Taming Killian Black Novels & Stories

The 'Destroyer' is starting to wake up. "Next time," Killian told his daughter, "Wait until you're off-camera. I’ll teach you how to scramble the sensors." "Killian Blackwood!" I groaned. "You are going to raise a super-villain!" "No," Killian said, pulling me close and kissing my forehead. "I'm raising a Blackwood. And the world better get used to it." As we walked to the car, I looked at my two children. The Golden Boy and the Shadow Girl.

Something inside his chest began to fold anger to something new which was the Will to strike back. He reduced his name for the Ashbourne but they had betrayed him. This is unforgivable. But not here. Not now. Killian Dante doesn't act impulsively. His actions are calculated. Without another word, he pulled out the divorce paper from the envelope, dug a nail into his skin deep enough to collect blood. He pressed his bloody thumb onto the divorce paper. Cassandra and Jack exchanged a stunned glance. "What are you—" Killian slapped the paper on the desk. "I'm done with you, Cassandra Ashbourne."

Jake asked. Oh yeah, yeah everything is fine. Kate’s immediate response with a smile and pretended that nothing is going on. Jake smiled and contented with her answer. Afterwards, the cabin crew came and offered them their snacks but both of them didn’t want anything. Would you like some champagne? Jake asked Kate. Oh, sssure.. Kate replied hesitantly. It’s just a glass of champagne she thought to herself. They both enjoyed their champagne. Jake initiated the conversation. They talked about some funny stuff in the training and Kate realize that Jake seems to be fun and harmless. Jake on the other hand enjoyed their conversation and Kate’s company.They both didn’t realize that the airplane is

“Oh, for the love of Captain Hammer’s nipples. Yes, that’s all. We met for coffee. We talked. I played the whole ‘wanting to get to know you’ game. He was . . . nice enough. I guess.” “Nice enough? Well fuck me in the ass with a splintery wooden spoon and call me Sally Struthers . . . Sarah Killian, you little goodie-girl, you like this guy, don’t you?” “Will you please not use my fucking real name while we are on assignment? And no, I do not like Duke Anderson. He’s a low-life hillbilly hick who I wouldn’t even give a passing glance to if it weren’t for this damn mission.”

The scar on his eye was angry red. Behind him stood Damian. Her murderer. Her fiancé. Seeing him made Arielle’s blood boil. The Void surged. Kill him, it whispered. Rip his throat out. Arielle clenched her fists. Not yet, she told the monster. Wait. "Lycian," Kaelen said smoothly. He didn't stand up. "You look well." "For a terrorist." Lycian sat opposite him. He didn't touch the tea. "Self-defense, Kaelen."

I seethe at him. He regards me with a smirk, one that annoys the shit out of me and then he lowers his voice, his eyes on me as he scoffs. “You want to be a whore so bad, don't you?” he glares at me and snorted. “Well, dream on. Dream on, Tamara.” his expression turns cold, a refreshing change from sadness and anger, but not a change I welcomed. I look at Killian and he has this taunting look —eyebrows all scrunched up, daring me to defy.

He cut short his father’s report and went directly to the point, “Dad, I have something important to ask you.” “What is it?” “Have you ever heard of the words, The Black Sigil?” Damien remained quiet after hearing that. He was so quiet that Killian thought that he had hung up the phone. He looked at his phone screen and, seeing that the call was still ongoing, he called out, “Dad, are you still there?” Damien came back to his senses. His voice shook a little as he asked Killian in an agitated voice, “Killian, where did you hear those words from?”

I hurried down the long, winding driveway, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs. *Protect the baby. Get to the gate.* The wrought-iron gates loomed out of the mist, their sharp decorative pikes pointing toward the black sky like warning fingers. Just beyond them, a matte-black SUV sat idling, its headlights extinguished. It looked like a predator waiting in the tall grass. As I approached, the back door opened. Killian Blackwood stepped out. He wasn't wearing the charcoal mask anymore. In the pale moonlight, his features were sharp, his jaw set in a grim line of determination. He looked lethal—a man who had spent his entire life preparing for this moment.

Then I stopped existing. Killian was hardcore, I came so hard I blacked out.