Blackfire Novels & Stories

Black shouted, in a deep, raspy voice with a slight hoarseness, completely different from Zain 's, especially as his shriek was angry. “I’ll finish you,” Jon muttered to Black laughing sarcastically, “No one can finish me, Jon.” He was not surprised that the other knew him, he knows how smart his opponent is. "Yes, I can finish you when I finish this girl here," he sneered, only to be shrieked by Renee afterwards! without even touching it Zain and his wolf almost went crazy. Black turned to Lucas, who recites spells and curses, did he get his book back without noticing!!!

The fire erupted. It burst through her skin black and wild, devouring. Trees splintered like bones cracking under an unseen hand. Small creatures shrieked and vanished into ash. The familiar they had conjured together — that luminous, impossible creation — screamed as it was wrenched into the world unbidden. Its twin followed, both howling, their light torn ragged by the black tide. Sierra fell to her knees. The storm inside her chest became the storm outside. She screamed, but it wasn’t a human sound anymore.

Xareth’s voice cracked through the room like lightning splitting a tree. In one swift motion, he seized her by the throat and lifted her clean off the ground. Her legs flailed mid-air, her fingers clawing desperately at his hand. “I warned you,” he growled, low and lethal. “If you dare meddle in my affairs again, or defy my rule, I’ll send you back to the Black Abyss.” The Black Abyss? Even through the pain clouding my thoughts, that phrase echoed in my mind. People say cruel things when they're angry, but that didn’t sound like a metaphor. That sounded like a place.

“you had better not flatter yourself nor get ahead of yourself either. You won’t even be able to control yourself much more control any darn thing. And most especially not him, nobody controls Salvatore.” He didn’t like women with opinions. He liked silence. He liked obedience. He liked brainless porcelain. And Sapphire? Sapphire was fire. Sharp. Reckless. The kind of woman who’d slit your throat mid-kiss. She lowered her eyes. Played with the oversized rock on her finger like she needed something to do with her hands. The ring didn’t suit her. None of this did. She looked like a doll in the wrong box. A queen trapped in a cheap glass castle. And I really wish that she knew it.

he demanded. The hackers are frustrated as well. They never encountered a server which they cannot hack. "No, this firewall is new and different. Exceptionally well curated for the needs of the Gawin and Woods group. This is not available anywhere in the market" one of them explained. After trying for an hour more, they gave up.

“Find them.” Hunter doesn't look up as he mutters “I'm trying.” “I said find them.” “And unless you've developed advanced network-forensics skills over Christmas, shut the fuck up and let me work.” Ordinarily that would earn him a response. Today I barely hear it because I'm looking around the table again. Saint notices first and also glances around suspiciously. Of course he fucking does. His expression changes slightly as my attention moves from one face to another. Nine men I work beside. Nine men who went through the same initiations as I did and my three closest friends did. Men who know enough about The Hollow to understand what that thread means. Nine men who don't earn my trust just

The recipient line didn't bear my father's name, nor did it list any known executive at our former firm. Printed in crisp, automated typeface was a single registered corporate alias: BLACKWOOD ASSET INQUIRIES LTD. Kian immediately tapped a command into the tablet resting on the sofa cushion. His dark eyes flicked over the registry database before freezing. "I just ran the corporate entity code," Kian murmured, his low voice laced with sudden, dangerous precision. "Blackwood Asset Inquiries isn't a financial holding firm or an offshore shell company, Lydia. It’s a elite, black-budget private investigation and corporate surveillance firm operating out of Mayfair, London."

"You smell like his dominant territory mark, Xender. He touched you." "He pulled me out of a burning transport when Tristan's enforcers threw silver-fire at us!" I slam my fist onto the slate, shattering the glass corner. "That makes us even! Nothing more! Look at the code!" Briar sighs, pulling a small silver magnifying lens from his pocket to examine the data stream. "The attacker used a ghost relay bounced through the Blackmoor Pack House. But the execution... it's sloppy in the secondary layer. They lack your speed, Xender. They used an automated brute-force algorithm to mimic your rhythm."

The kind of tension born from months of relentless training. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, big man. Yeah, your muscles show you’re a fighter, but your demeanor doesn’t.” I stare at him, trying to understand where he’s coming from. “Get the hell out!” he roars to the prisoners expecting a second drama. The prisoners scatter, leaving just the two of us… and a few of his men. “I said leave!” he barks again, and the remaining ones disappear from the bathroom. “This prison is home to murderers, rapists, and violent offenders of every kind. Blackridge is a fire meant to purge them of their iniquities… or burn them in it.”

It then next displayed when I bought my house and lived alone ever since. "It's not fair!" I whispered, tears squeezing out of my eyes. "It's the world, Becca. Black might be your brightest colour. Bullying might shield you from hurt, turns out hurt is your only lover." She whispered, too, nowhere to be seen. My mind flashed, invisible lights in the room flickering, dimming, the walls closing. What was happening? "Are you sure?" I heard her ask. "Sure of what? What's happening?" "Isn't there anyone who can turn your tables. Didn't you meet a certain him that made you feel different, alive? Loved?"