Raven Blackwood Novels & Stories

The air hums with the tension before a storm. Silverpine’s border is crawling with wolves, their black-and-grey cloaks marking them as Blackrock—rival pack, all muscle and malice. Among them, strange shadows flicker in the mist. But worst of all, circling above the treeline, is a raven larger than any natural bird. Its eyes glow with unnatural red, and when it lands on the cracked stump where the wards once stood, the grass blackens under its claws. The pack draws back, bristling. The raven cocks its head, surveying the crowd. Its presence feels wrong—hollow and ancient, as if the land itself recoils.

“To end this foolish war. You and I both know this cannot last forever, Elara. Come to me—face me at the Black Hollow. We will settle this once and for all.” A shiver ran down my spine at the name. The Black Hollow was an ancient, cursed land, a place where the veil between realms was thinnest. Raven took a step forward, his expression darkening. “If you refuse, I will keep hunting you. I will destroy everything you have rebuilt. Your mother, your people, your precious Kael... I will burn them all.” A growl rose in my throat. “You’ll regret underestimating me.” He let out a low chuckle. “We’ll see.”

Raven looked at the man before her, wondering if he had lost his mind. “I know what you are thinking, and no, I’m not out of my mind. You are not going anywhere,” Damon told her. Raven wondered why this man wanted her to stay, wasn’t he supposed to be with his wife or something? Just because he had no ring on his finger didn’t mean he was not married.

“They are searching the courtyard. We move along the north wall.” Suddenly, a loud, deep voice echoed down the hall. “Thorne! Stop where you are! You are cornered!” Marcus Blackwood. He was coming down the main staircase, flanked by Zev and three other fully shifted wolves. Rian froze. Blackwood walked toward us, his face a mask of furious power. “You are not dead, mongrel. But you are mine. Release the human and submit!” Rian released a deep, feral sound. The amber fire flared, powerful and uncontrolled. He shifted his stance, moving to put me completely behind him.

They were scared out of their minds. They looked at me like I was a ghost when Mara brought me in. A tall girl with short black hair stepped forward. Her name was Lena. She had a scar across her cheek. “You are new,” she said. Her voice was rough from no talking. “Day one,” I said. Some of them laughed bitterly. Lena looked me up and down. “You will not last.” I met her eyes. “I am Raven Blackthorne. I have four bonds waiting outside that gate. I am not dying in here. And neither are you.”

my father’s voice interrupted my thoughts, "let us welcome the man who will help lead us into this new era. The future Alpha of the United Pack... Adrian Blackwood." The massive oak doors at the end of the hall swung wide with a bang that echoed like a gunshot. Then, he stepped in. Adrian Blackwood walked in like he owned the air in the room. He was young, probably late-twenties, but he carried a darkness that made him look a thousand years old. He was tall, built like a tank but moved with the grace of a jungle cat. He wore a black-on-black suit that probably cost more than a house, but it couldn't hide the raw, lethal power rolling off him in waves. His face was all sharp angles—a jawline

He flexed his cock inside Raven’s overflowing cunt and whispered: “They think they own us. But I’m going to find them… and when I do, I’ll make them watch while I breed you for the rest of your life.” Raven shivered beneath him, equal parts terror and dark, addictive pleasure flooding her system. The blackmail was getting deadlier. And Damien’s breeding obsession was only getting started.

“I own you. Everything about you. Your hands. Your blades. Your nights. Your secrets. You work for me.” Tension coiled in my gut. “What do you want?” “I heard news.” He said, circling me slowly, predatory, never touching but close enough I felt the heat from his body. His breath brushed my neck as he paused behind me. “Unpleasant ones, Raven. You’ve been playing in someone else’s sandbox. Damien Blackwood’s little playground. Letting rich men drool over what belongs to me.”

Properly look. My hands start shaking. Then I find the photographs. Me outside Hawthorne. Me walking across the courtyard. Me leaving photography. One from my first week at Blackthorne. I turn it over. A date. And beneath it, written in black ink: No known knowledge. Photography could become a concern. Keep her away from west access. I’ll handle her. — R.B. Everything inside me stops. R.B. Roman Blackwood. I read it again. I’ll handle her.

Silver Moon Pack. The wind tonight was as usual, and the air was chilly on the high peaks. The moon was pale, and the howls of those damned werewolves echoed throughout the village. Raven, under the pale moonlight, listened to the howls like thousands of needles piercing his ears. It was an insult to him. Raven Blackwood, one of the werewolves of the Silver Moon Pack. However, he had never been considered part of the race, only considered trash because he couldn't display his powers as a werewolf.