Davos Blackwood Novels & Stories

He positioned me in a chair but didn’t step away, his presence strangely reassuring as the adrenaline wore off. “The news is already airing the story,” he said softly, gesturing to the kitchen television. “They are controlling the narrative.” Sure enough, there was David’s face, pristine and composed as always: “—and in breaking news, tycoon of industry David Blackwood has announced his impending mating ceremony to Sophie Collins, calling it a ‘union of two ancient bloodlines.’ The ceremony that’s normally only permitted for true mates in the werewolf community— “

I’d never seen such wealth up close. I was too busy staring when we reached a door at the end of the hall. “The Blackwoods are very particular,” she continued. “Your job is to clean, stay out of sight, and…” She never finished. Because at that moment, the door swung open. And he stepped out. Damian Blackwood. The air in my lungs turned solid.

“Mr. Blackwood, they’re ready for your toast.” Izzy blinked rapidly. Blackwood? Her stomach sank. She’d just called out Alexander Blackwood. CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. Billionaire. Reclusive tech god. One of the wealthiest, most untouchable men in the country. He didn’t look angry. He looked amused. “For the record,” he said, stepping closer, “it’s Alex.” Then he turned and walked away without another word. Izzy just stood there, heart pounding. Well, she thought. If I’m getting blacklisted, at least I looked good doing it.

Dante replied, his voice a low, vibrating growl. ​The doors to the conservatory opened, and Evelyn Blackwood stepped out onto the terrace. She was followed by Silas, who looked far too rested for a man who had been outmaneuvered the night before. Behind them walked a woman Dante recognized as the Chief Governance Officer of the Blackwood Trust—a woman whose sole job was to ensure the family didn't humiliate the brand. ​"Dante, Isabella," Evelyn said, gesturing to the two empty chairs at the head of the table. "I hope you slept well. The reports from the primary wing suggest it was a... busy night."

Dark hair with silver threading the temples, a sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, and steel-gray eyes that pinned me in place. Damien Blackwood. Forty-two. CEO of Blackwood Holdings. Billionaire. Widower. Ruthless in business and, from what I’d heard, even more so with women. He was my father’s former business partner the man who had once helped fund my dad’s company before their ugly fallout. The one man I’d been strictly told to avoid. “I… yes,” I said, my voice coming out softer than I wanted. “The city looks incredible from up here.” Damien moved closer, his cologne wrapping around me sandalwood, citrus, and something darkly masculine. He leaned against the railing, close enough for me to

He moved with effortless confidence, like someone who'd never questioned his right to own everything he surveyed. Maya actually gasped and grabbed my arm. "Holy shit," she breathed. "Is that another Blackwood?" Harrison's posture stiffened slightly. "That would be Mr. Damien Blackwood, the first son of the Blackwood family." he said quietly.

He was staring at the spot where the stranger had stood, his fists clenched. Noah knew. He knew who that man was. He knew what that drive meant. Before I could go after him, another man stepped out from the crowd. He wore an expensive black coat with a silver wolf pin fastened to his lapel. His hair was neatly combed, and his smile was calm. I recognized him the moment Coach Dawson greeted him. It was Commissioner Victor Blackwood, the president of the National Hockey League. He shook my hand and offered his condolences. His words sounded kind. His eyes did not. They lingered on me a second too long before drifting toward the graves. Then he quietly walked away without looking back.

"Gemma, we need to hear from you. George filed us in but you were the one in their custody." "The Obsidian Wolves are a powerful and ancient pack," I began. "They operate from the shadows. They're ruthless and have connections that run deep, even within human governments." I paused, taking a deep breath. "But their real power lies in their leader, Aedin. He's not just an ordinary person; he possesses powers unlike anything I've ever seen before. He has ambitions of dominating not just the werewolf world, but also humanity. He's searching for a way to control the world."

His hands rested on his own knees, palms up, the way you keep your hands when you are showing someone you are unarmed. "Listen to me," he said. "I'm going to tell you my name. My whole name. I'm going to tell you who I am. And I need you to listen, all the way through, before you scream. Can you do that for me?" I could not have screamed if my life had depended on it. I nodded. He took a slow, even breath. "My name," he said, "is Damien Alexander Blackwood. I'm the founder and CEO of Blackwood Technologies. I'm thirty-two years old. I live in Manhattan. And I am, as of approximately seven hours ago, your husband."