Blackwood Churches Novels & Stories

"I brought gifts, Dexter. Several crates of the finest silver weapons from the Blackwood forges are in the courtyard." "I know that's not why you're here," Dexter cut him off. "You wouldn't travel two days just to deliver scrap metal. Talk." Silas exhaled, his playful smirk fading into a grim shadow. He leaned back and stared at the high ceiling. "Blackwood is under attack by vampires, Dexter. Not just some feral rogues—organized troops from the Eastern Wing Clan. They burned our granaries and slaughtered two border villages in a single night." Dexter went rigid. Vampires rarely dared an open assault on a pack as strong as Blackwood unless they had massive numbers or an ambitious new leader.

Annoying. The image of her brushing over the canvas crossed through my mind again. I could feel the adrenaline pumping from my veins to my loins, no matter how hard I tried to shake it I couldn’t deny…..I was deeply attracted to Aurora. I threw the dirt on the ground and headed on home. The Blackwood mansion was uphill, few minutes away from Midnight Bay. It was an old home built by my ancestors, the first settlers of the land until they were chased away by hunters. The Blackwood mansion was magnificent in all its glory. It’s grandness spread across the rolling hills, a white two storey building with a roof that reached towards the moon. It was old, old but radiated nothing but the wealth of

Damon slowed the suburban as they passed through the main gates of the settlement, the tires crunching softly on the gravel. From the backseat, Elder Thorpe and Elder Horne looked out the windows, their expressions unreadable, but their eyes taking in everything. The Blackwood territory was thriving. It wasn't just a pack; it was a community in full bloom.

The city was still dark when Damian left Blackwood Tower. The conversation with the firefighter had ended nearly an hour earlier, but the words still echoed in his mind with unsettling clarity. Edward Blackwood. His grandfather. The founder of the Blackwood empire. A man who had built hospitals, research foundations, and entire industries in the name of medical advancement. A man Damian had once admired. And now possibly the man responsible for the chain of events that had nearly killed Evelyn. Damian drove through the quiet streets with the phone resting on the passenger seat beside him. The photograph the witness had sent remained open on the screen.

It looked… peaceful. A place I had never been allowed to have. It felt like a home. Yes, A home! Where two people madly in love will love to stay together forever with their kids. A place that I never dreamed of. The Blackwood Mansion was known to be the second biggest mansion in Ireland- where lots of maids were. It was hard to listen to the sound of birds, it was never peaceful. While my Dad lived here in peace. My jaw clenched as I tightened my coat, rain sliding down my face in icy streaks.

Brambles had spread everywhere, festooned over the yawning archways, branches reaching out inquisitively as if trying to push in through the thick walls. The house was woeful and an eyesore, being consumed from within as well as without, but still, it bore the remote marks of grand antiquity in its giant frame and foundations, deep inside its moldering bones somewhere. It was an echo from another time, and for that reason alone the township of Blackwater Valley would never bulldoze it down. It waited for the Reverend, the Orchestrator—deserted and mute and harboring its secrets there, leering out at him with a kind of primitive, terrible purpose.

With a small, nearly empty coin purse clutched in her hand, Winter pulled her thin cloak tighter around her shoulders and stepped out into the strengthening daylight. The village of Blackwood was nestled in a valley, a collection of sturdy, timber and stone buildings huddled together against the encroaching wilderness. The air smelled of woodsmoke, damp earth, and roasting meat from the hunter’s hall. On a normal day, the sounds were almost cheerful, the ring of the blacksmith’s hammer, the chatter of villagers, the laughter of children. But as Winter walked down the main path, a bubble of silence seemed to form around her. The chatter died.

I always thought that he was crazy as they said he would be but I must admit that he is far better. I held Mia's hands moving closer to her as curiously began to eat at me. What do you know about him ? The Blackwood family are quite popular in this city , they own the biggest enterprise and one thing they are quite popular for is their wealth, his from old money ,can’t you see the yacht he owns. But apart from that we all know that Christian has his own wealth and somehow has become the richest amongst his siblings. He has siblings?I asked, unable to believe my ears and Mia nodded and continued.

"Two million dollars." The number felt surreal. Impossible. Like something from a dream that would evaporate in daylight. She pulled out her laptop and did what she should have done in Rick's office...researched the Blackwood brothers. The results were... extensive. Damian, Damon, and Silas Blackwood. Triplets, though not identical. Ages listed as twenty-nine, which meant they were six years older than her. They controlled the Northern Territory—a massive expanse of land that included three major cities and countless smaller towns. Their pack was one of the largest and most powerful in North America.

It was big. Not in the way the Whitmore Estate was big, which was the kind of big that felt like old money and good taste and rooms that had been lived in for generations. This was something else. Blackwood mansion was the kind of house that felt like it had been built to make a statement and had been making it ever since. Stone exterior, wide steps leading up to the front entrance, windows that were tall enough to look like they belonged in a church. It sat on the property like it had always been there and always intended to stay. I had grown up in a house that made visitors go quiet.