Novel & Cerita Sky Dweller Black Face

I pushed deeper into the crowd, pulling my hood forward with my free hand until the fabric covered half my face and my burned fingers gripped the edge of it and held on. The crowd pressed forward and I moved with it and between the heads and shoulders in front of me I could see the gate and in front of the gate a line of Blackthorn wolves standing shoulder to shoulder and in front of them, standing alone with his arms at his sides and his face like carved stone, was Dax. He looked wrong, not wrong the way the sky had looked wrong on the morning of the fire but wrong the way a house looks when it's been empty too long, the shape still right but the life gone out of it.

Her face was calm, unreadable, the face of someone who had seen generations of wolves rise, claim, bleed, and fall, and no longer wasted emotion on things she had not yet witnessed. Beside the dais stood Decker. He wore black. Not ornamental black. Not the sort meant to draw the eye with decoration. This was Dark Mountain black clean, severe, fitted to strength rather than vanity. His jacket sat close across his shoulders, the line of it sharp against the breadth of him, his dark hair brushed back, his jaw set. He looked every inch what he was. Alpha.

Before Celena could shout for help, the man hit Celena on the back of her neck. Celena fainted before she could even figure out what happened. Seeing that Celena collapsed, the man in black slowly lifted his cap, revealing his face that was covered in scars. He was the assassin named Dylan who was in the apartment earlier. A wicked grin appeared on Dylan's face as he looked at Celena, who was on the ground in front of him. In a cold voice, he said, "I'm quite surprised that the target this time is just a powerless woman. It's too easy."

His eyes gleam with the familiar fire I know too well. And last but definitely not least is one who towers over them all; Clad in all-black sweatpants, trainers and hoodie, is Dante. His black hair gleams under the sunlight, looking almost blue. A pair of sunglasses cover his eyes that no one is able to look into without feeling the need to bend to his mercy. “Hey there, My Cherry Blossom.”

His cold, calculating smile sent a chill down my spine as he surveyed the room, his gaze locking onto mine. "So, you’re still alive," he said with a sneer. "Impressive." "Who the hell are you?" I demanded, my voice laced with venom. The man chuckled darkly. "My name is Dorian Blackwood. And I’m the one who’s been pulling the strings all along."

Not because I was sad, but because of how badly it hurt. “I never expected to see you here, Daxxy!” her black hair was pixie cut with jean shorts and a black flowy tank top. I could see her tattoo down her arm. It was a crest moon shaped dream catcher with lines down that ended into shapes of birds. If my education is correct, this should be the Black Hawk Coven. “I never figured I would be down here, but I am on business.” I heard Dax say before I turned around. “This is Ben, Samuel, Duke Jason and Pr-”

Dave leans in to me. “I wish they would just date already.” He whispers to me. I laugh again. Meanwhile back at Pale Moon Pack Dawson’s POV I walk out to the clearing for my scheduled meeting with the Shadow Pack. I have brought a small amount of warriors for security. The moon is high and casts its light all around us. I see a few figures in the shadows as we approach. One man walks to the middle to greet me. He has long black hair, and his eyes are jet black. He looks like a wild animal. There is a scar on his cheek, making him look even more abnormal.

She knew that walk. She knew that presence. Then the man stepped into the light. Daniel Cross. He looked exactly the same as the last time she saw him. Tall. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes that held a cruel amusement. But tonight there was something more in those eyes. Something colder. Something dangerous. Daniel glanced around the penthouse slowly, as if he were admiring the place. “Well,” he said casually. His voice was smooth, almost friendly. “Alexander Blackwood.” Alexander’s voice was ice.

Of course, to his rotten Father. Dionne watched me and studied my dark face. I clenched my fist tightly as I looked at nowhere with my face being dark. Dionne clicked her tongue and suddenly a group of people is starting to barge in the bakery and all of them are in the black suit. All of them are women, they have cold faces and some of them have black eyeglasses and cigarettes in their mouths. Dionne snapped her finger and everyone sat down. My dark face disappeared and was replaced by curiosity.

Date = 8 August Place = San Francisco (Black Pit) POV - Aria The kitchen hums with low chatter and clattering pans — right up until Sky lifts her hand to her mouth and goes perfectly still. Her eyes lock on the doorway, and the warmth in the room drains like someone cracked a thermostat to freezing. “Fock,” she breathes. A shadow fills the entrance. “I fucking told you to stay in bed and rest,” a deep voice growls. My shoulders jump. My spine snaps straight. Sky just smirks at the storm walking straight toward her, slow and wicked, like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.