Faustus Blackwood Novels & Stories

"What is this betrayal, Xavier?" “I guess I’m the lost one.” Everett murmured underneath his breathe. "You killed my parents. And then you made me work for you??" Xavier uttered, flames coming out of his body. Blackwood laughed, "All I did, was clean up an infested dump." He shrugged. "Dump? THOSE WERE PEOPLE!!" Xavier growled. "Oh, my bad. They didn't look like people to me." He laughed out, maniacally. This man, is psychopath.

Serena’s phone lit up first. Then Asher’s. Then the wall-mounted market display behind the dining table flickered with breaking alerts. The same photograph appeared everywhere: a twenty-three-year-old Asher Blackwood standing in the rain outside the family estate, security on either side of him, the word DISOWNED stamped across the scanned document beside his face. THE BLACKWOOD DEVIL IS BACK—AND THIS TIME, HE HAS A WIFE TO HIDE BEHIND.

She was a legend people either feared or pretended not to know. And Blackwood had witches. Hybrid, lunatic, chicken-blooded witches who could sniff secrets out of bones and dreams. “Vivienne Moreau,” he called, voice sharper now, and deliberate. “Open the damn door.” Yep. That was it. Funeral bells. End credits. Roll the fucking montage. I can see my family calling me to join them in hell. “Damn you, Atlas Blackwood,” I muttered under my breath, pacing once, twice, then stopping dead.

And somehow, that was more pathetic than if he had been screaming. Calix let out a quiet chuckle while stepping closer, his boots clicking against the cold floor. "Look at you," he murmured with his voice laced between amusement and disgust. "Adrian Blackwood—the man who had everything. Fame, fortune, power. The man who could make anyone believe anything with just a smile." He scoffed, shaking his head. "And now? You're nothing. Just a husk. A pathetic excuse for a man who used to think he owned the world."

The hallway erupted in laughter. "Oops," a voice drawled mockingly. "Didn’t see you there, omega." I swallowed hard, my hands shaking as I reached for my books. "Pathetic," another voice chimed in. "I swear, the pack gets weaker just having you in it." I didn’t look up. The sheer amount of disgust dripping from the words let me know exactly who it was. Cassius Blackwood. The future Alpha. My worst nightmare. He stood with his usual smirk, arms crossed, exuding the effortless dominance that made everyone else fall in line. His friends—his pack—stood beside him, watching, waiting for the next cruel entertainment.

Council Member Ashlyn cleared her throat. “We are gathered here today to determine if Felicity Anais Blackwood is responsible for the death of Daniel Lucas Astor, the former future Alpha of the Bloodrose Woodland pack.” I felt Xavier tense beside me. She continued, reading from a document. “Alpha Roman claims that Felicity Blackwood took Daniel Astor on a late-night walk to the lake. They were gone for hours and later, Felicity was found covered in blood, holding Daniel’s lifeless body in the bushes. There was no sign of rogue activity, nor any report from the night patrol about an intrusion.”

Even Celeste instinctively turned her head toward the sound. A tall, imposing man emerged slowly from the shadows at the far end of the terrace. His bespoke black tuxedo seemed to merge with the darkness itself, and each of his measured steps carried a quiet, terrifying authority. No one announced him. No one needed to. Lucien Blackwood. The true patriarch and head of the Blackwood empire. He was the man whose single signature could decide the fate of billion-dollar corporations overnight—the one man even Adrian addressed with absolute, trembling respect. The color drained completely from Vanessa's face, leaving her paper-pale.

I stopped in front of the man. He refused to look at me. "Look at me." My voice was calm. He hesitated. Marcus grabbed his hair and forced his head up. Our eyes met. Recognition flashed across his face. Then terror. I knew him. Daniel Brooks. Senior analyst. Finance Division. Five years with Blackwood International. "Do you know how I built Blackwood International?" The employee stayed silent. I took another step closer. "By trusting very few people." A faint smile appeared on the man's bruised face. "Then enjoy that trust while it lasts, Mr Blackwood..." "What is that supposed to mean?" The man laughed weakly.

A slow, dark, and deeply knowing smile tugged at the corner of Damien's mouth. Elias felt the room spin. The shock was a physical blow, a volatile rush of adrenaline that turned his stomach hollow. The stranger in the dark—the ghost he had surrendered his dignity to, the man he had begged to fill him until he saw stars—was the very predator his father had ordered him to ruin. The natural enemy of his dynasty was the person who held the brands currently throbbing on his skin. "Blackwood," Victor Hawthorne hissed, his jaw clenching as he stood up, his presence radiating an immediate, aggressive hostility. "You're entirely out of your jurisdiction. This is a closed signing sequence. Your asset

Lucian and I lived in one of the houses on the south side. Usually, family interactions only happened during dinner at the main house. Never the other way around. No family member ever suddenly entered our house without a clear reason. So, when I stepped down into the living room and saw the figure sitting on the main sofa— I stopped. Mr. Arthur Blackwood. The founder and owner of Blackwood Corporation. The most powerful person in this family. Lucian's grandfather. He sat upright, his wooden cane leaning against the side of the chair. His suit was immaculate as always, his white hair combed back flawlessly.