When My Ship Comes In Clint Black Novels & Stories

Three slow, deliberate knocks. Not rushed. Not uncertain. A command. A warning. She swallowed hard, slowly walking to the door. Her fingers hovered over the handle. She already knew who it was. Knew what would happen if she opened it. But before she could make a choice— A voice—**his voice—**spoke from the other side. Low. Calm. Inevitable. "Claire." Her pulse roared. "Open the door." And that? That was the moment Claire knew. She never really left. And Adrian Blackwood? He had just come to collect what was his.

My eyes stung suddenly, and I quickly turned away, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears. "Thank you," I said. Andrew raised his head, his smile pure and warm. "You're welcome." "Mister Grant, are you in here?" A voice suddenly came from the door. A man in pajamas, wearing black-framed glasses, stood at the entrance. His eyes quickly landed on me after a brief glance at Andrew. "Sir, you called earlier about someone falling overboard. Is it this young lady here?" Andrew nodded and then turned to me. "He is the medic onboard. He can give you a quick check-up to make sure you're okay."

Wolves and humans alike dragging the wounded to shelter, forming lines with buckets, lifting the fallen. Some still believed. Hope flickered in Cael’s chest. Until the sky split with a roar. A drop ship—black, unmarked—descended over Fernmere’s town square. And from it, cloaked in flame and smoke, Aiden stepped out himself. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. This wasn’t a raid anymore. It was a purge.

It should be illegal to look this nerve wrecking. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a patch of clear slightly tanned skin. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the prominent veins that ran up his back hand. I felt the breath hitch in my wind pipes as our eyes met, his mesmerizing green stare made my cheeks flush and my knees go weak, it was like I was paralyzed as I stood there while his eyes still roamed me. "I don't think I've introduced myself. Damon Blackwood" his husky voice made my heart rate pick up. A smirk crawled unto his features as he stretched out a hand for me and I just stared in awe, his words sinking in.

The morning after Inquisitor Vane’s ultimatum, the Blackwater River looked like a graveyard of iron. Three massive Southern warships sat anchored in the center of the flow, their steam vents huffing rhythmic clouds of grey smoke into the pristine mountain air. They were "teeth" of a different kind—not bone and sinew, but coal and steel. ​Rhea stood on the battlements, her fingers tracing the rough stone of the manor. Beside her, Elias was a statue of suppressed fury. The grey-gold veins on his neck pulsed in time with the thrumming of the ships' engines.

From high atop the watchtowers, a deep, ominous horn sounded across the city. *BWAAAAAH.* *BWAAAAAH.* *BWAAAAAH.* The triple alarm. An invasion. A frantic scout burst through the throne room doors, his face utterly pale with terror. "My King! Urgent report from the coast!" Killian drew his golden blade, his aura flaring instantly. "What now?" "There are massive warships breaching Blackthorn Harbor, sire! Dozens of them, bypassing our naval blockade entirely!" The scout swallowed hard. "They aren't flying rogue banners. They are flying giant, shimmering silver flags."

Please don’t appear. Loraine kept on chanting those words, praying that they wouldn’t see it. Claire sighed and put her clothes back. I looked at her, waiting for her words. Claire shook her head. “There were no traces of marks on her back. It was flawless and there were no traces of tattoos either.” Hearing this, the lump in Loraine’s heart had disappeared. Thank goodness. Thank you mark for not betraying me. The black-haired one laughed. “Of course, it would not be this woman who came from a fallen enemy to bore the Alpha King’s mark. I already told you that she isn’t, and she will never be.”

It was like comparing the differences between night and day. A soft knock sounded at the door and Creighton looked up to see Clark push the barrier open. He stood in the shadows of the dim morning light that shone through the open window, making Creighton realize a storm was quickly closing in. The soft rocking of the ship was apparent though it was safely anchored at the dock. He had been so wrapped up in what he was reading, he hadn’t bothered to notice it, or the clouds that had obscured the morning sunshine. “I thought I’d find you in here,” Clark said with an amused tone to his voice as he flipped the ceiling light on and walked to the desk.

looks like Lance had a history. “Well, how long can you live under fear? Even a life can be planted under deep seas, then we have better opportunities than them. Why waste time when we have to die one day, at least we can create history if we are not in one.” I smiled slightly at him. He looked puzzled and passed a side smile. “Yeah! You are right!” Suddenly, a black SUV stopped while the clouds of dust covered it. As soon as he stepped out, I could feel the bond getting stronger. He is here.

The gold ink on the back of the photo shimmered in the morning light. The Board remains. My heart sank into my stomach. I looked at the horizon, and my blood turned to ice. Six white ships were cutting through the waves toward our small cove. They weren't coming to rescue us. They were coming to collect what was left of the Williams bloodline. "Bryan! Grandpa! They’re here!" I shouted, my voice cracking. Bryan stumbled out of the small cabin, his face pale but his eyes sharp. He saw the ships and immediately reached for his belt. He didn't have his service pistol anymore, just a rusted kitchen knife he had sharpened against a stone.