Blackheart Novels & Stories

he uttered, pointing at the brown box on the desk "Good night, then" he added before opening the door and walking out, shutting it quietly behind him I moved over to the box and placed my hands on the excessive masking tape that was used to seal it before pulling it all off in one sweep I slowly opened the box and my eyes widened when my nose was hit with a foul smell and when I peered inside the box; my eyes widened even further Right inside the box was a human heart that had turned black from early signs of decaying

Gray walked past Adrian who called to his attention but he immediately brushed them off and walked to Leez. " How I missed you Leez," Mr Gray said as he kissed the back of her hands. Mr Gray was an internationally accredited films director having several production companies. Everything he touched turned into gold. He was also known to be single, having openly acknowledged that the woman he loved had been snatched by another man, but he was still hopeful for the day he'd get her back.

We were also running out of mountain. The black heart learned from failure with obscene speed. It abandoned the broad shape of the office and narrowed the memory to one specific line of force: touch. Fingers at the back of my neck. Breath between us. The tiny pause before everything changed. It stripped away witnesses, walls, and context until only the charged space between two people remained. Then it poisoned that too, trying to make longing itself look like surrender.

"Council kept me here not just punishment. My human heart kept Hollow asleep." Marcus looks at Grace, at me, at Kael. "Jace Cole has Ghost heart and human heart Chapter Fifteen," Marcus says. "Human heart from Grace, Ghost heart from Marcus. Mixed blood sealed origin. Mixed heartbeat can seal Hollow again. But need both hearts beating on empty stone." Kael's burning hot hands turn burning hot again, not human warm, cedar and rain sharp. "Two hearts beating on empty stone," Kael says. Gold eyes on me, on Grace. "Your mother human heart kept Hollow asleep twenty years alone. Now need Ghost heart and human heart together. You and mother."

The loneliness that was pre-existing, that was healed but scarred, that was the substrate of his capacity for witnessing. "My damage," he whispered, the admission that was gift. "The back that requires maintenance. The heart that is medically sound but emotionally—" He paused, the precision that was difficult when self-directed. "The emotionally structural. The need for you. Both. Specifically. The witnessing that is also being witnessed. The maintenance that is also being maintained."

A black jacket was lying across the hills. He appeared to be in his early twenties. His features best described as sharp with his pointed nose, deep black eyes, strong jawline, and thin, attractive lips. His skin was fair and looked radiant, reflecting the meagre amount of light emanating from the shaded lights which hung in the gazebo. His frame conveyed strength. His black hair damp and messy because of the rain and hung down over his eyes. His face was expressionless as he stared off into the dark. His eyes blinked, but it was a slow, emotionless flutter of eyelashes

God help her she was a complete idiot wasn’t she? “Hell Gabby I’m such a douche.” “I know.” “I’m sorry.” What defenses did she think of again? Were they even up in the first place? The dull pounding in her heart had better be the early stages of a heart attack. She moved then. Not to him, but away from the door. Seeing him in the flesh like something molded from her deepest desires and darkest fantasies, wearing a tapered black suit that practically worshipped his tall frame, an unbuttoned shirt that brought awareness to his hard chest and broad shoulders making her wonder how many buttons she had to open to see him in all his glory, she’d seen enough of him to compel her to not think. She w

10:30 𝚙𝚖. *𝙾𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛* As Bridgette sped through the rain-drenched streets, her anger burned hot and fierce. The knowledge of her lover's betrayal of her ultimate rival, Natalie Wayne, fueled her fury, and she gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white.

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.

"Sure." Just yesterday, she had obtained her new identification. She was now Dawn Baxter. Like her name, she would welcome a new day. A month later, Flint and Maple announced that their niece, Dawn Baxter, would take over the company. This news caused another stir within the elite circles. Over in Lake City, Simon, since returning from Naavi, had been in a constant state of melancholy. He spent his days drowning his sorrow in alcohol, clutching Luna's photo, lamenting, "Lulu, my Lulu, you must be lying to me. You didn't die, right? Come back… I was wrong. I won't betray you. I shouldn't have cheated."