD engraved on the metal plate. I forced my trembling hand to knock. No answer. Great. I knocked again. Still nothing. Screw it. I pushed the door open— —and froze in place. Damian Blackwood sat behind his massive black desk. Sharp suit. Cuffed sleeves. Jaw tight enough to crack a diamond. He didn’t look up at me. Not even a glance. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by his deep voice.

It had been years of being the strong and young budding alpha female, and in one night, it seemed all of that had been taken away. The wolves of the Craw pack were black and strong, their eyes a variety of colors that changed based on their mood. The wolves of other packs had similar characteristics and sometimes you could only tell the difference based on scent and markings. “Other packs” however, did not include the Decent pack, the pack of the white wolves. They were the outcasts and had gone into hiding for many years now because as Isha had always been told, they were a mistake to the werewolf lineage.

Such mentally sick people. Kristen was about talking when Daniel entered the training ground, and everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and greeted him. Most of the female mobsters drooled at the sight of him. Wearing a sleeveless shirt and black leather pants, he was smoking hot. His exposed biceps weren't helping matters, as they added to his sexily fit body, making the females have wild thoughts. Kristen rolled her eyes. Daniel saw it but choose to ignore her. He had better things to do than calling the brat to order.

The Black Wolf was born from shadows and shaped by moonlight, but it always beat with the pulse of love, sacrifice, and resilience. Thank you for walking beside Vireya, through pain, through wonder, through storms and stars. This is not just the end of a story. It’s the echo of a legacy, the warmth of a reunion, and the reminder that even in the darkest forests, love finds its way home. There are more stories waiting just beyond the horizon, magical, bold, and unforgettable.

I cock up a brow though I know he can't see me. "You say the weirdest shit, Enzo," Silas dramatically gags on the other line. "I'm calling to see if you still intend to make it tonight." Of course, the Northern Sin. I look down at my watch and see it's already past 7 pm. The Northern Sin is the only club The Black Rose officially owns. It's licensed and shit. Only, behind the scenes, the majority of our business takes place there. Especially the drugs. We have filthy rich regular customers, competitors, and enemies fill the tables and dance floors every night.

Grey eyes, jagged black tattoos and sandy blonde hair crammed into a tight black shirt and pants. “Don’t attack! I’m White Forest, I’m White Forest!”