Blackthorn Manor Novels & Stories

It just wasn't the whole truth. She nodded, apparently satisfied, and returned to reviewing our presentation. I looked out the tinted car window. The closer we got, the harder my heart pounded. Seven years. I'd spent seven years convincing myself I was over Ethan Blackwood. Now, in less than ten minutes, I'd know whether that was true. The sleek glass tower came into view. Blackwood Enterprises. It looked exactly as I remembered. Elegant. Powerful. Untouchable. Just like the man who owned it.

At the end of the driveway stood Blackwood Manor–a massive, three-story stone mansion with tall gothic windows, steep slate roofs, and dark iron balconies. The entire house was completely dark, silent, and abandoned. Julian pulled the station wagon to a stop right behind the black sedan near the grand stone front steps. The six brothers and Evelyn stepped out into the freezing rain, their coats soaking instantly in the downpour. Evelyn led the way up the slick stone steps, inserting the long silver key into the heavy front door lock. CLACK. The heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing a pitch-black grand entrance hall smelling of damp stone, old velvet, and bitter chemicals.

I hated that Andrew noticed. "Four minutes and thirty-eight seconds." "Shut up." Daniel opened his door. We stepped out. --- 317 Blackthorn Road did not look sinister. That was disappointing. Some part of me expected iron gates. Gargoyles. Maybe lightning. Instead it looked like an old estate. Stone house. Three stories. Dark windows. Overgrown hedges. A long circular driveway partially covered in fallen leaves. No neighboring houses visible. Lucian stood near the entrance. His gun was still in his hand.

Her words settled deep into my chest, turning the fear into something cold and sharp as iron. While she stepped out to prepare my bath, I pulled my phone from under a stack of towels. My fingers moved fast: Gathering starts at 7 PM. Blackthorn Manor, off Route 9 near the old quarry. Gate 4. Be there by 9 PM. I hit send to Chloe, watched the delivery confirmation flicker, and deleted the thread completely before shoving the phone into my clutch. --- Downstairs, the foyer was loud with the sound of heavy boots and cases slamming against wood.

“You’re nervous, and it's getting to me. He snatched my hands and placed them on his chest. His heart was beating like a drum, the same way mine was beating. Then he repeated the same action with me. I gave a nervous laugh. “It's nothing, I'm just nervous, it's been a while since I stepped out,” I said, trying to cover up. I moved close to the window and began to look around. It was a huge private estate with a sign that read “Blackwood Manor”, Westchester County. It was a lone mansion situated in the hills and surrounded by an array of forest stretching forever.

Diamond was still too restless for proper sleep anyway, her awareness extending beyond our room to explore the house we'd reclaimed. As my mates arranged themselves around me, Kane sitting vigilant at the foot of the bed, the others forming a protective barrier of warmth, I let my consciousness drift with Diamond's exploration. Through her senses, I could feel the currents of magic that ran through the house, ancient protections laid by generations of Blackthornes.

"I'm not telling you a bloody thing, Blackstone. You're wasting your time." He's right. I do not have time for this. The operation at Romanov's mansion goes down in a few hours. The urge to yank at my hair is overwhelming. Where the fuck is my Blue eyes? I feel a maddening rage coming on and shut my eyes briefly. Back to your cages, demons. "Alright then. I'll leave my men to it. But be warned, they won't go easy on you. They might end up cutting off your dick and slimy balls, then stuff them into your mouth when your screams become too loud. I'm sure you would like that."

Elowen’s POV Later that night the Blackthorn mansion, usually alive with the subtle movements and hushed conversations of its inhabitants, had finally settled into a profound silence. The crackling fire in the grand hearth downstairs had long since died down to embers, leaving only the soft, ethereal amber glow of moonlight pouring through the wide, arched windows of the long hallways, painting the polished marble floor in pale, silvered stripes. I hadn’t been able to find sleep, the turbulent echoes of the day’s confrontations still swirling restlessly within me.

But my attention wasn’t on any of that but in the centre of the room. The same man I saw previously in the Nexus Corporation stood in the ruins, draped in a black hoodie that swallowed him in shadow. He exuded an aura of death and something sinister, something I couldn’t decipher. And in his hand, held aloft like a grotesque trophy, was Minister Blackthorn’s still-beating heart. Natalie’s sharp gasp echoed beside me, mirroring my own disbelief as my breath caught in my throat. My eyes danced around the event that unfolded before. Darting from the gaping wound in Blackthorn’s chest to the eerie figure’s clenched fist, dripping with blood, then to Daemon, crumpled on the floor like a broken do