Wrath Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels & Stories

I twisted in his grip, snapped my head around to look at him and something inside me, something that had been bending for weeks finally broke. "You’re telling me to keep my mouth shut?" I said, voice rising, shaking with fury. "A man just grabbed me. Kissed me. Threatened to fuck me and all. And you’re standing here shaking his hand like he’s your fucking brother? You’re a spineless, skinless idiot, Jasper Blackthorne. You’re not worthy of carrying the Blackthorne legacy. You’re not worthy of carrying anything. Just forfeit the mafia world and go to the village and farm."

He was roughly my age, but his presence carried a volatile, dangerous energy that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He had messy, untamed dark hair, piercing silver eyes, and wore a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt. A lit cigarette dangled lazily from his lips. He was devastatingly gorgeous, sharp and wild, but the arrogant smirk on his face was pure trouble. Everyone knows him! Wyvern Blackblood. The wild and rebellious son of the Alpha. He pushed off the pillar, his silver eyes trailing lazily down my bare legs, lingering on the oversized shirt of his father, before snapping up to my bruised lips.

He looked at the ginger wolf, then at the moon, then back at the wolf. "No," Black whispered, finding courage where there was none. "No, this is impossible. The ritual... the power is supposed to be mine!" I felt the weight of the small knife in my waistband. I didn't think. I didn't plan. I just reacted. I grabbed the handle, pulled it out, and drove it straight into Black’s thigh. He let out a sharp, choked scream. His grip on my arm broke as he stumbled back, clutching his leg. Blood, dark and thick, began to soak through his expensive ritual pants.

Black said to her and lovingly caress her lips with his fingers. With that, he went out to use the other bedroom and get dressed so Daphne can use the main bedroom. SOMEWHERE IN THE CITY ~THE VADOO GANG HIDEOUT~ The most dangerous and famous underworld mafia after the Black Blood which is the signature name for the Williams in the Mafia world. They’ve been enemies for years and trying their best to get back at Black Blood for killing their leader. But years ago, they’ve gotten a new leader who proved to be much stronger than their late boss.

I got down slowly, still staring. The moment my foot touched the ground, the sheer presence of the building swallowed me whole. My gaze ran up its height again. Of course. Of course Dante Blackwaters wasn’t an ordinary man. He wasn’t only the most powerful werewolf in the world—he was filthy rich, untouchable, a king in every way. I forced the air back into my lungs, pushed down the trembling inside me, and straightened my back. With as much elegance as I could summon, I walked inside.

I yell. We form a circle facing outward, surrounding the enemy. Each one of us attacks with deadly accuracy. Within seconds, they begin dropping like flies. Blood is everywhere, as my teeth sink deep into necks and limbs snap under heavy blows. They don't stand a chance against my wrath. After defeating every last one of them, we wipe our bloody hands together and stare at each other in triumph. "Damn, that felt good," Darius says breathing heavily. "We're awesome! We're Blackwood wolves," I laugh.

“He eats hearts. He doesn’t do portals. He hunts. That means ground war. That means he’s bringing packs with him.” “How many?” Caiden asks. He’s back on his feet. Rifle gone. Blade out. “Blackmire had two hundred before they vanished,” Wrath says. “Assume all.” Two hundred. Plus one kid who can level tanks by crying. Against our three hundred seventy. “Not good odds,” Mercy says. “Good,” Draven says. He steps forward. Finally. Alpha again. “Because we don’t fight odds. We fight enemies.” He looks at me. “Mother. What’s his weakness?”