Father Blackwood Novels & Stories

I watched as the metal warped, the vows of eternal love melting into meaningless slag. Ash. The next day, I arrived at the Sterling Covenant office right on time. We had only just opened, but we'd already had inquiries from a few smaller packs. "Morning, Hazel," Lydia greeted me excitedly. "Guess what? We've got a big fish on the line!" "What kind of big fish?" I asked, setting down my briefcase and taking the coffee she offered. "The Blackwood family," Lydia whispered, her eyes wide with something close to reverence. "One of the founding families of New Moon City. Their patriarch, Rhys Blackwood… they call him the Lion of New Moon City. One of the last true Arch-Alphas. A living legend."

“They took my husband from me… and now they’ve taken my son. I haven’t seen Walter or Justine for days. The Blackwoods are monsters — they control everything, even the police! My husband built that empire with his brother, and now they’ve locked him away! They won’t admit they have him, but I know the truth. They want to kill him for standing against their favorite grandson — Bryan Blackwood.” Her voice trembled, thick with emotion. “Bryan Blackwood is a monster — a huge monster! You all can’t imagine the kind of things he’s done… and is still doing.” Her voice cracked. She reached for a tissue, shaking her head dramatically. “They’ve brainwashed my son too. He’s not the same boy anymore. Th

I've seen the conditions for omegas in both packhouses, and I perfectly understand why those who had no family decided to move there. Well, Ryan was a strong wolf, but as a manager, he was a walking disaster. The only reason the Full Moon was kept standing was because of Hank and his grandfather, the previous Beta, who managed to somehow keep control over the territory. "What are your thoughts about Blackwood?" my father asks, and my mother tense. "He is a strong Alpha and..." "And he tainted the wolf's blood by mating with a human and killed your brother because of some bastard his mother gave birth to!" he screams.

“I buried those people years ago.” “No,” Victor corrected. “You buried the evidence not the people.” The wind stirred through the trees lining the mansion driveway. Elara stepped slightly closer to Adrian. “Adrian… what is he talking about?” Adrian didn’t answer immediately. Victor did. “Our father wasn’t just a businessman,” he said smoothly. “The Blackwood empire was built on things much darker than Elara probably knows.” Adrian’s voice snapped like steel. “That’s enough.” Victor’s eyes glinted. “You never told her, did you?”

The aroma made the blood in every vein boil and his soul wept with longing. "Alpha Julian..." The whispers of admiration exploded like ocean waves. From the top of the marble stairs, descended a figure of a man who seemed to have been sculpted by the hand of a war god. Julian Blackwood. At only twenty-three years old, he has become the CEO of The Blackwood Empire as well as a deadly Alpha whose cruelty is unmatched in both the business and supernatural worlds. His face was like a Greek god carved from ice, cold and emotionless, with gray eyes as sharp as the blade of a beheading axe.

With a dark, feral grunt, the massive Alpha violently threw his weight onto the steel bar. SCREECH. The sound of thick iron nails tearing out of cheap wood violently split the air. Jax stepped up right beside him, curling his massive, calloused fingers under the splintering wood where Fennigan had created a gap. With a synchronized, terrifying surge of pure werewolf strength, the two brothers ripped the entire top half of the lid clean off. The rough pine completely shattered, exposing the dark interior of the crate. And there he was. Damon Blackwood. The monster who had built a slaughterhouse under their feet. His skin was pale and waxy in the dim fluorescent light of the loading bay, his b

"He's demanding audience, Alpha. Says he has a proposition that might prevent... unpleasantness." Unpleasantness. Such a delicate word for the kind of territorial war that could paint these mountains red with supernatural blood. I found Blackwood waiting in the courtyard like he owned it, flanked by three wolves who moved with the particular swagger of creatures who'd never learned proper respect for established territory. He looked older than I remembered—gray threading through dark hair, lines around his eyes that spoke of years spent in exile—but his amber gaze held the same calculating intelligence that had made him dangerous three decades ago.