Matt Murdock Novels & Stories

But I didn't. Because for the first time since I met Jasper Blackwood, he wasn’t the untouchable mafia boss. He wasn’t the cold, ruthless man everyone feared. He was just… a man. A man drowning in regret, pain, and loneliness. And for some reason, I wanted to be the one to pull him out.

My jaw throbbed from where someone had knocked it out of line earlier. But I didn’t make a sound. Because standing in front of me—dressed in all black, hands in leather gloves, and a gaze as dead as the grave—was him. Benedetto Morreti. The Mafia Boss of The Black Empire. The man who raised me, broke me, and rebuilt me as his weapon. He didn’t speak at first. Just stared. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with precision, his dark eyes scanning me with that same cold detachment he used on corpses and bank ledgers alike. He looked more like a priest than a kingpin. But I knew better.

He paused and glared hard at me, trying to pry open my fingers on his torso. “Stop now, and tell me who he is?” I asked him calmly, suppressing my anger, and took a deep breath in the end. “Lauren’s first trainer, Vincent. Remember that military retire guy? He was the first one who tried to kill Lauren during a practice match.” Caellum yelled aloud. My blood went cold. How could I forget that person? Steve Rogers… A veteran and highly skilled in martial arts. Lauren was only seven at that time. I slowly moved my gaze to the person lying on the floor.

She answers him, still holding my shirt and hiding behind me. “Hold up. Hold the fuck up.” Damian says. Looking very closely at Justin. “That can’t be right. Because if she’s who I think she is, then we are all dead.” “Who do you think she is?” I ask him. “The man who attacked us, killed my mother, and take Adrian.” Nobody answered him. We just exchanged glares. “Ohhh my fucking moon goddess. Are you fucking kidding me?” “You don’t say a curse word and call the Moon goddess in the same sentence,” I warn him.

I had always hated the name of our pack, thinking it was too bland. Atlas Andino emerged from his car, his usual friends in tow. I knew them all by name, noting how their styles of bullying differed. Atlas Andino, with his pale blonde hair and startling grey eyes. Shaina Adam's with her espresso skin and gorgeous sneer. Michelle Cario, with her long legs and thick accent. Duke Kentworth, with his football jersey and messy black hair. Dean Marsh, with his curly chocolate hair and sly smile.

He says with a clenched jaw. Matt nods, his Alpha is right. He has never supported the use of magic, only using it to secure borders and territory and never diving into dangerous spells. He didn’t want to agree to it but somehow, Katya and Theo convinced him, most probably by playing with his feelings for his mate, which was understandable honestly. Matt would have put anyone’s life on line for his mate. He knew it was hypocritical of him to think so while being unwilling to endanger other lives for Charlotte, but he also knew that Charlotte wasn’t just normal.

I announced and Rogue nodded and asked for more details about the job. "Guys name is Justin, he was in the special forces for the military. Anyway he found out that he has an inoperable tumor on his brain and wants to go out fighting so he can get into Valhalla, he's a Norseman," I explained and Rogue grinned slightly and nodded.

Some of them did not even stop at the red light – they pressed the accelerator instead of the brake, as if blessed with immortality. Anubhav turned and caught a glimpse of himself on the mirror above the wash basin. His usually sharp, light blue eyes looked hazy owing to the long and tiring journey. His eyes narrowed and he absently stroked his jet black hair. As always, his hair did not need the services of a comb, it was silky and fell fashionably just by finger combing. Friends at home used to call him Tom Cruise, not without reason. There was a letter on the bed.

I can’t fight well with a broken leg but I use a tree and try to stand when the large grey wolf transforms back into a male. “Don’t try to stand! I need to reset it!” He yelled. This guy is dripping in sex appeal. Tattoos covered his pecs and down his back. His 6 pack abs were leading to the V shape and down to his very large dick swinging between his legs. His sandy brown hair was cut short and he was sweaty. He runs behind some tree and emerges a second later with guy shorts on. If I didn’t have a broken leg, I would have been drooling. “My name is Matt. I am a warrior with Smoky Mountain Pack and I was doing some regular patrols and I hear the growls. I already alerted the Alpha. He will

Torches lined the black stone walls, casting flickering light across the gathered warriors, their armor scarred from countless battles. At the head of the hall, lounging in a carved obsidian throne, sat Valerian—Alpha of the Night Walker Pack. He was a sight to behold. Rugged. Uncompromising. Every inch of him spoke of raw power and the relentless life he had lived. His hair was dark, thick, and untamed, falling just past his shoulders in careless waves. A jagged scar ran from the corner of his left brow down to the edge of his cheekbone, a mark of a battle he had won—and one he wore with pride. His jaw was strong, covered in a rough stubble that did little to hide the sharpness of his featu