Kane Blackwood Novels & Stories

They were slaughtered by what I now know were vampires. Alcide and I instantly bonded over the hatred of our math teacher Mrs. Ecker who had a sick pleasure of making everyone miserable. Alcide’s parents were happy to take in an orphaned witch and even helped me learn to control my powers. They attempted to get me into some of the surrounding covens but I was always rejected as soon as they heard my last name, Blackwood. So I’ve been a rogue witch ever since. Which is fine by me because now my powers are free to be all mine and not bound by the elders.

With a smile, Stella answered, "Mrs. Leonard, he is my husband." Beatrix was very surprised. "He's handsome but looks fiercer than the one who came with you last time. How's his temper?" Keegan heard what Beatrix said from miles away. Before Stella could say anything, he came over with a smile, extended his hand, and said warmly, "Hello, my name is Keegan Kane."

"Did we?" Her smile faltered before she turned to Sylvan, holding out a crystal decanter. "Alpha Thorne, would you care for some of our specially aged wolfsbane wine?" She leaned forward to pour, deliberately displaying her ceremonial collar that marked her high rank. "I'm Keira Blackwood. My father is Head Beta of the Eastern Ridge Pack." Sylvan regarded her coldly. "Is that so?" "I've heard so much about your Blood Moon operations. So impressive for a second son."

And then he came. A figure emerged from the smoke like a creature out of one of those old nightmare stories whispered by kitchen fires, only that this one was real. The closer he stepped, the more my chest locked. The flames behind him made him look almost inhuman, his silhouette outlined in fire and shadow, framed by warriors moving in practiced formation. Kane Blackwood. Of course, I didn’t know his name yet, but I knew his power. You didn’t need a title to recognize a storm.

Ex-forces, just as Silas suspected. A hand grazed Aiden’s lower back too deliberate to be accidental. He turned. One of Kane’s thugs: tall, shaved head, neck tattoos crawling up his throat. “Mr. Blackwood,” the man said, voice low over the music. “Mr. Kane would like a word.” Aiden’s pulse kicked. “I’m here with someone.” The thug’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “He knows. Come quietly. Or we drag you.”

Mr Blackwood grunted. "I know. The girl has been very much guided by your son-" Mr Blackwood cut him off. "He's not my son. You took my money. That girl could have gotten me a lot of money when she was little." "I know. She'll get you more now." He chuckled. "Are you guys talking about Willow? Could you get Wayne too? He'll do pretty well in the market," Nathan smirked. "Kane......we need to get these people," Mr Blackwood said. Kane nodded his head. An idea came to his head and it's not a good one.

I brought him a glass from the kitchen and listened only halfway as he talked about washed-out roads, bad weather in the mountain pass, and a battle in the north that had delayed freight for weeks. Then he said, almost casually, “The Northlands lost their Alpha in it.” Something in my hand loosened. “Kane Blackwood?” I asked before I could stop myself. The merchant nodded. “Stayed behind so his soldiers could retreat. Took more arrows than anyone thought a wolf could survive.” The glass slipped from my fingers and shattered against the stone. He apologized at once and bent as if to help, but I shook my head. He took the hint quickly enough and moved on, leavin

Like a version of me that belonged in a completely different world. I jerked back slightly, my heart racing, as if I’d been stung by the picture. Julian watched me closely, his eyes following every expression that crossed my face. “What is this?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Who is she?” “That,” Julian said calmly, folding his arms casually over his chest, “is Kimberly Hayes. She’s my cousin’s fiancée. Nathan Blackwood—CEO of Blackwood Industries.” He reached over, swiping his finger across the screen until another picture appeared. “That’s him.”

Inviting me in only to make me wait? I checked my watch three times, my foot tapping against the marble floor. Just as I was considering leaving, I heard movement upstairs. Finally. Kane appeared in his wheelchair, looking tired like he'd just woken from a nap. His hair was disheveled, but there was still something dangerous in his eyes. I immediately plastered on a smile. "Mr. Blackwood, it's been a while. I hope I'm not disturbing you?" He gave me a disinterested glance and signaled to his assistant, who promptly brought out a bottle of wine with two glasses. The liquid glowed amber in the afternoon light.

Properly look. My hands start shaking. Then I find the photographs. Me outside Hawthorne. Me walking across the courtyard. Me leaving photography. One from my first week at Blackthorne. I turn it over. A date. And beneath it, written in black ink: No known knowledge. Photography could become a concern. Keep her away from west access. I’ll handle her. — R.B. Everything inside me stops. R.B. Roman Blackwood. I read it again. I’ll handle her.