Blackwood Book Novels & Stories

An older woman sat on her porch shelling peas into a bowl, calling out something to a man crossing the yard with an armful of firewood. Families. Not soldiers or warriors,not mysteries wrapped in silver marks and ancient prophecies. Just people living their lives, entirely unaware that somewhere back at the manor, an archive had opened a hidden passage and a witch had gone pale enough to frighten an Alpha. "It's a lot," I said quietly, mostly to myself. Elias glanced over. "What is?" "All of it." I gestured vaguely at the square behind us, the schoolhouse, the training fields, the little houses with their smoke and their laundry lines. "Back home, Blackwood was just a name. A scary story peo

"You were never a pawn, Serena. Not to me." Across the city, inside the expansive, darkened study of the primary Blackwood estate, Evelyn Blackwood sat at a massive mahogany desk. The only light in the room came from a single green banker's lamp, casting long, dramatic shadows across the dark wood paneling and gilded picture frames. On the desk before her lay three thick, leather-bound archival folders—the private financial ledgers of Blackwood Capital from 2014. Evelyn’s manicured fingers, tipped with deep burgundy polish, flipped slowly through the aged paper. She stopped at an internal audit reconciliation sheet dated November 14, 2014—the day Arthur had formally signed the documents cast

ACE By nine in the morning, we were already in Blackwood’s main hall—a place that only ever got used for events like this. The kind where silence is heavy, and everything smells like old money and regret. The sky outside was overcast, shadows of gray-blue light creeping through the tall windows and soaking the room in a cold hue. The Blackwood family portraits lined the walls like judges. Reggie’s was one of the biggest—arms crossed, chest puffed, staring straight at the spot where we were now all seated. It felt like he was still watching. Even from the grave.

We will find his weakness. Damian reached for another folder, thicker than the first, and slid it across the desk. The folder was heavy, the paper inside crisp and unyielding. “This is the Blackwood-Kerr acquisition. The owners are… sentimental. They believe their heir can protect them from reality.” His mouth curved—not into a smile, but into something sharper, something far more sinister. “Your job is to prove them wrong.”

she gestured to the symbols carved into the palms and chest "—were inflicted ante-mortem." "He was alive when they carved into him," Rick translated grimly. "Yes. And given the lack of defensive wounds, I'd say he was restrained or drugged." Dr. Patel leaned closer to examine the neck. "The precision here is... unusual and a lot more confident than the other three. As for the name, the Blackwood family is old money. If one of their heirs is returning, someone might have been looking for them for a long time. Well known for their antique and large art collections worldwide.”

she hesitated, “stories of conquest.” Blackwood gave a small nod. “Conquest, sacrifice, glory.” His tone was filled with pride as he spoke. “Every frame here tells of my journey, of what I’ve taken, what I’ve built. Each sacrifice carved me into who I am, you understand that?” Eliana only nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. Blackwood turned slightly, his hand brushing the edge of a table where an artifact sat, a blade. It had symbols she couldn’t decipher, carved on it.

He drawled, his eyes on me. “Interesting.” I tried not to look up at his sweat covered shirt that clung to his body. He has a six pack, maybe even an eight pack, not that I was counting. “Sure seems that way.” His face remained impassive. I could hear mocking in his tone. He walked down the hallway with the towel hung on his shoulder. “By the way Red, the book is upside down.” I slammed the book shut, my face was filled with embarrassment. Other men wouldn’t point this out but he would. Josiah Blackwood is the bane of my existence. I growled tossing the book aside. He is so insufferable but apparently I was the only person who thought so.

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.

Vivienne had been awake most of the night. "Here's what I have," she said, turning her laptop toward the group. "Blackwood's renamed location matches an abandoned forestry station about four hours north. Satellite imagery shows no recorded activity in decades." She paused. "But thermal scans from the last two weeks show heat signatures. Recent ones." "Edmund," Gabriel said immediately. "Maybe," Vivienne allowed. "Or whoever he answers to." Alexander was already on his feet. "Then we go now." "We go prepared," Isaac corrected, quiet but firm. "Blackwood survived thirty years by being forgotten. I'd rather not assume it's stayed empty just because the maps say so."

Retribution was coming. The full extraction wrapped in under ten minutes of pure, controlled chaos. Non-lethal force had minimized unnecessary deaths, but several Blackwood guards lay tranqed or critically wounded on the floors above. The financial war continued raging outside the gates Blackwood stocks still in freefall, the media frenzy exploding as first reports of an “armed incident at the Blackwood estate” hit every wire service in the country.