P 61 Black Widow War Thunder Novels & Stories

The blue moon was less than seventy-two hours away. Many of the allied shifters from Black Diamond agreed to fight with us to not only get our mate back but defeat an enemy that seeks to destroy us all. We were bringing War, to War, and taking our mate back in the process. We could only hope she knew what she was doing. A phone call came through from an old business partner of mine, Roland Black, Alpha of the Black Alder packhouse in South Carolina, to discuss the plan. He, too, had heard of the coming war, and his forces were three times the size of ours, which would be a huge help. His wife, Elena, was a friend to my mother as well. They offered us some of their warriors as they had issues

Hexton slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks and slowly walks over to Whiro; each step announcing his authority as his shiny loafers tap against the tiled floor. “Blackheart was calculating and patient. She let many of you put yourselves in danger and then very brilliantly got herself to safety. You spent fifteen minutes fighting with a door and nearly lost a leg for your efforts. If you were in the crowd, who would you be rooting for? The smart competitor who plays the game well or the clown who stumbles his way to victory on sheer dumb luck?” He asks, staring Whiro down with a hard and callous look in his eyes. I swear Whiro almost gulps.

The shock of my political maneuver vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, lethal instinct of the Warlord. ​"Phalanx one and two, mount up!" Vesh roared, drawing her twin obsidian blades. "Blackwood Vanguard, you ride with us! We strike fast and cut them down before they can set fire to the mill!" ​The courtyard erupted into organized chaos as men scrambled for their horses and weapons. ​Vesh swung seamlessly onto the back of her massive black charger, Onyx. She looked down at me, the bone-white visor an impenetrable wall of secrets.

"We can’t shift! They’re picking us off the second we break cover!" "Then stop running like dogs and start moving like soldiers!" Sebastian’s silhouette appeared through the smoke on the east ridge. He wasn't in wolf form. He held a high-caliber sniper rifle, his shoulder absorbing the brutal recoil as he systematically popped the sensors on the Aegis drones. "Target the optics! They can't hit what they can't see! Move, you bastards!" A Blackwood warrior, blood streaming from a shrapnel wound in his shoulder, spat on the dirt. "The Cole Alpha... he’s actually got balls."

In the photo, Claire smiled serenely, her eyes filled with starlight. Sam took out the ring he always wore. He laid it carefully atop the mound. "I will find you," he whispered. "Dead or alive." … The skies above the war zone were always gray, like a bleak canvas soaked in smoke and ash. Clad in heavy protective gear, face hidden behind a surgical mask and goggles, I knelt in the rubble, gently retrieving body after body. Here, no one had names—only numbers. "CE-17, male, approximately twenty-five. Shrapnel wound. Confirmed deceased."

Now I am looking at the Capo Matteo, the one they call ‘Il Diavolo’ (The Devil), not the fun-loving Matt of 5 seconds ago. “Secondly, you agreed, I didn’t force you, that was our deal, remember? You want out? Tell YOUR family the fucking truth, but punch me again, and I will force you out to use your ‘other’ assets to my advantage, black widow. Don’t forget my generosity and affection have their limits.” He threatens, but I just laugh in his face.

"The price just went up. And if I find out you’re lying about why you want him, I’m going to come back here and show you exactly how 'sirens' sound when they’re screaming." Lity flinched. The reputation of the Blackwell-Nelblack duo was built on a foundation of bodies and successful hunts. They were the apex predators of Saati Town. "Fine," Lity whispered. "Just bring me Timothy Gal." The elevator ride down was silent until the doors hissed shut. "You’re thinking about it," Gideon said, glancing at Kan in the mirrored walls. "Thinking about what?" "Fucking him," Gideon replied simply. "You’ve been staring at that photo like you want to eat him alive."

As the convoy entered West End territory, Andrew casually asked, "How does West End's leader, Madam Vostokoff, compare to Atlas and your organization in terms of power?" Dylan explained, "Madam Vostokoff, also known as the Black Widow, is the most inconspicuous of the Jayrodale's four underground leaders. But don't underestimate her—she's ruthless. Over the years, whether it was Tony before, Atlas, or me, we've all tried to take over West End's territory, but no one has succeeded." "The Black Widow?" Andrew asked, surprised.

Together, they moved silently, shadows among shadows, confronting the intruders with precision and force that left no room for doubt. The skirmish was brief, brutal, but decisive. Lena’s wolf, guided by her own hand, struck fear into the interlopers, while Kade’s presence ensured the Blackwood warriors were a cohesive, unstoppable force. When the night ended, the rivals had fled, their pride shredded, their message clear: Blackwood tolerated no intrusion.