Grey Deer Black Clover Novels & Stories

“I know someone. A contact from my time in the Southern packs. She’s a rogue healer. If anyone knows how to cure BlackRiver poisons, it’s her.” My breath catches. “What’s her name?” Before he can answer, a sudden rustle erupts from the trees to our left. We froze. The sound of snapping twigs and low voices penetrated the quiet forest. “Five of them, I can smell them.” We ducked behind a massive tree trunk, hearts racing. “They’re from BlackRiver,” he murmurs. I held my breath, feeling scared. “I smell a female wolf. She's close.” one of the wolves said.

A little girl stood beneath a tree. She looked exactly like Elara. Clover rushed toward her. “My baby!” She reached for the child. But the girl smiled. Her eyes turned completely black. “You shouldn’t have come here.” Clover froze. The child transformed. It wasn’t Elara. It was the Void. Kael pulled Clover backward. “Don’t touch it!” The creature smiled. “Too late.” Black chains erupted from the ground. They wrapped around Clover’s legs. Kael slashed at them. They reformed immediately.

A lady walked up, “He’s talking about another piece to those bracelets. Once they are in place, she will get sick and the only way to cure her is to take her to the Spell Blades.” “What!” Garrett cried. “Call Ralynn demand her to fix this.” “Druid magic won’t cure it. You should have been watching her closely, Garrett.” She growled. “Who the hell are you,” Jade growled. “Forgive me Princess I am Chloe.” “Well, Chloe I think there is a way to take these things off. I don’t want to get sick and I'd be damned if you took me to the Spell Blades.” Jade growled. “Calm down love,” Garrett said.

From the thick underbrush where we hid, I spotted two sentinels standing motionless at the cave entrance. Their faces were completely covered by bone-masked hoods, their forms draped in ragged black robes. It was impossible to tell if they were male or female, if they were even werewolves at all. They didn’t move, not once. Not even when the air shifted with death. When night fell, Xareth moved like a whisper. He stepped forward, his black cloak merging with the darkness. His bow emerged in one fluid motion. He pulled two arrows, and fired in perfect unison.

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."

‘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.

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.