Marvel Comics Blackheart Novels & Stories

Reminding me of what I did 14 years ago “Sure… but why can’t you let him meet her sister first?” “Here we go again.” He leans his head to me, hold my chin with his cold right hand and say “We do not question the command; we just do it.” With this distance, I could clearly see his deep green eyes with dark brown lining, it sparkles when he speaks even if he is angry he looks so good. His muscular chest fit his breast plate very well, on his back is a huge two-edged sword that he uses to redeem lives. He is riding on a dark shinny horse he named as Hugo.

But they hit hard. He turned his face slightly, drawing in a slow breath, trying to ease the tightness building in his throat. If only he had known. He met her a month ago—at the bar where she worked. Quiet. Reserved. Always polite. They had exchanged small conversations here and there. She mentioned studying medicine… wanting to become a doctor, just like her parents wished. And somehow, without fully thinking it through, he had given her his black card. She had refused. Of course she had. But he left it anyway—on the counter, forcing the choice into her hands.

"That’s not your daughter. That’s the Alpha’s shadow. It’s a scout." The silver girl didn't look at Logan. She looked at me. She reached out a hand, her fingers turning into long, sharp needles of gold. "Give me the Black Heart, Mother. The Great Alpha needs his memory back." The Black Heart. I reached into my pocket. The drive was vibrating so hard it was burning my leg. I pulled it out, the dark light inside it pulsing like a dying star. "I’m not giving you anything!" I yelled. I didn't run away. I ran at her. I didn't have a gun or an axe, but I had the blue energy in my blood. I punched the silver girl right in the chest, my fist glowing with sapphire light.

Night fell over Blackwater like a sentence of isolation, and inside the workshop garage, the silence was broken only by the sound of metal cooling. Dante Blackwood sat on a workbench, his hands stained with grease and dried blood, staring into the gloom. The golden glow in his irises, which once signaled dominance, now looked like the reflection of a fire he couldn’t extinguish. In the center of his chest, the Alpha’s heart beat with a force that suffocated him; it wasn’t the adrenaline of the hunt, but the excruciating weight of a soul wounded by guilt.

The woman nodded, took two steps forward, and said, “This is a space inside the Dragon Heart, and you can only get here with the jade gold phoenix. Phil, I’ve been waiting for you. I know you have many questions for me, but time is running out. This image can only last for a while, so don't ask anything and just listen to me.” The woman continued, “The Black Dragon Heart is the devil stone that your father brought back from the other shore. The energy it contains exceeds the civilization standard of this world. Your father brought a total of three Dragon Hearts back then, two White Dragon Hearts and one Black Dragon Heart, which is the one you’re seeing now. Your father's white Dragon Heart

The edges crumbled under my fingers, and I unfolded it carefully, afraid it would turn to dust. The handwriting was Marcus's—sharp, precise, each letter pressed deep into the page, as if he had known the paper would be his only legacy. I read it aloud, my voice echoing in the silent chamber. "I, Marcus Blackwood, Alpha of the Blackwood pack, confess to the following crimes: I made a bargain with the Lycan king. I gave him the bloodline of Kaelen in exchange for power over the shadow. I bound the shadow to the hybrid child, Ravenna, knowing she would one day wake it and become its vessel. I built the prison beneath the mountain to hold the king's enemies and feed them to the darkness. I kille

The crisp scent of damp earth and pine needles filled his senses, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm in his mind. Liam Black — Alpha of the Black Panther Pack — moved with predatory grace, his golden eyes sharp as a blade in the dim twilight. His sleek black coat, faintly visible through the open flaps of his cloak, shone faintly under the dying red light of the setting sun. His muscles coiled and uncoiled with each step as his internal battle raged on. Every instinct told him to turn around. To go back. To keep his distance from her. Elizabeth.

The locker room was empty now and I threw my bag across the room angrily then went straight to the showers and stripped out of my practice clothes before stepping under the cold water. After a few minutes I stepped out and faced the mirror. My gaze dropped to my chest. The tattoo stared back at me. A wolf paw over my heart and letters beneath it. N.B. Noah Blackthorn. I had gotten it a few years after he died. A way to carry him with me. Now it felt like something else entirely. A mark. A brand. Proof of exactly what I was. The monster who destroyed Aria’s life. ** please follow me on i,n,s,t,a,,g,r,a,m: authormiragreen

He tried to suppress the uneasiness and gestured for her to continue. “If, I am saying if, Kieth is the blessed black wolf, and if he is in the hands of Scarlett Witch, she wouldn’t kill him or eat his heart, if that is what she intends, anytime soon. She would only take an action on a moonless night.” Emma shot another arrow of words, hitting Steven. But fortunately, it wasn’t a poisoned arrow this time, but a rare calming one. Navigating his path from the ifs, Steven found the main point. The Moonless Night.