Sango Gold Dust Black Novels & Stories

She muttered before taking a step even further than before. That was when she saw it…. A guy something like in his early twenties, coughing out blood…. She could see the two black horns that were attached in his head, and his fingers and feet nails were all black. Darla didn't fail to see the colour of his eyes that was Golden, and mixed with silver, making it look unique. "There's our chance, we can't let the Demon Lord escape this time around. He has been superior to us all for almost eternity, it's time to end his reign!".

The special line between Gold Dragon and Black Opium has not been activated for many years, because this is a tunnel to avoid misunderstandings between the two powerful mafia factions, only in emergency cases will this line be activated. Black Opium leader named is Stefano Pratos, but he always moves under the name Stefano Gills. He has never shown up, even Nicholas also does not know his true identity, only knowing that his voice sounds like a middle-aged man. "Hello, Mr. Adams, long time no talk to you," Stefano said in a jovial voice that sounded annoying. "How are you? Has the gunshot wound I gave you when we clashed at the Jade Property healed?" Nicholas was not the type to mince words,

It was clear right from day one that Sierra isn't as welcoming as Angela, which didn't really bother me as I also didn't want to be part of the family; sooner or later I would be leaving. I walked to the watch section, my eyes falling on a particular black sleeve rolex. For some reason, the watch reminded me of Sage. It is a masterpiece that would suit his wrist, and part of me wanted it for him but couldn't afford it. Besides, he has like a dozen or so collections that I'm sure he has never used. "You like it?" Sierra's voice came in, snapping me out of my thoughts. My lips drew back together. I only stared at her briefly before shaking my head, the air suddenly filling up with silence.

“But I hear she is wolfless. How then can your wolf be drawn to hers?” I met his gaze steadily, refusing to waver. “I’m led to believe her situation is temporary,” I replied. “She is a Golden Luna, after all. The lateness of her wolf—it’s merely an eccentricity. One I hope to rectify and utilize for our benefit. As my pack seeks to rise again, I hope we can continue to count Pack Darthrow as our firm allies.”

During one particularly busy period, I was sent to a neighboring territory where our contact was from Karl's pack. I froze when I saw her, taking a moment to compose myself. "Fiona, it's been a while." Fiona stared in surprise before smiling broadly and pulling me to sit beside her. "I never expected to see you here," she said, her voice warm with genuine pleasure. I explained my position with the collective, and after listening, Fiona sighed sadly. "You made the right choice leaving Karl's pack. Things aren't what they were." "After the failed ceremony, Karl disappeared for a month. When he returned, he began crafting ceremonial jewelry named for his 'true mate, Isabelle.' The pack council

he softly hummed while he eyed San trying to get rid of the silver chains desperately. “Easy death ? Hilarious,” I scoffed. “Try me kid,” I challenged him. “Noooooo,” San screamed desperately from behind but I chose to ignore her for the moment. “You are too cocky for a human, mutt,” Zang seethed in anger. “Seems like you called your own painful death, bastard !!!!” Zang roared and made a wide signature circle of the Dark Arts and pressed the centre towards me while trying to quickly complete the spokes.

He said that and sent me a transfer of $1.88 on his phone. The note with the transfer contained two words: "Gold Digger." I had been with him for seven whole years and had not spent a dime of his money. I even gave him gifts on holidays and anniversaries. He took them like he was entitled to them, but he never got me anything in return. He would mockingly ask if I thought it was a man's duty to buy gifts for his girlfriend.

The only thing remaining was a faint, silver mist that smelled of old paper and rain. Dante was beside me in an instant, his hands on my shoulders. "Elara! Are you alright? Your eyes... they were glowing." I looked up at him, my vision slowly returning to normal. "I’m fine. They’re gone. She was just... lonely, Dante. The whole bloodline was just a cycle of grief." I noticed my hands. The skin of my palms was stained with permanent, intricate black markings—faint patterns that looked like lace and daggers. It was the "Master Scribe" mark. I hadn't just survived the trial; I had claimed the full power of my lineage.

“Tell him Caspian Blackwood is here to see him.” The assistant hesitated, then nodded and hurried toward Salvador’s office. Minutes later, the old man emerged, a cigar clenched between his teeth. Caspian knew the type — men who hid dangerous secrets and would kill to protect them. “Caspian Blackwood,” Salvador greeted, laughter rumbling in his chest. “Salvatore La Rosa,” Caspian replied evenly. “Walking into your territory unarmed. You really think you can touch me?” Salvador chuckled. “You’ve always been stubborn. And selfish. But I didn’t expect you to come here uninvited.”

From the center of the mist, a figure stepped forward. She was wearing a gown of grey silk that seemed to be made of falling ash. Her hair was no longer gold; it was a pale, dead silver, and her eyes were empty sockets filled with swirling grey dust. She held the Shadow-Shard of the Mother-Lode, but it was no longer black. It was the color of a cataract.