Blackwood Manor Novels & Stories

"My driver will take you home. You have one hour to pack your things" Elara said "Wait. What about my job? What about my things?". Julian said "You do not have a job anymore. You have me. Now go". Elara turned to leave.. She stopped. "Where is your house?" she asked. Julian said "It is called Blackwood Manor. It is in the hills". Elara felt scared. Blackwood Manor was a scary house. People did not go there. Julian said "Remember. This is not a romance. This is a business deal. I do not love people. I use them".

They creaked open without a sound. Lena’s breath caught. Beyond them, the Blackwood Estate loomed. Dark stone spires stretching toward the sky. Towering walls draped in creeping ivy. Windows glowing dimly, as if secrets lurked behind every curtain. It wasn’t just a mansion. It was a fortress. The car rolled up the long, winding driveway before stopping in front of the entrance. Adrian put it in park, then turned to her. “Welcome home, Lena.” A chill ran down her spine.

Ama gently pushed open the black double doors that led to the room, her breath catching in her throat at the stunning sight before her. The decor held a captivating dark aura that felt both intimidating and intriguing. As she surveyed the space, her mind turned to the Blackwood family. Grayson Blackwood was the only one who came to mind as the possible creator of such an imposing environment. Realization washed over her; of course, this was his room. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

And returned as a nobody, starting from the scratch. Why there is no hint of his past? Apart of the duration he was with him. Smiling. The realization sat heavily in my chest. Shrugging the deep thoughts of past, I concentrate back at the road. --- By the time the gates of Blackwood Mansion came into view, dusk had settled across the estate. The guards straightened immediately as my car approached. One of them hurried forward to open the gates. "Good evening, sir." I acknowledged him with a brief nod before driving through.

A mad laughter that echoed in every corner. Megha screamed. The upside-down man detached himself from the wall— Dropped to the floor. No sound of breaking bones. He rose slowly. Neck twisted sideways. Fingers long. Unnaturally long. Not human. He moved toward us. We pulled at the door. The lock wasn’t outside. It was inside. Placed by something unseen. Scratches deepened. As if hundreds of hands were clawing the walls. He came closer. Fingers trembling in the air, reaching for our faces—

Make it look like I was the one holding us up. Forty minutes later, the iron gates of the Carmen Blackwood Manor swung open. The estate was breathtaking—twenty acres of ancient forest and perfectly kept grounds surrounding a massive stone manor. Unlike the modern glass tower Sebastian lived in, this place felt like the heart of the pack. It felt like history.

“That’s him.” Nathan Blackwood. I recognized that face instantly. CEO of Blackwood Industries, headquartered in New York. The man was always in the news. His face was plastered all over the business magazines I loved to read. He was tall, like his cousin, Julian—handsome, with the kind of presence that commanded attention, even in a photograph. And his fiancée—Kimberly—she looked exactly like me. I swiped back to her picture with trembling fingers, my stomach twisting in confusion and disbelief.

Independent Southern State. The Blackwood Family Manor. “Mr. Blackwood, I’m Ria Mortensen.” Ria stood straight and formal, eyes filled with respect. Behind her was Deryl, equally composed. They had only been granted entrance into the legendary Blackwood family estate after presenting an ancient amber pendant—personally given to them by Old Master Rosetti. Calling it a manor hardly did it justice. It was practically a castle. Understated, yet exuding a rich history. Luxurious, yet dignified in its silence.

I barely had time to whimper a protest before he gripped my thighs, spreading me wide. Then, with one hard thrust, he buried himself inside me. A strangled cry tore from my throat as he filled me completely, stretching me to the point of delirium. His curse was a ragged growl against my ear. “Fuck—you’re tight.” — Four Weeks Earlier The Blackwood Mansion was a castle—cold, intimidating, and entirely out of my league. I stood at the massive iron gates, my fingers clenched around the strap of my worn-out bag, staring up at the estate that could have belonged to royalty. Towers of black stone stretched into the sky, and the windows reflected nothing but storm clouds.

He adjusted his cufflinks with the same precision he used in everything else, a man who never left anything to chance. “I am not afraid,” I lied, though my pulse betrayed me. His gaze lingered on me in the mirror, steady and unreadable. He stepped closer, his presence filling the room, his hand lifting as though to touch my shoulder. For a second, I thought he would. He didn’t. The absence of contact burned more than the touch itself might have. “Good,” he said softly. “Because fear is exactly what they feed on.” *** The Blackwood estate was unlike anything I had ever seen. Acres of manicured gardens stretched endlessly, marble columns rose like watchful sentinels, and the windows were so ta