Nightshade Novel Novels & Stories

My eyes drift open at the feeling of soft sunlight over my face. I look around the unfamiliar room letting out a deep yawn. Casting my eyes towards the window I see no sunlight but silvery moonlight filling the room instead. That's right I'm in the Shadow Moore where I might never see the sun again.

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE

Utmost lividity was evident in his dark sea-green eyes at the mention of the man's name. Ren Lancaster is now the one who holds Frostville, a kingdom at the south near the werewolves' kingdom. After raising rebellion and killing the king, he proclaimed himself as the new king. At that time, David was there and he protected the princess he was fond of. But with Ren's dark magic, the people in Frostville were no match to him.

he said with a smirk as if he just won. I laughed at his words because he just fell into my trap and admitted what he did. Nightshade was the Gaisreen equivalent to wolfsbane. As such, its use was highly prohibited and punishable by absolute death. That meant that every life would be stripped away before he was killed for his offense. He just admitted to it in the presence of four Gaisreen. “It’s a great thing that you were always an absolute idiot. You just admitted to a crime punishable by absolute death,” I pointed out with a smirk of my own.

She couldn't turn the key, and she couldn't pull her hands out of the resin. Above her head, the massive, hairless white hand that had carried the Nightshade executioner into the dark air shafts was no longer moving away. The blunt, moonstone-tipped fingers were slithering back down through the ceiling joists, their motion slow, blind, and deliberate as they tracked the scent of the toxic purple fluid coating her hair.

“The apothecary has secured the moon salt and ward crystals. We’re ready to leave for the airfield.” “Good,” I glanced toward him. “Make sure the crystals are sealed in iron boxes. I don’t want their magic weakening before we reach—“ I stopped as a strange scent had reached me. It was sweet at first, almost like crushed flowers, but underneath it was something rotten. Nightshade. Black blood magic. My Lycan stirred immediately. A low growl rumbled in my throat, and my navy eyes darkened. “Stay back,” I ordered, my guards immediately went still. I stepped out from beneath the awning and into the rain.

I brought it to my nose. Nightshade. Wolfsbane derivative. And something sweeter (jasmine and heat). A forced-heat inducer mixed with a synthetic Alpha rut trigger. The kind of poison that doesn’t just lower inhibitions; it smashes them to dust and laughs while you beg. Someone had slipped this into my drink, my food, my fucking bloodstream, and aimed me at her like a loaded gun. Relief and rage collided so hard I saw stars. I didn’t force her. Not entirely.

Ready. Lyanna Black. The name I had been carrying for fourteen months, the identity built for exactly this kind of situation, a woman with enough history to be plausible and not enough to be checkable quickly. Hitchhiker. Wrong direction. Heard something in the trees. Ran. The story had no holes because it had been designed to have no holes, and the only way it failed was if I failed to hold it correctly. Still water, I thought. You know this. You've been doing this since before they gave it a name.

I kissed her lips—softly, tenderly. That was the antidote to the deadly nightshade. I was able to get one from the Fernandezes Mansion. Hell… Lord, or else I wouldn’t know what to do. But that shows the love Brinda has for me, she stayed over a year without the antidote to the deadly nightshade. JUST FOR ME! FOR OUR BABIES! FOR OUR FUTURE! We had come through hell. But at last, we had a piece of heaven in our arms.

"The Moon guided me here." She knelt beside Natalie, placing her hand over her fevered skin. Symbols glowed faintly under her palm. "This isn’t normal wolfsbane," she said quietly. "See the black veins? That’s Nightshade Crescenta. It grows only where the moonlight cannot reach." Her eyes met mine. "In the Ashenveil Mountains." I swallowed hard. Ashenveil. Marcus Cromwell’s territory. The Rogue King. Of course. He was behind this.