Blackwood 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.

Streetlights cast golden pools of light along the way. At the end of the drive, massive iron gates stood open. Beyond them, Blackwood Manor rose like something from a dream. Or a nightmare. The main house was enormous. Three stories of classic architecture, all stone and tall windows. Wings extended from either side, creating a U-shape around a circular driveway with a fountain at its center. Lights blazed from dozens of windows, making the entire structure glow against the darkening sky. “This is…” I couldn’t find words. “Home,” Seraphina said simply. “For over two hundred years, this has been the seat of Nightfall Pack leadership.”

I looked down the hallway and through the other side, and there was actually no one in sight. My heart hammered as I approached the large double office doors with D. BLACKWOOD engraved on the metal plate. I forced my trembling hand to knock. No answer. Great. I knocked again. Still nothing. Screw it. I pushed the door open— —and froze in place. Damian Blackwood sat behind his massive black desk. Sharp suit. Cuffed sleeves. Jaw tight enough to crack a diamond. He didn’t look up at me. Not even a glance. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by his deep voice.

The flame caught the edge of the paper instantly. The white sheet curled inward, blackening and flaking away as the orange fire consumed those four terrifying words. 'You. Can't. Hide. Forever.' I watched the paper burn until the flames brushed against my fingers, causing me to drop the last glowing piece into the metal bottom. A cloud of bitter gray smoke rose into the air, smelling of burnt wood and ink. I ran to the sink, turned the cold water on full blast, and washed the black ash down the drain, scrubbing my hands with harsh soap until my pale skin turned raw and pink.

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.

Zevko added. “Rare oak wood? Are you sure, Zev?” Clara asked, still confused. The others looked at Zevko too. “Yes, I’m sure. Remember, Cla, my family loves the outdoors. We’ve seen lots of different wood, including oak.” “But isn’t oak wood usually a light reddish brown?” Jack asked, interested in Zevko’s answer. “Yes, natural oak is brown, but old oak, or ‘bon oak,’ is dark or almost black.” Jack nodded at Zevko’s explanation.

“So do you guys own a lot of this? How does Blackwood make money outside the pack itself?” “A lot of different ways. We have companies that supply materials throughout the United States and Canada. One of our biggest businesses is commercial lumber.” “Really?” “Yep. Dad still oversees a lot of it, and Draven loves that side of the business.” I shake my head. “That man will put on work boots, grab an axe, and disappear into the woods like he isn't a fucking Alpha.” Nova laughs. “I can actually see that.” “He loves tree selection, processing, lumber production, construction materials, all of it.”

Black titanium moonstone ring gold-veined burns white, not blue, heart blood mode. Kael Wolfe Blackwood holds elevator door open for me. Tom Ford black suit torn, black shirt open, silver chain bloody, wolf tattoo on his collarbone running fast, gold eyes pure, not amber, staring at elevator going up empty. Burning hot hand on my bleeding shoulder. Cedar and rain scent sharp with Council fear. "My father built Blackwood Tower on Council stone," Kael says again, voice low. "Fifty-eighth floor is Council stone, not conference room. Conference table is lid. I did flash marriage Chapter Two on Council stone. Luna Trial Chapter Five

The highway leading out of the metropolitan district toward the Northern Pass turned from smooth, wet asphalt to cracked, gravelly pavement surrounded by overgrown pine forests. Here, beyond the reach of municipal power grids and bright corporate neon, the air smelled of damp pine needles, wild earth, and old magic. Inside the matte-black Blackwood sedan, the low hum of the tactical comms unit hummed against the quiet purr of the reinforced engine.

"Woah there, tiger. Slow down. I haven't even gotten your name. I mean, sure, we have some classes together and I always see you around, but that doesn't mean that I know it." I shook my head. Brayden Nicholas. How did I not know that he had forest green eyes? Oh, right. Because I didn't bother noticing other guys when I was with Ashton. "Chloe Benson." "Benson? Oh, you're the one rumoured to be Caleb's brother. Or, proclaimed to be, at least." I did a small smirk. Rumoured? Proclaimed? I'm not that pathetic. "Yeah. If you don't mind, I'm- we are late to homeroom."