Sirus Black Novels & Stories

“Sorry to interrupt, Alpha King. I thought the black virus could only affect a werewolf.” “We have one in common. That’s why it affects us too. How do you know about it?” “We call it black virus because of the nature of the infected. It bleeds black blood after all the veins turn black and burst. The last time I heard, at least eight werewolves are dead in Portland.” “So what do you want from me, Dylan? You finally found each other.” Zarah looked at Nirvana. “I know Dylan. You can trust him.” “So far, he’s proving himself to be useful.”

He hissed lowly then he went silent when his eyes drop to where Gregor had shattered my bond with my mate. His brows furrowed and he reached forward, his finger brushing against the still opened bite. When he pulled his hand away and brought it to his face, I saw black. Black blood. "Your wolf is rejecting the bond between you and Gregor." He said more to himself. I looked at him coldly, a sneer on my face. "What did you expect? For her to give in to someone other than her mate?" Sirus shook his head. " You do know what this means right?"

The woman leaves without saying anything else. This Damon Black is the most important businessman in the USA, he owns a transportation company, but the worst part is that he's one of the most dangerous people I've ever heard of. How do I know? Because a large part of his business is conducted in Sicily. That's why my boss avoided doing business with him. How could I have been so blind? -Are you okay, I startle and swallow hard when I hear his voice. -Yes, I try to answer without stuttering.

The street lamps began to crumble just like they had done the day of the accident, the earth crumbling as the ground quaked. “Seems you could use a little help, little vamparina.” A masculine voice resonated in the air. Vamparina? There he stood, along with my parents, his eyes red, his black dreadlocks running down along his face, his muscles big, merging perfectly with his physique, his perfectly chiseled jawline with a black cloak on. “Blood!” They groaned. “Back to the underworld.” He said as he raised his hands. The air stood still, flame engulfing the creatures in a minute. Groans filled the air as they began to disintegrate into soot, flowing along with the wind.

Nyra. I forced a polite smile. “Thank you, Siora. You can leave.” She nodded and slipped out quietly. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, I picked up the vial and uncorked it cautiously. A pungent, sulfurous odor immediately stung my nostrils. I recoiled slightly, and without a second thought, I poured the black liquid onto the cold stone floor. It didn’t behave like any liquid I’d ever seen.

The night sky loomed beyond the rubble, a deep, inky blackness that was suddenly invaded by a bright single light. A helicopter hovered directly outside, its rotors whipping up a maelstrom of dust and debris. A line dropped down from the chopper, and a figure descended, their movements fluid and deliberate. They wore the same black uniforms as George's men. As they landed, I caught sight of Sirius Dark, his imposing figure illuminated by the helicopter's spotlight. His black eye patch glinted, and his long, jet-black hair was tousled on both sides, framing his chiseled features. He jumped down from the line with an air of confidence, flanked by several of his men, who fanned out around him l

But dread coiled in my belly with every trembling step I took across the marble floors of the grand hall. I stopped before him --- Alpha Sylus, the leader of the Blackwood pack. He stood tall, broad and well-built, with spiky light blond hair, his emerald green eyes locked on me with an unreadable expression. The dark tattoo running down his left arm seemed to pulse beneath the skin. Stories swirled around him to be ruthless, violent, drunk with power. And now...mine. I swallowed the lump rising in my throat.

“So you think I’m only worth thirty dollars?” His voice was calm, too calm, the kind that made your blood run cold. My heart stopped. I knew that voice. That face. Mr. Adrian Blackwell. My CEO. My one-night stand. Fuck!

The air in the North Tower’s deepest sub-level did not just carry the scent of dust and neglect; it carried the heavy, metallic tang of a past that had been buried alive. Silas Blackwood moved through the stacks of yellowed ledgers with a frantic, desperate energy. His gold-and-sapphire skin, a permanent brand of the divine unweaving he had endured, cast a rhythmic, flickering light against the stone walls. Each pulse of his aura felt like a heartbeat, irregular and pained.

Author's POV Serena gave a single, grim nod, her eyes darkening like gathering storm clouds. "I suspect it. Has Mr. Alvin reported anything? Any preliminary findings from the investigation?" "Been too busy putting out metaphorical fires at the studio and running here," Sally admitted, pulling out her phone. "Want me to call him now?" Before Serena could nod, the door to the private room swung open. Ryan Blackwood stood framed in the doorway. His face was unnaturally pale, stark against the dark fabric of his coat, a clear testament to his own battle with smoke inhalation. The very air in the room seemed to crystallize.