Darker Than Black November 11 Novels & Stories

Then black. Nothing.

CHAPTER 45 POV: Mia November arrived quietly. The specific grey of it, not the dramatic cold of deep winter but the particular muted quality of a month that hadn’t decided yet. Mornings that required a coat. Evenings that went dark too early and stayed that way. She’d settled into the rhythm of it.

The streetlamps in the parking lot fizzle and go black. Total, absolute darkness swallows the pier. "What the—" Nikos screams. "Now!" Drakon’s voice roars from the darkness behind me. I drop to the ground. It’s part of the plan. Drop and roll. Gunfire erupts. It’s blinding in the pitch black. Muzzle flashes strobe like lightning, illuminating snapshots of chaos. I see Drakon charging. I see Reapers spinning in circles, firing blindly. I see Nikos scrambling backward, tripping over his own feet.

It had been years of being the strong and young budding alpha female, and in one night, it seemed all of that had been taken away. The wolves of the Craw pack were black and strong, their eyes a variety of colors that changed based on their mood. The wolves of other packs had similar characteristics and sometimes you could only tell the difference based on scent and markings. “Other packs” however, did not include the Decent pack, the pack of the white wolves. They were the outcasts and had gone into hiding for many years now because as Isha had always been told, they were a mistake to the werewolf lineage.

I typed a quick 'Okay' and hit send, my thumb shaking slightly. The next few days were a blur of classes, fake smiles for Nova, and dread building up inside me. When Friday night came, I changed into my Eve outfit – the black wig, the heels, the dress that shimmered with every movement. My disguise. It used to feel like an escape. Now, it felt like a uniform for a different kind of prison.

Ina had been born. The club lived. A universe of light and darkness, where sin ran rampant, and secrets were exchanged under bass beats. Music thudded off walls like a pulse, neon illuminating a dangerous sheen on bodies in motion to the rhythm of the night. Ina came, the heel of her shoe clicking against marble, and eyes following involuntarily without so much as a thought. Power. Freedom. Danger. She breathed it all. Tonight, she was not Lily. Tonight, she was better. She was unbeatable.

Her hair falls in waves down to her waist, fading from auburn to nearly pale blue at the ends. I reluctantly walked out into the hallway. My dragon was flooding my mind with images of her and I felt my eyes changing colors. Stop it! I growl and he cackles in triumph. “You are going to have to tell her at some point,” he reminds me. I sigh in defeat. I know. I wait downstairs along with six guards and Mykael, each of them carrying a backpack and dressed in full gear. November joins us about five minutes later and I shamelessly look over at her. She has black combat boots on and she is wearing a pair of fitting black pants along with a tank top.

We were losing ground rapidly. Feeling the urgency of the situation, I focused on summoning the Dark, as Rukky had taught me. The ongoing battle roared around us; wolves clashed, teeth gnashed, and destruction unfolded in every direction. The night sky, typically serene, now loomed in an inky blackness, a manifestation of the darkness that engulfed it. It wasn't a mere absence of light; it was a tangible entity, weaving through the air and shrouding the moon from our view. In the midst of the turmoil, I persisted in my efforts to summon the Dark while remaining conscious. The air crackled with the intensity of the ongoing struggle, and the outcome hung in the balance as the forces of light a

The oak tree stands in the center of the garden with its leaves turned brown and gold and copper, rattling in the wind like a warning. Winter is coming. Not metaphorically. Literally. The cold is coming. The dark is coming. The days are getting shorter and the nights are getting longer and the world is getting ready to sleep. I am not ready to sleep. I am not ready for the dark. But the dark is coming anyway. That is the thing about November. It does not ask for permission. --- Damon notices. He notices everything now. Not in the way he used to. Not in the way that meant he was looking for threats. In the way that means he is paying attention. In the way that means he sees me.

End of Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen: February Light February was not November. Daniel had understood this distinction intellectually for years — the two grey months, the two honest-light months, the two months that stripped away the seasonal ornament and showed what remained. He had understood them as similar in register. He was understanding them now as entirely themselves, distinct in the way that people who shared a quality were distinct — related, not interchangeable. November was the stripped-down, bare branch structure, the trees in their architectural honesty, the month that said: here is what remained when the decorative receded. November asked you