Cast Of The Blackwell Ghost Novels & Stories

“Convenient. You’re only saying this to protect your chosen mate. Look child, you need to learn to control your emotions.” Cassian’s head snapped toward him, his glare fierce enough to make the man recoil. The room fell silent instantly, cowed by the sheer dominance pouring off him. “Drasa couldn’t have killed Blackwell,” Cassian said, his voice now calm and calculated. “The only way she could’ve done it is by using her powers. And everyone here knows, her magic leaves a trace. Always, like every other kind to exist. And yet…” He said dumping photos of a corpse on the table.

There was fresh blood on the floor, but the animal didn't react. I took a shaky step forward, my heart hammering against my ribs. The wolf didn't turn. I walked closer, standing five feet away and holding my bleeding hand out. Nothing. I walked until I was standing right next to the bars, inches from the cold metal. The wolf threw itself at the cage again, trying to get to Declan. Its claws sparked against the iron. It ignored me completely. I was invisible. "You really are a Ghost," Declan said softly. He walked up beside me. He raised the knife again and sliced his own palm.

A black helicopter lifted into the darkening sky. Inside sat Elena. Adrian. Luca. Dr. Amelia Grant. And a heavily guarded Victor Kane. No one spoke much during the flight. The ocean stretched endlessly below them. After nearly an hour... The pilot's voice came through the headset. "We're approaching Blackwood Island." Everyone looked out the windows. An enormous island emerged from the darkness. Dense forests surrounded towering sea cliffs. At the highest point stood an ancient mansion. The Blackwell Estate. Elegant. Silent.

Just as I felt consciousness slipping away, a deafening scream pierced the night. Then chaos erupted. The weight left me in a rush without thinking. A sickening and yet dangerous sounds echoed, followed by a strangled agony. I gasped for air as I staggered backward, eyes wide open. The rogue who had been on me was now headless. Standing over his lifeless form was a giant black wolf. My breath caught. Damon Blackwell. I recognized him even before he shifted. His presence was overwhelming and alarming, his sheer big size enough to intimidate even the bravest warriors in the world. His fur was so dark as midnight, and his golden eyes blazed like molten hot fire as they fixed on me deliberately.

"Wait. I need to know. Why did, uhm, whatever, carelessly pick me?" "Go back." The woman wasn't paying her any attention. She kept on plucking cowries and attaching them to her head. "What is he? Oh, don't answer that one. He's a ghost. I know that. Why is he in that state? No, no, why can I see him? Why can l feel his touch, ghosts can't do that, can they? What does he need me for?" The old woman stopped her scaly hands from further movements and stared directly at Geneva through her foggy eyes that obviously saw clearly.

Then Jenny screamed too. Taking a glance at the cave, it was of no surprise as Malison had just felt a similar sensation. Swiftly, he tried to prevent them both from being run over, and walking to where the scream was coming from. The air became so thick as Malison saw a shadow coming towards his direction. The shadow looked at him in fury and turned around, but at the same time, his eyes almost turned pale as the same shadow appeared from the side. A warrior who looked at the other side was holding a sword in his hand. The smell of sulfur was hitting his nostrils. His familiar vampire slowly stood up in defense, holding his hat in his hands, with eyes wide open. The man wore a black vest a

"What is it about Ronan Blackwell that made you lose your mind? If you had even a shred of common sense, you’d see he isn't a savior; he’s a shark. And he just took a five-million-credit bite out of us." Bianca flinched, the bite mark on her neck—jagged and unhealed—standing out like a brand of shame. She had done everything to force this hand, believing that once she was marked, the Blackwells would have no choice but to take her in. "Dad, you don't understand," she whispered, her voice cracking. "My soul is tied to him. I can't breathe without knowing he's mine." Cedric stepped into her space, his shadow looming over her. "Tell me exactly what transpired in that Blackwell safehouse before

“What do you mean?” “Well, it started a month before your wedding. Maidens claimed to see and hear things and, after a few days, they either go mad, missing or dead,” Selene explained. Her eyes were sad. “After a while, it stopped until a week ago, when the elders announced three prospective brides that had been selected for his Majesty. The highborn daughter of the Blackwell family was one of the prospective brides. But the selection was canceled after Lady Blackwell was found on the brink of ending her life.” Selene hesitated. “She also claimed to see and hear... things.” “What?” Lillia’s eyes went wide.

His gaze swept the room, then locked on the other two who emerged from the darkness. Timmy and Aaron. Both armed. They wore only sweatpants, barefoot, and yet they looked far too dangerous to be just boys waking up in the middle of the night. Timmy had a furrowed brow, messy hair, and the pistol steady in his grip. Aaron, beside him, had an alert glint in his eyes, as if adrenaline had burned away any trace of sleep. And then, at the top of the stairs, Ghost appeared. Unlike the others, he wore a black shirt that seemed tailored to hug every one of his muscles. He held his gun with the same ease as holding a glass of water. His eyes were hard, metallic, scanning every detail of the scene.

“We find him first.” Jason let out a scoff, dragging a hand down his face. “Sweetheart, that’s easier said than done. Blackwell isn’t some thug hiding in the shadows. He’s a ghost.” “But ghosts still leave footprints,” Dante murmured. His voice was quiet, measured. “There’s always something.” A heavy pause. Then Alexander sat back, nodding slightly. “He’s right.” Charlotte frowned. “But how do we track someone who doesn’t want to be found?”