Villainous Black Novels & Stories

Violence is only a means to obtain order, it can never be order itself. You may be powerful, but you are not a god. I am He who has a black heart, and a dark soul. I shall avenge those who have been wronged, and my vengeance upon those who wronged me shall shock the earth. I am Vengeance god Black Heart”

Each of them formidable alphas from packs with unique abilities and legacies. Caius Knight Black of the Nightshade Pack was a tall man with long, sleek black hair that framed his chiseled face. His eyes were a piercing silver, sharp and calculating, often concealed under the shadow of his brow. The Nightshade Pack was known for their mastery over shadows and stealth, and Caius embodied that secrecy and quiet danger. His wolf, as dark as night itself, was a shadow among shadows, capable of blending into the darkness without a trace.

He scowled and said coldly, "Cassandra, I hope you can scream just as loud when you're standing trial." He paused, letting his contempt show. "Since you're so pathetically clueless, let me tell you my name. I'm Damian Blackwood, Alpha of the Moonshadow pack. "If you've heard of me, then you should know I never let grudges go. Everything you did to Vivian, I'll make you pay for it twice as much. "Don't think I don't know what you did overseas. You bullied a classmate and drove her to suicide. And you even had people raped your friend.

“Give me the asset blood-pen,” Vickon Blackwynd said, reaching across the obsidian table with those scarred hands, ready to anchor his mark below the territorial parchment. Everything about him, from the careful movement to the pinched silence, radiated a predatory finality. For a moment, he just stood there, huge and unmoving, and the room seemed to tighten around him. Was he really agreeing with everything I’d just confessed to the high council, or was I only fooling myself? Sometimes, I wondered if I just wanted his alliance badly enough to imagine it.

] Stephanie shrieked, "You bitch! You'll say anything to slander him! Show us the report right now! Talk is cheap. Making things up is cheap!" I met the blustering woman and her panicked boyfriend with an unfazed look. "Shall I call Dr. Ross and have him read every part of the report to our esteemed family and guests?" Vincent sank back into the coffin, defeated and disbelieving. "This can't be. I am normal. I'm a normal man. I know I could…" "As for you, my so-called best friend. That baby you've been using to force your way into the Whitaker family. If I were you, I'd start asking whose child it really is. Is it Vincent's?"

Нis blаck hаir is tоusled just sо, аnd thе hint оf а smile plаys аt thе cornеrs оf his lips, sending а shivеr dоwn my sрine. Beside him stаnds аnоthеr mаn, equаlly аs аttrаctive but in а different wаy. Dressed in а slееk blаck suit. Fоr а momеnt, I'm speeсhless, cаught оff guаrd by thеir unexpeсted presenсe. Who аre thеy, аnd whаt аre thеy dоing hеre?

THE VILLIAN Written By: Rosapearl ✍ Synopsis✍ Olivia Smith is Clifford college most popular girl, she is the envy of the girls and a sight for a sore eyes of the guys. she is from a average family. her parent run a restaurant in town. she is beautiful, alluring, intelligent, bold, confident, sexy, gracious and a nerd. she has everyone attention when she walks. Her big glass and back pack always look funny thou. Miller Jill is a jerk, hot guy with a athletic build body, he look like he is in his twenties even in his seventeenth. He love playing around and teasing. He has been Olivia Smith best friend since grade one.

The Villain People might describe me as abrasive. Of course, I don't agree. I simply show little concern for the feelings of others because I don't give a shit about your problems when I have my own. If that's abrasive well fuck, I'm abrasive. But I'm not like that all the time. It's people like Morrison and his balls-scratching heathens you call football players that bring out the worst in a girl like me.

His hands curled slowly against the armrests of the wheelchair. Disabled. She hadn’t used the word lightly. But he heard it anyway. Felt it anyway. Because meaning did not require vocabulary. Because humiliation rarely needed translation. His chest burned. A slow, vicious ache spreading behind his ribs. He was Damian Blackwell. Head of an empire. A man whose name alone bent men into obedience. A man feared, respected, whispered about like a living weapon. And yet— A single sentence from Sera Voss had reduced him to something he despised being reminded of.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. Another shot. Then silence. Alessia's arm remained wrapped tightly around her. "Are you hurt?" Amara shook her head. "No." "Good." "Alessia..." "I'm here." Amara held onto her. For once, she didn't care about the secrets. She didn't care about the lies. All she knew was that Alessia was holding her like losing her would destroy something inside her. And in that darkness, Amara finally understood something. Maybe the woman everyone called a villain wasn't the person she should have been afraid of.