Oblivion Blackwood Novels & Stories

The aroma made the blood in every vein boil and his soul wept with longing. "Alpha Julian..." The whispers of admiration exploded like ocean waves. From the top of the marble stairs, descended a figure of a man who seemed to have been sculpted by the hand of a war god. Julian Blackwood. At only twenty-three years old, he has become the CEO of The Blackwood Empire as well as a deadly Alpha whose cruelty is unmatched in both the business and supernatural worlds. His face was like a Greek god carved from ice, cold and emotionless, with gray eyes as sharp as the blade of a beheading axe.

Music that pulsed through the walls like a heartbeat. People dressed like they owned the world. And maybe they did. They were having fun, if not too much fun. “Welcome,” Avery said beside me, “to the real Blackthorn.” I barely heard her. I was too busy taking everything in. The luxury. The danger. The way everyone moved like they belonged here. Like this was their world. And I... I wasn’t supposed to be part of it. And yet… I was. We moved deeper into the crowd.

It was about a father’s delusion, a predator’s regret, and the blood that was about to be spilled on a mountain he couldn't even see. ​Arthur Blackwood sat in the dark, a king of nothing, waiting for the first report from the Jackals. He was a man ready to die to "save" the daughter he had already destroyed.

Olivia stepped further inside, breathing in the familiar scent of old books and polished wood. She moved along the rows of shelves, her fingers lightly trailing over the spines of various volumes until she found what she was looking for—a large, worn book bound in leather, its cover bearing the emblem of the Blackwood family. The title read, The Lineage of the Blackwood Alphas. With a deep breath, she carefully pulled the book from the shelf and carried it to a nearby table. Settling into a chair, she opened it gently, the pages brittle with age.

An unreadable, calm smirk split his features as he stared up at my mother, his voice carrying a strange, dark undertone that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. "After all," Adrian said, his eyes boring into Evelyn with a terrifying intensity that made her face turn entirely pale. "Old man Blackwood’s memory belongs to a lot of people in this city. Some of us have been waiting a very long time to finally address the hidden indiscretions of this family bloodline." A sudden, sharp gasp ripped through the front rows.

he asked, his tone not disrespectful, but guarded. I met his gaze steadily. “Laws that concern taxation. Laws that redefine responsibility within the clan.” A ripple of tension coursed through the noblemen, and several exchanged glances. I didn’t give them time to get ahead of the narrative. I raised my hand, and the courtyard fell silent again. “For many years,” I said, “Blackwood has operated on a structure that exempted our people from tributes. That was noble. And wise. Our people were rebuilding. Recovering. The scars of the Great War, of clan conflicts and past betrayals… they needed time to heal.”

She looked around and saw no one. Instead she came face to face to the street view. She held onto the bannister and lazily leaned on them as she gazed at the dark silhouettes in the night. Their apartment building is located in a secluded part of their town and on the far front is the Alterax woods. The trees lined up in front with some infested with fireflies making them look shimmering.

He crossed the room in two strides, his hands cradling my face, thumbs brushing away the tension in my jaw. “We need to disappear for a few hours,” he said softly. “There’s something you need to see.” The Blackwood Ruins By dawn, I stood before the crumbled gates of Blackwood, the abandoned fortress half-swallowed by vines and mist. “This place…” I breathed, shivering despite the cloak. Xavier placed a steadying hand on my lower back. “It was once a home to a warrior clan — fierce, loyal, bound by no court. We’ll make it that again.”

"We can't fight a ghost in the dark. We need to know who is left." She turned the final page of the heavy book, her finger stopping near a small, ink-stained entry at the very bottom margin. "There was a second bloodline," Isolde rasped, her pale eyes rising to meet mine with a look of profound, chilling realization. "Planted thirty years ago, right after the eastern quarry fell." Selene stepped away from the window, walking quickly to the edge of the desk. "Where?" Isolde pointed a trembling finger at the faded ink. "The House of Blackwood," the old woman whispered. "Last known location: the Iron Reach, a border pack currently allied with no one."

Yet, a part of me remained vigilant, aware that our victory was but a temporary reprieve in a long and ongoing war. That night, as I settled into bed, a familiar sensation washed over me. My vision blurred, and I found myself in a dreamscape, one that felt both ancient and powerful. The surroundings shifted, and I stood before an immense, shadowy figure that exuded a malevolent aura. "Emily Blackwood," the figure intoned, its voice echoing in my mind. "You have faced many trials, but your journey is far from over. A greater threat looms on the horizon, one that will test your leadership and the strength of Silverwood Falls."