Sky Dweller Black Face Novels & Stories

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.

Skylo chuckled, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher. I shot him a glare, my patience thin. “You have got a death wish today? Stop getting on my fucking nerves, would you?” I yelled, picking up the final glass of wine in my cup and drowning it. Skylo grinned. “I mean, you could kill me, but that wouldn’t change the fact that you…. DAMIEN BLACK, hesitated because he couldn't torture his enemy's daughter” He mocked in a gruesome way and I smashed the whiskey cup in my hand, the loudness, reverberated back into my head.

"Take it down! Quit causing trouble!" Damon's gang of cronies instantly jumped in to swarm me with comments and insults. As I sat there sipping my water and watching them lose their minds, I couldn't feel any better. Finally, I set my phone down and turned to the he-wolf beside me. "Is it true that you're… Zane Duskbane?" Wearing a cap and mask, Zane was dressed in black from head to toe, which completely covered every inch of his skin. He nodded at my question.

She pulled on his discarded shirt from the night before—a soft, worn thing that smelled like him—and padded barefoot toward the source of the smell. What she found stopped her in the doorway. Dante Blackwood, the monster of the boardroom, the terror of hostile takeovers, the wolf who had nearly killed a man with his bare hands, stood at the stove in nothing but low-slung sweatpants. His dark hair was still damp from a shower, his broad shoulders relaxed, and he was... flipping pancakes. With a spatula. Humming.

As he grinned, his white, utterly hairless face stretched like rubber. As one skeletal guard closed the door, another readied the chair at the end of the table. The pale man sat. He did not remove his hat. As Mother wiped her face with her napkin, Father cleared his throat. “Welcome, Mr. Cillian. I am Benjamin Blackwood. This is my wife Elizabeth—” He paused, for the skeletal creatures were marching over to stand behind his and Mother’s chairs. “Do continue,” said Mr. Cillian. His voice was excessively nasal. “Don’t mind the Reapers. They’re friendly, that’s all.”

"I've been waiting a long time to meet you." He stepped into the light. His face was scarred, a long jagged line running from his forehead to his jaw, the kind of wound that spoke of violence and survival. His eyes were dark, almost black, and they fixed on me with an intensity that made my blood run cold. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Who are you?" I whispered. He stepped closer, his boots heavy on the stone floor. "My name is Damon Blackthorn. And you're coming with me."

Stone greeted and the girl who sat on Stone's lap got up and swung her ass towards Jason. "So you are the famous Black Moon. I've heard a lot about you, but despite that, I want to hear from you" she sucked her lower lip and brought it out gently all wet, the girl had a small black butterfly mask, her eyes were painted black and her lips too. She wore black leather gloves which stopped right at her elbow, and her bra and panties made of net were all black. Everything she had on was black, including her heeled boots. "Stone, get to the deal " his voice echoed in the room. From Stone, Jason averted his gaze to the flirty lady

I was almost done with the clearing and cleaning, I saw a shadow in the shop as my head was bent to the ground. I knew at once it was not a customer because there was nothing seen on the display. I rushed to lift my head and I saw my nightmare standing in front. I ignored his presence at first, minding my work. "Am I too small for you to notice?" Mr. Jack quizzed. Since the death of my mother, his number has been on the blacklist and he does not know my house. I kept him speechless. "Did you know how many days have been coming here, hoping to see you?" He asked another question.