Nightshade Novel Novels & Stories

The more I read, the more I felt a deep connection to the Nightshades, even though I had spent my entire life believing I was a Blackthorn. I sat down at a nearby table, my mind racing. Malachai had called me a Nightshade. He had hinted that I didn’t know the full truth about myself. And now, holding this book in my hands, I wondered if he was right. Was there something about my past that had been hidden from me? Could I really be connected to the Nightshade legacy in ways I didn’t understand yet?

One down, three more to go. Next, I picked up the first vial. It was a dark, almost black liquid with a bitter almond smell. There were around four poisons with the same property: Belladonna, foxglove, corpselily, and Nightshade. All of them were pure poisons, and I found myself a bit turned around. Which one could it be? All the possibilities were poison, but one had to have advantages. Then it clicked. Nightshade was deadly, but in the right conditions with the correct amount, it could be medicinal. Nightshade causes victims to convulse to the point of shock and eventual death. But it was administered to people with paralysis from snake venom to jolt their bodies out of paralysis. It had t

Sleep took me first before I could interpret his words, pulling me under into dreams of silver wolves and blood moons and a fate that I didn't know. But what is Nightshade?

Lila’s POV I stumbled out of the cab and the cold air hit my face hard enough to make the world tilt. My phone kept buzzing in my bag but I ignored it and leaned against a brick wall to catch my breath. Snow fell soft and quiet around me and the streetlights blurred into halos. I knew what waited if I looked online. My name was everywhere. My face next to Zane’s with headlines screaming mistress and homewrecker and gold-digger. Tomorrow would be hell but tonight I just needed to forget.

The Moon Goddess won't be seen as favoring her, rather as cursing the pack which has accepted her as their new bride and Luna. By the time the sun sets, the Nightshade pack will throw that vicious woman out for poisoning their bloodline, and she'll be back on the streets like a rogue, exactly where a homeless orphan like her belongs. I’m not just a well-wisher for Maximus and his family; I’m a savior. And saviors don't mind getting their hands a little dirty. AUTHOR'S POV The Nightshade mansion is humming with a frantic, rhythmic energy that vibrates through the stone floors. Steam billows from the massive industrial kitchens, carrying the heavy, intoxicating scent of slow-roasted mountain g

The remnants of someone’s bedroom that was long forgotten about crashed around us. We screamed in terror. I was beginning to fear the house was going to fall down on us. We continued to hear the sound of slamming and fighting happening through the house. I was clawing at everything to try and find an escape. Out of nowhere, a book dropped in my lap. It was old. It looked like it used to be cream colored with purple lace. This matches Gabrielle’s style. I saw a key lock. Suddenly, a key dropped from the binding of the book. It was a diary of some kind. I think Gabrielle’s spirit or someone wants me to have this. I shoved it into my bag and peaked out the door. I could tell it was still not s

Dante lurked at the door, way too intimidating for anyone considering a walk past. Mostly, it was all gowns and fancy perfumes and that kind of useless nonsense, until I dug under her old velvet robe and, jackpot a little glass vial, with weird streaks inside that made my skin crawl. I held it up. My hands were shaking, but I tried to hide it. “Found it.” Dante leaned in, sniffed. His face went stony. “Nightshade.” Damn. Nothing casual about nightshade, stomach cramps, weakness, slow death… and all on purpose?

Amara woke before dawn, the mansion wrapped in stillness. For a moment, she forgot where she was - the plush bedding, the faint scent of lavender rising from expensive linens. Then memory rushed back: Vanessa’s cutting words, the glimmer in Damian’s eyes, the weight of a job that felt more like walking a tightrope blindfolded. She dragged herself out of bed, dressed, and slipped downstairs. The kitchen gleamed, more steel than warmth, but a plate of fresh pastries had been set out, untouched. She reached for one, only for a voice to slice through the silence.

Andrew suddenly sat up and gasped for air as if a massive weight had pressed down on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He hurried downstairs and ran out of the villa. Being surrounded by everything that reminded him of me was like pouring salt into his wounds. He could hardly bear the pain. Andrew sat at the door, his gaze vacant, as if his soul had been lost. … Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, I was enjoying the rare beauty of the ice plains. I looked up at the mountain peak in the distance, where golden sunlight pierced through thick clouds, casting a soft glow on the snow-covered summit.

|| Lilac’s POV || The evening air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming night jasmine as we stepped out of the restaurant. The soft hum of the city buzzed around us, but my mind was far from the present. My thoughts were tangled in the web of the Nightshades, their name echoing in my head like a haunting melody. The girl at the counter had said it so casually, as if it were nothing, but her words had struck a chord deep within me. “Your table will always be taken care of by the Nightshades.” Why? Why would anyone like them pay for us?