Grey Deer Black Clover Novels & Stories

I opened it casually. Then froze. My blood ran cold. The logo at the top of the page was unmistakable. Blackwood Enterprises. For several seconds, I couldn't breathe. The room seemed to tilt. Seven years. Seven long years. And suddenly, his name was back in my life. Waiting. Watching. Threatening to reopen wounds I'd spent nearly a decade trying to heal. Across the room, Noah looked up from his coloring book. "Mom?" I quickly forced a smile. "I'm okay."

‘She doesn’t know who we are,’ Clover whimpers, pulling at her lavender colored hair, showing more fear than I’ve ever seen in her. “I’m right here Raven, I’m not leaving you,” I whisper, trying to calm her down, wishing I knew how to take her pain. ‘Gideon, like with Gideon… sink your claws into her to drain her she’s full of power and life!’ Clover squeals almost happily, as I look over at her watching her dance around the bodies. “Clover now is not the time!” I growl at her, trying to understand how she could be happy when everything has gone straight to hell so fast.

‘Then why are you looking at their roots and covering them back’ Natasha asked. ‘You know their age through their roots’ nara said ‘snow grass has a life span of 100 years, the snow grass they are taking is about 50-60 years’. ‘Wow I guess it’s true, healers and witches go crazy for herbs’ ivory murmured opening the map she held. Ivory noticed a blue dot at the entry point of chex on the map, straining her eyes she looked at it carefully. ‘This wasn’t there before’ ivory thought.

I notice Clover running closer to the border. The border of where? I can’t tell in the dark. I do know that we shouldn’t be here, however. Sure, Bella can take care of herself and me; she’s a trained warrior. I’m no shrinking violet myself, but that’s not to say Bella and I go looking for trouble. ‘Clover!’ My wolf yells into our mind-link. She stops and turns to my wolf. Clover, a large black and tan wolf, trots over and nudges my snout with her own.

Elena in the center, flanked by honor guards who had to look down to avoid being pierced by their eyes. The assembly hall of the Black Claw pack was reborn as a garden, or maybe a forest, depending on who you asked. The triplets had insisted on wildflowers and brush as decorations, and the effect was less a curated bouquet than a whole swaying ecosystem: chamomile, foxglove, magenta and bluebells climbing the stakes that circled the altar; strands of briar woven in with bright red sumac. Every table was scattered with rosehips, black berries, poppyseed muffins left in piles as if a wolf had found a baker’s cart and torn it open. The scent was sharp and sweet, underlying the musk of assembled

It turns out I inherited my mother's looks. Four years ago, I learned about a herb called Black Mandala from Camila. It's a poisonous plant that can allow the parasitic dark melanin to live on a werewolf's body. Eating Black Mandala would damage the vocal cords of the werewolf, even changing their skin, hair, and pupils' color. I found it intriguing and began searching for this herb.

It is a poison for which there is no cure. “She was in her second night of childbirth,” Magnus continues just as quietly. “The healer here, made her a tea, but put the wrong sap in it.” “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “You never use the white sap in tea or anything to be eaten or drank. The sisters are backwards; the black tree produces white sap while her white sister makes black. Untrained healers will make the mistake not knowing that they produce the opposite.” As we enter the longhouse, he has to duck to enter, Magnus says, “I have been told that the black tree can also be used to camouflage a person’s scent.”

I was far away from everything else now, my heart thumping fast as the thought of seeing Marcy again sent chills down my spine. As I arrived at the mountains now, I spotted the tree – the Black Clove beneath the moonlight, twisted and spun in a mysterious way that earned it its recognition. It was just as I remembered and even thee surrounding environs had not changed one bit. “Here we are…” I couldn’t spot anything or anyone around. It was almost impossible to do so when it was midnight and if anyone hung around the Black Clove, it would be tourists alone. This area was not a residential area.

Sorry for the long author's note haha. Nity out 🍄