Blackheart Comics นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"You're not as bad as you make yourself out to be; doing bad things, bad deeds, doesn't mean your attitude is so bad." He leaned on the steering wheel with his arms crossed and kept looking at me. I wanted to touch his bicep and see if it was as hard as it looked, and for some reason, I found myself tracing with my fingers the lines that drew a small statue of liberty. "What are you basing that on?" his bicep tensed when I moved to a tattoo closer to the sleeve of his shirt: a deck of cards "You don't know anything about me."

My heart stopped. Maya’s body was barely hanging on, blood dripping from her wounds, and I felt my stomach churn with fear. But then, everything shifted in a flash, and before my eyes, Steven’s hands were buried in Maya’s chest. He pulled out her still-beating heart, the raw brutality of the act leaving me breathless. A cold, venomous voice echoed in my mind, sharp and foreboding. “Each life he takes draws him closer to his dark end. When The Demon Wolf arrives, Steven Blackwood shall meet his doom.”

Cullen just nodded and then smirked at him, showing his black credit card. “Hey, I want to book Scarlet Heart, where is she?” Cullen asked while feeling so confident. Heart’s boss shook his head. “I am sorry but she won’t be available to be booked here. She won’t be found anywhere as well.” Heart’s boss answered. Cullen’s eyes widened and then glared at him. He hit the table by his palm and Heart’s boss was surprised and slowly looked at Cullen. “Wait, what?!” Cullen gasped and he was so pissed and frustrated.

They were marked absent from my list, and before the ceremony starts, I wanted to know why. We walked toward the gate, which was really high, with electric wiring on the fence to keep pests away. The "pests" were likely normal werewolves. The Blackheart Pack was held in high esteem because their elite were not only billionaires but were not troublemakers. They lived a life of freedom without responsibility, but never once hurt anyone. I brought out my phone, calling one of them. It rang and got switched off; there was no response on the other end. I tried three other numbers, and all of them were the same. Now I was scared that something was not adding up.

:D Thank you for the journey, lovelies! #TheBlackShadowPackSigningOff xoxo, Cassandra M

Cassian bowed his head, forehead nearly touching mine. “Then do it.” Damien roared from the archway. “No!” Too late. My blood sank through Cassian’s shirt. Into silver light. Into the Heart. Into him. The world turned white. For one endless second, I felt everything. Cassian’s chains. His screams under Black Hollow. His sister’s betrayal. Damien’s blade. The Heart forced into his chest. Twenty-one years of darkness. Twenty-one years of not dying. Twenty-one years of waiting without knowing whether anyone would ever come.

She fidgeted in her seat, her eyes darting anxiously to the entrance each time someone walked in, her heart leaping with false hope again and again. Until finally—A man in a tailored business suit entered. “I’m sorry for the delay,” he said, approaching the officers. “The boss is currently in a meeting. I was sent as his representative.” Belle looked up. Her heart sank. It wasn’t him. “This is the CEO’s black card,” the manager explained eagerly, showing it to the man. “We recognize it anywhere. Only a few people in the country own one. Yet today, it was used by… her.” His tone carried thinly veiled disdain.

But as the scent of her hair hit me—something soft, like vanilla and old books—I felt a jolt of something that wasn't in the contract. The "Cold Heart" was starting to thaw, and that was the most dangerous betrayal of all.

Three men stepped out and the moment I saw them… something didn’t feel right. They looked… wrong, not in an obvious way but enough to make my chest tighten. They were dressed in black, their movements sharp and controlled. Their heads were shaved clean, their skin marked with tattoos that crawled up their necks and disappeared under their collars. They didn’t look like businessmen, they looked like trouble. Why was my father associating with these kinds of people? I stayed still, watching them carefully. One of them turned his head slightly, our eyes met and he didn’t look away.

*This fic contains intersexuality, if you don't feel comfortable don't move on.* Deep down, anyone who could see her naked knew that the legend that that woman was a soul collector. Black ink snaked its way down the curves of her torso to her hips, etching her skin in glorious pride over nothing less than the life of those who wished her harm.