Christopher Lightwood Novels & Stories

★★★ BLUE MOON PACK ★★★ Damon’s mother, Light, was basking in the peaceful moment as she watched over the pup. He was a sweet little boy, no more than three years old, his tiny body curled up in sleep, his breathing soft and rhythmic. Light’s once troubled eyes, now calmer and filled with a nurturing warmth, softened as she brushed a strand of hair from the pup’s forehead. This child, whom Damon had taken under his wing, had become a light in their lives—a reminder of innocence amidst the darkness they often faced.

she asks softly. I exhale a quiet laugh. “Always.” Before she can respond, the office doors open. And there he is. Chris Telenov Washington. I stand immediately, my eyes locking onto him, and yeah… Clover wasn’t exaggerating. The resemblance hits you right in the face. Same bone structure. Same eyes. Same… presence. He steps forward, extending his hand. “Lucas Blackwood,” he says smoothly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” I take his hand, firm grip meeting firm grip.

“And I’m supposed to just take it as it is?” “I told you….my word is my bond and I never go back on it” I stayed silent and he rolled his eyes. “You didn’t have to blurt out what you did for me to know the truth. I’ve known the truth….even before it happened” his voice dropped to a low whisper, the sound so eerie that it sent a shiver across my skin. “I am Christopher the unblinded” he spoke his name, loud with pride and I swear I saw a fucking glow in his eyes.

he whispered Damian looked down, a lone rider came out of the fog on a black horse It was Christopher, he wore black armor, mud on his cloak. His face was pale from pain he held his sword out. "The idiot came alone," Logan muttered. "He’s riding into a death trap." Damian’s jaw tightened, he didn’t like Christopher, his pride caused all this mess But if Christopher died, Vance would take Blackwood with the Council’s help. Then Silas would put cannons by the river and trap Sarah’s safehouse to keep Sarah safe, the border had to stay balanced

“Do you get to visit?” “No. They haven’t allowed anyone near him, it’s been twenty years, I don’t even know if he is alive anymore sadly.” He said looking at him. “My hatred for the Council goes beyond anything, that is why I chose darkness. I was supposed to be good, Nick wanted me to be good. But since I have hated for the Council, I turned my back on them, I let the darkness consume my soul, I devoured any good I had left and let the darkness eat me alive.” “I don’t think you’ve let all your light go to the darkness.”

Pain exploded through me, and I curled up instinctively. They dragged me back to the warehouse. The man spat on the ground in disgust before storming out, leaving me alone with my fading consciousness. After what felt like an eternity, the heavy iron door creaked open, and Elliott Reynolds stepped in, silhouetted against the light. His familiar, nonchalant drawl broke the silence. "Wow, look at you. A few days out of sight and you turn into a total mess."

asked her again. "You are beautiful and also kind." Skandar praised and that was honest, the famous Skandar Alexander Hemingway who never praised a single woman overtly had just praised a girl directly. The man's hand had already gone up to Charisa, and touched his wife's jaw. Skandar's eyes nailed all his movements. The man's iris was very black, too black and dark. There was a lot of fog in the man's eyes, and Charisa didn't have enough experience to read what the mist meant.

Stuart added. I felt exceedingly grateful to him. "Mr. Holden, for the time being, could you please keep it from Edgar that I'd copied his chat history?" I didn't want Edgar to be prepared. I wanted to catch him off-guard. Stuart nodded in agreement. I'd gotten what I wanted.

Out of nowhere, his hand cracked across my face. "Claire, remember who you're dealing with. I'm the Alpha of this pack! "You're nothing but an Omega. Without me, you're nothing!" I could not help but laugh, staring right back at him. His face was beet red, eyes burning holes into me. "Leaving me is going to hurt your wolf, you know that, right?" His kindness was always just for show. It was a good thing I was ready for that. I pulled away from him, slow but sure, and told him straight.

“But how is it possible? Yer dead.” I give him a shy smile and wave. “Hi…I’m actually…my name is Lana,” I sputter nervously as a blush crawls up my cheeks. He might look like the actor, but his melodic voice is different. Where the actor was British, Rafael has a light, Scottish lilt. It’s not as obvious as Lucifer’s or Michael’s, but it’s there. Lucifer gives me a bemused snicker and whispers, “Stop ogling my little brother, lest I get jealous, luv.”