Tmnt Black Novels & Stories

he seen the picture his anger became extreme . he slammed the glass table with his hands and said "kill him I want him to be dead at any cost" assistant nodded his head and wanted to say something but he is being calm and silent milan asked "what you wanted to say" assistant said hesitatingly "sir black panther people were following madam.. don't know why and exactly at the sametime not sure about that people whether belongs to black panther gang or not"

He could see a silhouette of a young man, walking towards him. Amari has rested assuredly. They had won the second stage. The guy with raven black hair, dirtied face, and black blood covered in his clothes and face. He wiped it off and put back his sword from his waist. "Amari, I'm sorry." He said worriedly and offered his hand to his comrade. Amari almost cried in relief accepting, his hand. "We did it." Amari looked at the Whole Arena. The dead SCHIZOPHREN was laying in the ground with its tentacles splatted all over the place. Alkhun has defeated the monster. They started to see the people outside. Looking at them in awe.

She was raised in the shadows. He rules the world from the light. But her secret could burn the entire kingdom to the ground. For eighteen years, Nadia Hayes lived like a phantom. Hidden deep inside a secluded cave by her grandmother, she survived on river fish, harsh training, and silent longing. As the last living survivor of the forbidden Blackblood lineage, her existence is a death sentence. Her only crime is the blood in her veins—and her only desire is to know what it feels like to belong. Then, one desperate mistake exposes her secret to the realm. Hunted across enemy territory, Nadia flees to the remnant of her ancestral people, praying for sanctuary. Instead, she finds a clan

All I knew was I was running, and I was doing it as fast as possible…well, until I bumped into something as hard as a wall. “Easy…” The voice came in, and a hand surged forward, grabbing my arms and holding me still from falling. My breath hitched slightly, and I cast a glance, but in that brief moment of confirmation, all the air in my lungs vanished, and I froze. I had been too broken to play the voice in my head, but thinking about it now, he sounded as hot as he looked. Zaydeen Black of the Blacktorn stood at a reckless 6’4”, towering above me with a fucking six-inch advantage. He was dressed in a cosmic night suit, yet it hugged his figure so well my inner self churned from the sight.

a voice drawled from the shadows. Timothy bolted upright, the movement sending a sickening pulse through his skull. Kan Nelblack leaned against the dresser, his dark hair messy, his silver-grey eyes tracking Timothy like a target. He’d ditched the top hat, looking less like a circus ringmaster and more like the butcher he was. The tiger chuffed, stretching its massive limbs with a grace that made Timothy’s stomach do a slow, nauseous roll. The memory hit him like a lead pipe to the gut. The alley. The bite. The betrayal.

“We’ll be crushed if we fall into the river. No one can be a match for this beast!” Everyone on the boat panicked and instinctively channeled their immortal essence into the boat to resist the turtle’s powerful attacks. Then, a massive force struck again, and the boat shook even more violently. “Oh no! We’ve entered the range of Blackwater City, and all our powers have been suppressed. Even combined, we’re no match for this beast. Everyone, give it your all!” “We’ll be annihilated if we don’t give it our all.” “Now’s not the time to hold back.”

Third-person POV The intelligence arrived from New York at eleven-seventeen on a Friday night. Maksim Orlov was plotting to court the daughter of Viktor Sorano. The gala. A calculated power-play. A clout-grab dressed up as romance. Enzo Valenti received this information with the urgency it deserved. He let out a slow breath, leaned back deeper into Dorian's leather armchair, and resumed sucking on a Twizzler. Black Panther played on across the flat-screen. He fixed his gaze on the man standing at the doorway.

His registered shock first before flicking to anger before I could even blink. "You!" He growled. I composed myself, letting a mischevious smile linger on my lips. "Come here to cause trouble? Granny, close the door!" He ordered, tightening his hold on my cheeks, forcing my lips into a pout. "No! I'm part of the gang, now!" I lied, hoping he would buy it. "I'm not that stupid, doll." "Oh, didn't Brent inform you. I'm taking over after your bullshit excuse of a leader. The tattoo is fake, just an easy access to whatever this place is. I'll get the real one after my plan succeeds," I went on, my voice honeyed.

''So let's start. ''Yeah, let's.......'' We spoke the whole of the afternoon mainly about unnecessary things like between white shelled eggs and brown shelled eggs which produce the cutest chicks. By evening, we were done and he made his way out. As he attempted to grab his jacket off the stand rack I noticed a tattoo stapled at the back of his neck. It looked like a face but half of its face was that of a human with long fangs and the other part morphed into a deadly looking wolf.

A smirk crawled unto his features as he stretched out a hand for me and I just stared in awe, his words sinking in. Damon Blackwood, as in Black Empire Blackwood. The self made billionaire, that's impossi- I quickly slid my hand into his, realising I had left him hanging. Bad first impression Jasmine! You idiot!! I mentally scolded myself, I needed this job. Don't fuck it up! Don't fuck it up! I played those words in my head like a song on repeat. 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍 Her skin felt like velvet against mine. I had to resist the urge to take her hands to my lips to kiss them and appreciate her effortless beauty.