Davos Blackwood Novels & Stories

She was always the useful pawn I manipulated from the shadows. And now the whole game was teetering on the edge of collapse. I can’t get caught, especially not now. Dominic Blackwood. The very name made my jaw tighten. The man was dangerous. Ruthless. Respected by the entire valley and its Alphas—not just because of his strength, but because of his damned sense of honor and loyalty. He would come for his mate. He would not stop. I had seen it in his eyes during the last council meeting, when he barely contained his fury.

One truth remained: they had to go to Blackwood. It was not only tradition, but necessity. The Blackwood domain had long been a nexus between wolves and humans, a place where alliances and rivalries intertwined like tangled vines. Most importantly, it was where Damien Dowell reigned—not as an Alpha, but as a billionaire whose influence stretched far beyond wolf packs into the veins of human power.

Blackwood. Finally, the moment arrived. Zeke moved to the center stage. The lights dimmed, focusing a spotlight on him as he tapped the microphone. The room instantly fell silent and everyone’s eyes made their way to where he stood with a small smile on his face, eager to hear his speech. “Good evening, Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your extraordinary generosity tonight, the Blackwood family is forever in your debt.” He began, his voice amplified, filling every corner of the vast room.

His voice made her nipples tighten under her blouse. “Elena,” he snapped suddenly through the intercom. “In here. Now.” She jumped up, smoothing her tight pencil skirt, and walked in. Damon sat behind his massive desk in a perfectly tailored black suit, looking every inch the ruthless billionaire. His eyes flicked over her body like he owned it. Which, after last night, he kind of did. “Yes, Mr. Voss?” she asked, trying to sound professional. Her voice came out breathy. He leaned back, staring. “You’re walking funny today. Sore, are we?”

"Guys, come into the parlor for a second. We need... a family meeting." Damon Blackwood, the former Alpha, stopped in his tracks. He was a mountain of a man, gray at the temples but still possessing the terrifying presence of a wolf who had led for thirty years. He looked at his youngest son, one eyebrow arching. "A meeting? At midnight? Jax, if you crashed the SUV again..."

I strode under it every morning with a cocktail of irritation and reluctant pride churning in my gut. Because that wolf? That snarling, eternal guardian? It was my father. Damian Blackwood. Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. Chancellor of this sprawling bastion of supernatural academia. Legend to the old guard who'd fought beside him in the Blood Wars. Monster to the rogue elements who still whispered of his ruthlessness in shadowed taverns. Savior to the packs, covens, and clans he'd pulled from the brink of extinction two decades ago, rebuilding Raven University from a charred ruin into the unassailable fortress it was today—the premier institution where the elite of our fractured world honed cl

Dominic Blackwood stood in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the entrance. Unlike the disheveled Reynolds family, he looked immaculate in a charcoal suit. His storm-gray eyes swept over the scene, taking in everything with a single glance. “This is a private family matter," Victoria hissed, lowering her hand slowly. "You have no business here." "On the contrary." Blackwood stepped into the room, moving with the confident grace of a predator. "When someone catches a woman who's been pushed through a window, I believe that creates a certain responsibility."

Just as the dagger touched my skin, the chamber doors burst open. Eva Dawnrunner rushed in, her normally composed features tight with alarm. "Alpha Blackwood! Urgent communication from Blackwood territory!" The Silver Creek wolves murmured in disapproval at the interruption of sacred proceedings. "A moment," I said to Alpha Rosewood, setting down the dagger. I strode to the antechamber where Eva waited, her eyes wide with concern. "What is it?" I demanded. "A direct communication request from Dominic Blackwood," she replied, holding out my device. "He says it concerns Aurora."