Ominous Black Stake 소설 & 이야기

The vulnerability of the man at Evelyn’s bedside was buried deep, replaced by the Damien Blackstone who built empires and crushed enemies. He didn’t need theatrics. His voice, amplified and echoing through the auditorium and my phone’s speaker, was chillingly calm, devoid of inflection. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Board, valued shareholders. We are gathered today not for routine business, but to address a malignant force that has sought to undermine this company, betray its trust, and destroy the legacy my father built."

“I’d like to announce that our greatest competitor in the business has been arrested.” His hazel eyes shift to mine, “Azure Blackwood is being charged with thirteen counts of murder after a failed mission overseas revealed that his product was misrepresented and unsafe for military use.”

But I guess that was what this was. A black wedding. And then I saw him. The man of the fucking hour. Sitting on a high seat, a throne carved from blackened bone and obsidian. I’d heard that it was the remains of his enemies that built that throne, but I’d expect nothing less from Rhett Blackwood. His heavy arms rested on the lion-wolf hybrids sculpted into the stone armrests and his crown, a surprisingly simple black iron circlet, rested atop his raven locks.

"Do you really think throwing some money at me makes us even, wipes out what you owe me?" Genevieve sneered, pulling a miniature camera from her bag and roughly shoving it into my arms. "Listen, I want you to do something. Go take some photos of Adam Blackwood." I was stunned. "What?" "Don't insult my intelligence." Genevieve lowered her voice, her tone full of vicious calculation. "The outside world has never seen any frontal photos of Blackwood. Everyone says he's a monster disfigured by that fire, or a cripple with serious physical defects. I want you to photograph his ugly face, or his disabled body parts."

"What the hell is this place? It looks like a cemetery for billionaires." Samuel gripped the door handle of the black SUV as it rolled through the iron gates of the Stain Estate. Stone gargoyles perched on the high walls, their sightless eyes tracking the car's movement. Elite warriors in tactical gear stood every ten yards, their scents—heavy with woodsmoke and ozone—cutting through the cabin air. "Sam, look! Big doggies!" Liam pressed his face against the window, his breath fogging the glass. He pointed at a pair of massive grey wolves stalking the perimeter of the lawn.

"Now, I need you to do exactly what you’ve been doing. I need you to be the most annoying, chaotic, and 'Saint-like' version of yourself. And I need that bottle of carbonated beet juice." The gates of the Black Ridge groaned open. Kaine of the South, a massive wolf with a hide the color of rusted iron and eyes full of cruel arrogance, stepped into the courtyard. Behind him, his Vanguards prowled, their lips curled back to reveal yellowed fangs.

I was pinned by sheer force of will. Rhys did not even spare me a glance; I was beneath his notice. He addressed Gideon, his conviction absolute and his voice hard as tempered steel. "She is fully recovered, and she has proven she cannot be trusted in the living quarters. I will not have her polluting the Pack House any longer. She is a grave security risk, and she will be placed in the Black Pit until the tribunal. Before that, she needs to wear silver restraints at all times." The Black Pit. The name alone carried the terror of total, sensory deprivation. It was a cylindrical hole, twenty feet deep, lined with rough, unworked stone, reserved only for the most destructive rogues or captured

the leader of their council said. There was so much hatred in the way he spoke to me, and I wondered what he was talking about. "What did you find out?" I asked him. " You possessed a dark lunar magic and this has brought about some kind of darkness to our pack, we do not accept that kind of magic here and anyone who brings such to us will be punished" he said. It sounded like some lame joke, I am never with such kind of magic, what has this got to do with me?