Romans & histoires Blackwood Vs Bracken

Brooke. “Here,” Alexander sidles next to me on the table I am sitting at, with a book open in front of me. He shows me the book he’d found just now. It’s a book with a dark, leather cover with the title ‘Creatures of the Lunar woods’ on it, “I read the synopsis, and it’s got a section dedicated to all the packs in the Lunar woods. Granted the book was written decades ago, but most of the packs in the woods are ancient, so almost all of them are still here.”

Only one way to be sure. Warren had found old articles dating back a hundred years or so. There were few that said that you could kill a vampire by driving a stake through their heart. A stake made from the wood of an old, rare tree. He had done some research and came up with three possibilities, a tree called St. Helena Gumwood, and a tree called Dragon Blood Tree, and the last called Agarwood. They had a plan to get pieces of wood from all three trees. Unfortunately, they were all rare trees, so getting pieces from them was going to be difficult. Warren said that he had a way to get them, so he had left to go get what they needed.

(Kael's POV) The Blackwood Forest breathes with a pulse older than Crescent Bay's steel and glass. Its gnarled trees claw at the moonlight, casting long shadows across the forest floor. I'm lost, trapped in this cursed canine shell, my senses sharpened beyond reason, my whole body aching with every step. The scent of damp earth and pine floods my nose, laced with the musk of my pack. They are all restless tonight. I can feel it in the way their howls rise sharp and mournful. A chorus of both frustration and fear.

MALAKI The canopy of Blackwood Terrace knit together like a funeral shroud, choking out the starlight until the forest floor was nothing but a sea of ink. My assistant’s coordinates had been precise. As I crouched upon a gnarled oak limb, the bark felt rough and unforgiving beneath my palms, yet the wood didn't so much as groan under my weight. I watched the shadows, thinking of Roland back at the manor. I wondered what honeyed deception she’d whispered into his ear to slip away perhaps a lie about a restless mind needing a midnight stroll, or the fabricated plight of a distant, ailing friend.

"Three other packs supply us through existing trade agreements and Blackwood's real value is in our timber. The forest you see around us extends for miles, and the wood here is some of the finest in the North." I absorbed this information slowly. "I'd like to visit Blackwood Pack someday," I said. "Meet your people, see how they live." Liam said nothing, but I felt him stiffen slightly behind me. "Would that be possible?" I pressed. "Or is it too dangerous with the curse?" "We'll see." Which was clearly his way of saying no without actually saying it. We rode in silence for a while longer. I was just beginning to feel truly comfortable in the saddle when Liam suddenly tensed behind me.

Bro, the way he had said that without hesitation. Adrian and I looked up at the roof and found it completely dry. “Aurora,” Damien called and I looked at him. “We’d see another day.” And then he was gone. “Is there something going on between you and Mr. Blackwood?” Adrian asked and my head snapped towards him. The whiplash was enough to make my neck hurt. “Why-why would you say that? Of course, there is nothing.” I forced out, trying to control my fast-paced heart.

Close enough that the hellebore on the north wall leaned toward him as he passed. He stopped. Not turning. Just stopped. His back to me. His hand on the doorframe. “Linden.” “Yes.” “The flowers lean toward me when I walk by.” “I know.” “Do they do that for everyone?” “No,” I said. “Just you.” He left. The door closed. The greenhouse settled back into its impossible bloom, jasmine and hellebore and flowers I hadn’t planted breathing in the dark. I sat on the floor with dirt on my knees and my heart in my throat and knew with absolute certainty that the most dangerous thing happening in Brackenmoor was not the poison.

Two reasons to be brave. The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal. I inhaled shakily. Then I walked toward the gate. Behind me, somewhere across the city, Ethan Blackwood was still searching. Still calling. Still trying to understand why the woman he loved had vanished overnight. But he was already too late. As I stepped onto the plane, I made myself one final promise. Ethan Blackwood would never find me. And he would never know about the twins. Not until fate decided otherwise.

The ancient Blackwood Hall stood deep in the old-growth forest, a massive stone structure carved into the cliffs overlooking the Sound. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows over the gathered Alphas. The air was thick with power — dominant scents clashing like thunder, the metallic tang of barely-contained violence heavy on every breath.

It was a fortress that did not care for beauty,it cared only for survival anchoring itself to the earth like an unyielding root. Anna walked beside Liam through the outer courtyard. The air here was thin, biting and thick with a suffocating cocktail of scents: pine needle freeze, winter frost, the sharp tang of hot forge oil and the raw, unyielding dominance of the Blackwood Legion. Dozens of massive warriors, true northern giants compared to the sleeker, more agile wolves of the south, stopped their drills to stare at them. Heavy iron broadswords paused mid-swing, sparring matches ground to a sudden tense halt.