Lord Blackwood Actor Novels & Stories

The space feels alive—exposed stone walls etched with faint storm runes that glow softly when the wind picks up outside, mismatched couches dragged into a loose circle, a low table scattered with half-empty mugs of tea, spell textbooks, and a deck of tarot cards someone left mid-reading. A record player in the corner spins something low and moody—old blues filtered through a modern vinyl crackle. Thorne Alexander Blackwood lounges on the arm of one couch, long legs stretched out, black leather jacket slung over the back. His dark hair falls into storm-gray eyes that still carry the faint red rim of vampire lineage, even in daylight. He’s sipping black coffee—straight, no sugar—watching the r

He wheezed while itching to release himself from the silver and suck someone's blood to quench his thirst. Lyceon hummed, stepping back and nodding silently. Then suddenly He snarled at him and opened his mouth showing his sharp canines. He flashed his finger on his pointed canines and drew blood. “You seem hungry to me, bloodsucker! You want to taste?” The guy’s eyes flashed red as he greedily smelled the blood. Vin’s eyes widened and he got alarmed. He knew it might be a trap of the Dark lord. So he alerted his friend.

"But‍ I’m not the same woman she met five months ago." Lucien‌ let ou‍t a low, d‌ark c⁠huckle. He straightened up, adjust‌ing his cufflinks with an e‌ffortless elegance. "No⁠. You‍’re much more d⁠angerous‍ now. You’re a Blackwood." H‌e checked his watch, a heavy, platinum pie⁠ce that gli‍nted in th‌e light. "The car is waiting," he said, his expression hardening into the 'Dark Lord' mask that terrified the world.‌

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."

I’d seen him earlier talking to ambassadors and wealthy alphas like he collected broken dreams as a hobby. He offered a hand. “Lysander Blackwood.” The name hit me like a warning bell. My brothers had mentioned him once. Powerful pack. Old money. Connections everywhere. Reputation: golden on the surface, rotten underneath. “My brothers didn’t mention you were here,” I said. “They wouldn’t,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “You’re the only Vale I wished to meet tonight.” Yeah. Okay. My skin tried to crawl off my bones. Still, refusing a dance in front of half the werewolf elite would just make headlines worse than Heiress Found Alive. And he knew it. His smile said he’d planned this moment be

“Are way out of your leagues. Don’t even bother if you don’t want your heart shattered.” A ripple of murmurs spread through the group. I frowned slightly. Out of our leagues? Who decided that? A girl raised her hand quickly, barely able to contain her excitement. “Is that Tony Blackwood?” My attention snapped back instantly. Tony. The leader chuckled, nodding. “That’s not usually a question I answer during orientation, but… yes. That’s him.” My eyes shifted back to the field. Tony Blackwood. The name settled heavily in my chest. “Infamous for his black curls and that gaze,” the leader continued, gesturing casually. “And of course— his family practically owns this school.”

His gang watch on awe and gasp when a brooding tall guy shows up from behind. I gasp, astounded when I set my eyes on him. Orion Blackwood. The Top Star of the SGBC. Why is he here? "Y….you!" Orion chuckles at the rouges' expression. They don't expect him to show up even as I didn't too. "Carry that rascal of your hero…." He gestures at Dan who is groaning on the ground. "and get out of here before I give you a reason to leave the town completely."

"The healer said the silver was purged." "The metal is gone. The memory isn't." Luke stood, his massive frame casting a jagged shadow against the stone walls. "I watched Brandon Cole slide that laced disk across the ice. He smiled, Cass. He knew my wolf couldn't heal a heart-shot from silver." "He’s the Captain of the Blackwood Pack now," Cass said. "He took your spot on the ice. He took the glory." "He took everything!" Luke’s voice cracked into a growl. "He didn't just want the trophy. He wanted to see a Navarro crawl. And I did. I crawled off that rink while the stadium cheered for a murderer."

This man wasn’t just making small talk, he was eyeing her like a prize to be won. Before she could respond, Leonard’s voice cut through the air, cold as ice “I think you’ve chosen the wrong person to talk to.” The man turned, unfazed. He smirked, undeterred. “Leonard Blackwood himself? I didn’t know you played the role of a bodyguard now.” Leonard didn’t laugh. Instead, he placed a firm hand on the man’s shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to make him wince. “I don’t play bodyguard, but I do protect what’s mine.”

After a beat, the conversations resume, and the music picks up again in the background. A server appears with champagne. I grab a glass and knock it back in two gulps. My nerves are fine, but my tolerance for small talk is paper-thin. Before we get far, a tall, broad-shouldered man cuts through the crowd like a damn battleship in a sea of wolves. He’s got the same chocolate brown hair as Xander and the same build too. His eyes are dark brown, nothing like Xander’s hazel, but the resemblance is still uncanny. This must be Alpha Lucas Blackwood.