Saving The Blackened Male Protagonists Novels & Stories

creating a sanitized path for the Architects' ultimate judge. Silas Blackwood stood his ground, his gold-veined wolf form simmering with a intensity that pushed back the white light. He felt the "Primary Rejection" rising in his chest—the memory of the girl he had once called a "Thistle." He saw the "Ugly Truth" of her current state: she was a "Vessel of Compliance," a version of the mate that had been "Optimized" to remove the "Narrative Friction" of his own love.

His hands and foot were tied to it with tape, and so was his mouth, so that his head bobbed about with tiredness and exhaustion. “By night, we are criminals. We sell guns. We deal drugs to the fiends who want them. We kill. Now, and because you have come of age, you have become a part of that life, Damian Blackwood. Will you be a coward and run away in fear, or will you conquer until you lead the Blackwoods?” “Leading is my birthright. Only cowards turn and run.” I answered.

If they’d shared it calmly, sat down, and taken turns, they would have been satisfied, but no, everyone lunged for a bigger piece, no one looked at the person beside them. Among the fray, only one man moved differently, Zevarion. He tried to break through the noise, his voice rising above the shouts, hands raised in a peaceful gesture. He pleaded with them, begged them to share, but his words were trampled just like the woman at his feet. Zevarion always believed there was something left worth saving in people. Even now, after everything… he still had hope. I didn’t know whether to admire him or pity him. Because as I watched the captives tear into each other like wild dogs, I realized somet

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.

"There's strength in numbers, and these boys are all elites! So stop resisting and get down on your knees, and I might just make it painless!" Frank snorted and growled, "Right back at you!" Even as he finished, he leapt toward the men-in-black in attack. Though they promptly responded, they were simply no match for Frank. Soon, their corpses were strewn everywhere! The middle-aged woman was left dumbfounded. What the hell?! Those boys were fighters and could easily wipe out a small sect! How could that average Joe wipe them out in the blink of an eye?!

Shockingly, her mouth didn't even open this whole time! And yet the light bestowed upon for the first time ever flickered to distinguish. The City was really curse to experience something more bizzare than ever. And everyone seems to know that, much more to the faces of the men in black. They were Negins. They are thought to be ruthless, never swayed to temptation that the darkness brought upon. They able to hold themselve and even battle to death since the beginning of time. But the light just now was such a bother, it never been expected and it so far from what they believing!

The runes ignited, threads of light weaving up her arms and into the Mark. The air thickened. The ground trembled. And from the shadows at the edge of the room, something stirred — not an Echo, but something worse. Figures began to form — twisted silhouettes of men and beasts, remnants of those the Black Moon had touched. They moved like smoke and screamed like memory. Zevran’s blade flashed. “Here we go again.” He fought without hesitation, cutting through shadows that reformed as fast as he struck them. Each one that fell fed the light around Kaelira’s spell, fueling her strength.

Seems like neither of the girls were morning people. “Arthur?” I turn to see two rather striking wolves. One male is black, the other Middle Eastern. Both are tall and well built. The black male has amber eyes that you can't look away from, while the Middle Eastern male has a jaw that could literally cut granite. I am very secure in my heterosexuality, but even I had to admit these two males are quite handsome. I think that the younger generation would say that they were perfect for a “thirst trap.” I may not be using that right, I have no idea.

I never pushed X for anything he didn’t want to tell me. The Men in Black usually took their own wounded and casualties with them when they left the field after any kind of violent unpleasantness. It was believed that the Men In Black treated their wounded themselves and handled their own dead. X had been in Underdenver with M on a mission when M had been killed outright and X had been too wounded to care for himself. Standard procedure in such an event would have been for the humans to wait for more Men in Black to arrive to handle things, even if that meant letting X die because of the wait when he otherwise could have been saved. Lisa had seen X make noble sacrifices to save humans around

His handsome facial features can be called exquisite, every gesture, every frown and smile was also the focus of the media, all the cameras were aimed at him, and the reporters surrounded him tightly. Martin Blackstorm smiled slightly, full of affinity. "I'm very happy to be able to cooperate with Director Zedd and play the role of Yohannes. Most of the dramas I received in the past were modern dramas, and I am very much looking forward to this time's fantasy role in ancient costumes." "Mr. Blackstorm, I heard that this time most of the collaborators are newcomers, what do you think about this?" "Every actor starts as a newcomer, what's more, I believe in Director Zedd's vision, of course...