Blackwood Campus Novels & Stories

She stilled mid-page, her eyes locking onto a detail she almost would have skipped if she had been moving any faster. “…hold on,” she said quietly. Both Mark and Damian looked up immediately. “What is it?” Mark asked. Quinn didn’t answer right away, her gaze scanning the line again as if confirming it hadn’t changed. “Blackwood transferred schools when he was sixteen,” she said finally, turning the file slightly toward them. “Small town. Not mentioned anywhere else in his profile.” Damian stepped closer, leaning in to read. “Which town?” Quinn turned the page fully. The moment he saw it, something in his expression shifted, subtle but noticeable.

But the girl’s warning, You are looking where they want you to look, continues to thread itself through my thoughts. If the warning means anything, the oldest records in Blackwood are the place to start. They have been here long before Bernice, before Skylar, before any of the recent noise. If someone has been altering things to mislead me, they would have to work much harder to change what Blackwood has preserved for generations. A shadow curls around the leg of my chair and taps the table as if to remind me I am not alone. I smile despite myself and reach for another scroll. “Three winters following the northern…” I read aloud, the rest lost beneath a dark stain.

The smell changes first. Chalk dust fades. Damp earth fills my lungs instead. The classroom dissolves around me. Trees rise where walls used to stand. Thick trunks. Twisted branches. Shadows stretching long across the ground. This is not random. This is the land behind Blackwood Manor. The stretch that borders The Shadow Woods. The place that always feels a little too quiet at night. Boots press into soil. The ground crunches softly beneath my feet. Leaves break under my weight. Turning around brings no comfort.

My name is written in perfect script: Zara Blackwood. My fingers tremble slightly as I break the seal and unfold the letter. Miss Blackwood, We are pleased to offer you a place at Blackwood Academy, a private boarding school for gifted students. Our campus, deep within the Ember Forest, provides a unique opportunity for young people like yourself to grow, learn, and thrive. Your term begins immediately.

“I don’t think I’ll need much assistance, but I appreciate the offer.” “Of course.” Her expression remained warm. Professional. “Can I help you with anything right now?” “Yes. I need directions to the dining room.” “I’d be happy to take you there. Follow me.” We walked through corridors I’d never seen before. More portraits. More expensive art. Every turn revealed new evidence of the Blackwood family’s wealth and history. “How long have you worked here?” I asked, needing to fill the silence. “Three years, miss. The Blackwoods are good employers. Fair. Respectful.”

Although part of her might have been happy to corner Lucian again, if yesterday's incident really leaked to the public, it would affect the company's stock price. Blackwood Corporation was not just a company, but a business empire that spanned across multiple fields—automotive, technology, finance, and even property. Behind its great name stood four main pillars: Blackwood Motors with its electric cars and self-driving systems, Blackwood Tech, which dominated AI and cyber security, Blackwood Finance in the world of finance, and Blackwood Real Estate, which dominated property.

It would have started a long-term partnership with Blackwood Enterprises, bringing funding, growth, and opportunities most schools could only hope for. And she was going to lose all of it as she deserved. “Mr. Blackwood, we’re already implementing additional security measures. I can assure you—” “I don’t care. If anyone contacts your academy asking whether Ava Blackwood was ever enrolled there, your answer is no. You have never heard her name. Do you understand?” "Damien, stop it! Calm down!" Ivy’s voice cut through my rage. I stopped mid-sentence, the phone still pressed to my ear, and turned.

The atmosphere was heavy, loaded with unspoken tension. “Tell me about the estate,” I said quietly, trying to break the heavy silence. I wanted to know what kind of castle we were walking into. He shifted in his seat, turning his dark gaze back to me. “It’s called Blackwood Hall,” he explained, his voice low. “It was built over a century ago to serve as the neutral meeting ground for the founding families. No weapons are allowed inside, but that doesn’t mean anyone is safe.”

Each of them expected their contributions to buy them influence. "Ladies and gentlemen," I began once everyone was seated, "thank you for coming. I know you're all busy people, so I'll get straight to the point. Blackstone University is facing a crisis." Mrs. Whitmore adjusted her pearls, her sharp eyes focused on me. "You mean the Brooks girl situation."

"But we're going to be there for a whole week maybe! That's lots of time to find him!" "Luna, we're there for Abuela's medical care, not to hunt down your father." "But if we happen to see him—" "The city has eight million people. The chances of randomly running into—" "Blackwood Medical Center," Andre says quietly. "That's where we're taking Rosa. Blackwood Medical Center." My blood runs cold. "What?" "The cardiac unit. Best in the country. Run by the Blackwood Foundation. Damien Blackwood's family legacy project." Of course. Of course it is.