Severus Black Novels & Stories

Quintus hissed from a few yards off and the words half came out as a shriek in the night. Porcius moved up to face Severus in the moonlight. Over his face, Severus sported a blanket of clear gelatin, a thick film moving like rushing water. Eyes and mouth wide open, nostrils flaring, Severus struggled for air, but none came to him as the translucent fluid flowed about his face.

Not fifteen minutes had passed when the devil walked in. My eyes met his cold brown ones, and I immediately regretted it when the image of last night came to mind. Neither of us said a word, and I continued my breakfast, pretending he wasn't there. He wore a pair of black jeans that hang loosely around his hips, a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and a black Adidas. What was this, the national black day? It suited him; though I assure you, his soul was darker still. "You'll get cold in that," He walked toward me and stuffed one of my strawberries into his mouth. A delicious smell consumed my nostrils. His perfume.

"I see, you have not awakened completely yet." The less hunky dude stopped, and looked at her more deeply, then he extended his arm offering a shake. "I'm Aeirmish Schmer of Greàboa." But he got turned down gracefully. "I'm also a magic user as much as you are. Watch!" He then turned to the door, stretched his right hand at it... "Em traez ord" His black lens turned green, as he watched the door breakdown and slowly crumble into dust. She became a bit settled and took a step closer to him; looking at her own palms and back at what remained of the door.

I looked down the hallway and through the other side, and there was actually no one in sight. My heart hammered as I approached the large double office doors with D. BLACKWOOD engraved on the metal plate. I forced my trembling hand to knock. No answer. Great. I knocked again. Still nothing. Screw it. I pushed the door open— —and froze in place. Damian Blackwood sat behind his massive black desk. Sharp suit. Cuffed sleeves. Jaw tight enough to crack a diamond. He didn’t look up at me. Not even a glance. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by his deep voice.

Draco's deathly aura when he entered the van indicated he was in one of his worst moods, which was very surprising considering he had been with the lady boss just a few moments ago. Let's face it, Draco had finally been showing human emotions these past few weeks ever since he met Miss Jones. The man was previously like a robot who, apart from his deathly glares and his signature frigid scowl that always adorned his face, showed no emotion that could tell you what he was thinking or feeling inside.

I blinked and looked away, but my heart betrayed me with a restless flutter. Every time I saw him, I felt it, that strange sensation in my chest, familiarity, curiosity, longing. As though I knew him from a dream I couldn’t remember. Sevarion had joined our pack a few years ago, though no one knew from where. He kept to himself, always quiet and alone. Yet he was impossible to ignore. Tall, with broad shoulders and a sculpted frame. His jaw was sharp, his cheekbones noble, and his rare green eyes gleamed with something ancient. He looked like a god carved from moonlight and shadows.

Black The Origin Chapter 3: Purpose Having direct eye contact with his father's familiar green determined eyes. Alkhun evaporating black smoke, slowly coming back from him. "Violence is not the only Resolve," Kepler said staring at his youngest son, who is currently at 10 years of age. Then he switched his gaze to his oldest don, Marlo. Marlo Berhalksawn, Daughter of Arzar. A 20 years old child, and the most deserving to the seat.