Blackwood Treasure Maps 3 Novels & Stories

"I can still help you. I know things. Important things." "Such as?" Lexie hesitated. Then reached into her coat with trembling fingers. "The Dark Hollows treasure map." My blood froze. She pulled out a folded piece of parchment. Ancient and yellowed. Symbols I recognized from my mother's journal marking its surface. "The royal family's hidden treasury." Lexie held out the map like an offering. "Gold. Jewels. Artifacts worth more than you can imagine. Kill Irene, and it's all yours." Marcus studied the map with renewed interest. His boredom evaporating.

Two were missing. The feed cut to black. Ethan slowly took off his headset. He placed it on the table. The plastic cracked under his grip. He turned to Emily. The room was deadly silent. Lord Blackwood was looking at her with open contempt. Seraphina was smiling—a small, satisfied smile. "I..." Emily stammered. "I thought..." "You thought wrong," Lord Blackwood said. "You nearly killed twenty of our best men because you cannot read a map." "It was a mistake!" Emily cried. "The colors... they shifted!"

​She looked at the wall of monitors where the ship's icon was still pulsing. ​"Arthur Blackwood doesn't put all his eggs in one basket. Especially not the gold ones," Chloe continued, her breathing shallow. "The warehouse you tracked in Jersey City? That’s his 'public' storage. It holds the low-grade resources, the stuff he wants the auditors and the Montgomerys to see. It’s a paper trail to show he’s 'solvent.' But the actual wealth—the high-grade semiconductors and the black-market minerals he needs to finalize the tech merger—those don't go to Jersey." ​"Where do they go?" Mario asked, excitement flickering across his face.

Blackwood Territory Lucien read the report a third time. Then a fourth. The words did not change. A mountain that does not exist appeared at dawn. Ryden watched him from across the command table. "Please tell me there's a reasonable explanation." Lucien handed him the report. "If there is, I'd love to hear it." Ryden read it. His expression immediately soured. "Wonderful." He dropped the parchment onto the table. "First ancient kings. Then hidden maps. Now we're apparently growing mountains."

Maybe it's the strange symbols carved into the window frames, or the peculiar arrangement of the furniture that seems to form patterns on the floor. Or maybe it's the large, leather-bound book displayed on a wooden stand in the center of the desk, open to a page filled with handwritten text and diagrams of the night sky. I approach slowly, as if the book might snap shut on my fingers like a trap. The page shows a chart of celestial bodies, with a date circled in red ink: November 15, 2025. Less than a month from now. Next to the date, in my mother's precise handwriting: "Convergence. Blackwood returns. Find the girl."

If ever Silver Crescent were destroyed by the Black Claws and the Shadow Werewolves, all the packs surrounding the Black Forest would be destroyed too. ***** “Are you certain it is here?” I couldn’t tell Dominic and Killian about the map that Purple had found after the kids summoned her in the infirmary. I couldn’t tell them yet about the black thread, as I had no idea who among the Black Claws did it to my wedding dress. “Yes,” I replied as the three of us went into a secret chamber deep within the Wolf Tomb. Dominic looked at me as if he had so many questions to ask, but he decided to focus and lead the way through a much larger chamber where the three of us found the Moonlight Mirror stan

He didn’t say ‘suicidal,’ but the word hung in the air. Finn grunted, leaning over the map. His one good eye scanned the terrain. “Aye. The boy’s not a complete fool. His patrols are regular. But they’re predictable.” He traced a line along the river that marked the western border. “They watch the obvious crossings. But here,” his finger moved to a dense, tangled stretch of forest to the south, “the Blackwood. It’s a mess. Thorns, ravines, old magic. His wolves hate patrolling it. They do it quick and dirty. We could move a small force through there. Unseen.”

Her grandfather, Silas Blackwood, sat in a library that had thousands of old books nearly arranged on shelves and cold ambition. He didn't look like a man proud of his granddaughter; he looked like a king assessing a potential traitor. On the desk between them sat a small, velvet-lined box and inside it was the Blackwood Seal, the physical key to the family’s untraceable offshore holdings and the final word in any Thorne Group takeover.

The second impression is the splitting. A thing the size of a continent broken into three parts. Each part crystallized into a pearl. The pearls hidden — buried, not lost; deliberately placed, not scattered — in three trenches on three continents. The Black Pearl in the Hollow under Alastor. The Silver Pearl in a trench under what would later be the Saragossa Archive. The Red Pearl in a third trench whose location the glyph refuses to give me, even now, even pressed into my skin by force; the glyph closes itself around the location the way a clam closes around a pearl. Some knowledge has been forbidden even to the floor. The third impression is a face.

Summoning every ounce of strength left, I jumped on and tore off toward our hideout. I slammed the door shut behind me and crumpled to the floor, breathless. Blood oozed from my arm, but I had no time for that then. I opened my hand to reveal the prize: a pink diamond, glinting with an otherworldly glow. "It's here. Now talk," I said. Old Fox, ever the cool customer, took the diamond, inspected it briefly in the light, and then pulled out a sealed dossier from his desk. "Everything you need to know about your guy is right here."