Sky Dweller Black Face Novels & Stories

I didn't like basements, especially in vampire's homes. "William—" "Shh." I clamped my mouth shut. The three men and three women stopped talking when William and I entered. Two of the men and two of the women were pale white. If I had seen them walking the streets, I would have surely noticed them. The other woman was Asian, dainty but stunning. Her skin wasn't pale, but she could have used a bit of "tan in a can." The other man was black, and for a moment I thought I was looking at Omar Epps. My mouth dropped open before I realized that it wasn't him. Day-um. Brother man had a chocolate complexion that didn't need any enhancement.

He was wearing all black with a black long coat and there was a hoodie on his head as he walked with his head low. I didn't focus on him much as I was busy singing a song. But as the man was about to walk past me all of a sudden he grabbed my wrist and I looked up. My breath got stuck in my throat when I saw the scar face. His eyes looked down at me like a predator and I was his prey. We were walking but I don't know in which direction. Everything around me stopped and all I could see or think was him.

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.

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."

The man gives me a steady look. "Hello, ma'am. Please call me Dax." His blue eyes appear menacing on his bruised face. I'm fairly sure he's the guy who followed us on the bike. I'm not into the skinhead look, but I can't deny he's attractive. Whereas Alex and Moon look and act like gentlemen, this man is rough with hard edges. I have little doubt that he's as deadly as the other two men in the room.

"Close your mouth!" At this moment, a tall, muscular man stepped out from the darkness. On his hands, monstrous tattooed shapes, skulls, crossbones. He also wears a mask to hide his face. Declan and his gaze met hate, making the atmosphere oppressive and scary. Through observation, Declan can guess that this is the Black Snake - the owner of this neighborhood. Behind him was a group of people, full of fierce faces and also tattooed. Declan could tell at a glance that they all had weapons on them, but that couldn't intimidate someone like Declan.

I wanted to lunged at her, to show her what survival in the Expanse had taught me about fighting, but the front doors swung open. “The Blackthorne Pack has arrived,” a servant announced. Darius rushed to the door, his tail practically wagging as he ushered them in. A sleek, motorized wheelchair rolled into the hall. The man sitting in it was the one from the boutique Kaelen Blackthorne. Up close, his beauty was devastating. Sharp, aristocratic features, eyes like molten obsidian, and shoulders so broad they seemed to strain against his dark coat. He looked paralyzed. He looked broken. But I remembered the boutique. I remembered seeing him stand for a split second when he thought no one was l

I questioned, trying to sound as friendly as I could. He gave me a glance, which was a little less unfriendly than the dirty ones he had been throwing our way. “You know,” he said, growing annoyed as the time passed. “I am wasting my breath here. Mr. Black was right. You all are so fake.” My lips parted. Mr. Black? Nathan? Could it be? His full name was Nathan Black. It only made sense that he had a hand in whatever was happening. I recalled the familiar wolf I saw just standing on the sidelines, staring at the wolves tearing each other apart. The cloaked woman who was sitting on his back muttered inaudible words under her breath while making strange movements with her hands.

Skye replied while folding his arms. "You're one to talk, boy" the leader scolded. "If it wasn't for your kind, we wouldn't be fighting over turf like dogs hounding over scraps" the leader added angrily causing a few of his people to release angry grumbles in agreement. "Our kind?" Skye asked before the man moved his face down to greet Skyes. "Dark Dwelling scum" the man spat, causing Skye to mentally cringe from the spit that touched his right cheek. Wiping it briefly Skye watched the man stand back up straight.

Zayden was not in the courtyard. A broad man I recognized from Garrett's intelligence reports as Darius Kane stood at the entrance steps. Pale eyes that assessed me in one complete pass and moved on to Garrett and the four wolves behind me and completed a full calculation before settling back on my face. "Beta Kane," I said. "Alpha Blackthorn," he said. "You'll understand if we ask your wolves to wait in the outer yard." "Garrett comes with me," I said. Darius glanced once at me. "One," he said.