Sirus Black Novels & Stories

At the counter, I see an auburn haired man twisting a glass of alcohol. He’s smiling at the waitress, probably flirting, but what catches my eyes is the spiral of tattoo on his hand. No way, he’s one of them. As if on cue, our eyes connect and he lifts his lips in a rather infuriating manner. He bobs off the stool and walks towards me. He sits down, he has broad shoulders, his flowing locks of hair cascade down his back, with a scowl imprinted on his face, he stretches his hand. “Ferris Black.”

Harry's casual demeanor faded away. "Do you know Peter Black?" I asked. "The infamous mafia boss and CEO of Black Group?" "Exactly." I shared everything I knew with Harry, including my mistakes. He understood my actions in the aftermath, but also acknowledged that this Peter Black seemed to be a significant figure, a typical mafia type. I mocked him, suggesting that if Black was truly typical and only used his fists, would Neil be in harm's way?

Syrius laughed and his subordinates joined him as well. This was a mental show. Every single one of them needed to be locked up for life. They were all psychopaths and as I looked at them, I noticed that their eyes bore a similar resemblance to Syrius’ — black and empty, devoid of any semblance of humanity. “You’re quite aware of what transpired between the both of us and I do not intend to say anything else about it, it’s a forgotten tale right now. But does Mike have to do with me?”

Sarah felt Diego tense beside her. "Hello, Diego," the man said cordially. "It's been a while." "Blackwood," Diego responded, voice flat. "I thought you retired." The man—Blackwood—smiled thinly. "The government asked me to handle one last operation." His gaze shifted to Sarah. "And you must be the famous Sarah Walsh. Your reputation precedes you." Sarah studied him carefully. Mid-sixties, silver hair, the polished bearing of someone accustomed to authority. She'd never seen him before, yet something about him seemed familiar.

“You think this is over? You’ve only broken the lock. The thing beneath the Black Moon stirs, child. And it remembers your name.” Kaelira’s blood ran cold. “No,” she whispered. “The Echo was the last of it. I destroyed it.” “You destroyed its shell,” Varyn said. “But its heart — the true Black Moon — was never in this world to begin with. It’s waiting. And it’s calling you home.” Zevran stepped forward. “Then we’ll burn your god a second time.” Varyn’s expression softened, almost pitying. “You can’t fight the storm, boy. You can only drown in it.”

He looked down at his fingers, then looked back up at us, his eyes wide and frantic, but the sick, manipulative smile was still tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You... you think you won," Elias wheezed, blood bubbling at his lips as he struggled to speak. He looked directly at me, his voice a ragged, desperate whisper. "You think this changes... anything? The video is still playing, Kira. The vanguards are still... marching. They will find his body... they will see a human murdered by a wolf. I am... a martyr now. I will always be... the man who saved them from you..." His head snapped back. His eyes rolled into the top of his skull, and his hands dropped heavily to his sides. Elias Bla

They had manipulated Kira’s former mate into stirring conflict within his own pack, creating the perfect opportunity to eliminate Kaelen. “Kaelen was supposed to die at the hands of the Blackwood Pack; that way, everything would resolve itself cleanly, with no loose threads leading back to us. But I never expected that Blackwood brat to be so weak. Tch! I thought he was supposed to be one of their elite warriors,” Sirius sneered. The guard, now serving as Sirius’s acting second-in-command, continued his report. “Kira Wilder was the one who got shot. The silver poisoned her wolf, so it’s unlikely they’ll be able to return anytime soon.”

"Every frame. I’ve got him." "That’s the kill-shot, Rossi," Sophia whispered, her voice cracking with awe. "You’ve got the past and the present. You’ve got his head." "Initiating exit," Lina said, watching the shadows below. "Tell the server to stay open. I’m coming in hot."

She turned her head, to see the devotion in his eyes, and offered him a smile in return. Killian took a deep breath, forcing himself back into his strategic mindset. He stepped closer to her, his expression turning deadly serious. "Now that I have officially confirmed it is the real Cassius Blackwood..." Killian rumbled, his eyes locked onto hers with a dark warning. "I am afraid we are getting dragged into a very, very messy game, Sweetness. Cassius is a Sadistic who loves playing games." Instead of looking terrified, Elara’s lips curved into a smirk.

The shrieking frequency of the stones instantly flatlined into a deep, harmonious hum. The violent shaking of the cavern ceased. The falling debris suspended itself in mid-air before clattering softly onto the obsidian floor. Across the chamber, Vane stared in absolute, paralyzing horror as the control console beneath his hands sparked, smoked, and finally melted into a useless puddle of slag. "No... impossible," Vane whispered, stepping back in sheer terror. "That core requires an imperial bloodline... it shouldn't respond to a lowland servant—" "I was never a servant, Vane," I said, my voice carrying an overwhelming, supernatural resonance that echoed off every stone wall of the Scriptoriu