Romans de Unique princesses

The sharp scent of antiseptic hit Elora’s nose before her eyes fluttered open. The world was too bright, a flood of white light searing against her vision. The steady beep of a machine echoed in the sterile room, slow and deliberate, like a heart beating outside of her own body.Her lips were cracked when she whispered, “Joel…”A familiar laugh cut through her haze. “Finally. Look who decided to wake up.”Elora turned her head weakly, her muscles screaming as if they’d forgotten how to move. Maya sat at her bedside, arms folded across her chest, her face creased with a mixture of relief and exasperation.“You’ve been in a coma for two months, Elora. Two months,” Maya said, leaning closer. “I nearly lost my mind waiting for you to open your stubborn eyes.”Elora blinked, confusion and panic threading through her. “Two months? No… no, that’s not possible. I was just—” She tried to sit up, but pain shot through her body, forcing her bac

The sharp scent of antiseptic burned her nose before her eyes opened. Beeping machines hummed in rhythm, their sounds crisp and foreign compared to the whisper of trees or the growl of wolves. For a moment, Elora lay still, her mind torn between dream and reality.When she finally blinked, the white ceiling above her swam into focus. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed softly, sterile and unyielding. She wasn’t in the cabin. She wasn’t in the forest. She wasn’t in Silverfang.She was in… Raven Ridge.“Elora?”The voice was soft, tentative, disbelieving. She turned her head slowly, and her breath caught. Standing at her bedside was Maya, her best friend, eyes swollen from crying but lit up with desperate relief. Behind her, two others hovered—Caleb and Iris, their faces pale, as though they were seeing a ghost.“Y-you’re awake,” Maya stammered, pressing a trembling hand to her lips. Then, unable to hold back, she rushed forward, grab

The world outside the cabin had grown eerily quiet, as if Silverfang itself was holding its breath. The forest that once buzzed with whispers of unseen spirits now seemed still, waiting, almost watching. Elora sat by the wooden window, staring out into the fading twilight. Her reflection on the glass looked ghostly—eyes shadowed by fatigue, lips pale, hair tangled. For the first time, she truly looked like what she was: a girl caught between two worlds, carrying a curse that was breaking her from the inside out.Joel had been silent for most of the day. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, his broad frame tense with the kind of restlessness that had no outlet. His wounds had healed faster than hers, but the ache in his chest had nothing to do with injuries. It was Elora. Always Elora.“You haven’t eaten all day,” Joel finally spoke, his voice low but rough, like gravel being dragged.Elora didn’t turn. “I’m not hungry.”“That’s not an

Ashes of the CurseThe curse has chosen its vessel. And soon… the vessel will break.The whisper rippled through the air like a living thing—soft, venomous, and cruel. Joel’s head snapped up, eyes scanning the darkness. Nothing moved. No footsteps, no breath, only the low hum of power that seemed to tremble beneath the earth.“Elora…” he murmured, his voice low and urgent. “Did you hear that?”Her eyelids fluttered open, lashes heavy with exhaustion. “Hear what?” she breathed weakly, her words barely audible.Joel’s grip tightened on her hand. “Voices. They’re close.”But Elora only shook her head, confusion clouding her silver eyes. “There’s nothing. It’s quiet.”He frowned, heart pounding harder. The forest was quiet—but not naturally so. It was the stillness of something waiting, watching. His instincts screamed at him to move, to run, to take her far from this place before the silence shattered.Then the ear

The forest had never felt so alive, and yet so suffocating. A thousand branches whispered above Elora’s head, the night wind carrying the scent of damp moss and forgotten blood. Every step she took seemed to echo back at her, as though the trees themselves were keeping count, reminding her of the fragile distance she still had left to walk before her fate caught up with her.Joel walked at her side, though slower now, his steps marked by a limp he tried to conceal. He had been wounded in the last confrontation with Kerric’s loyalists, but he said nothing of it. His silence carried the weight of his devotion, every ounce of his strength focused on making sure she kept moving forward. His hand brushed hers occasionally, a subtle reassurance, grounding her against the storm raging inside her.“Elora,” he finally murmured, voice rough like stones dragged across each other. “You’ve been too quiet.”Her lips parted, but no words came. What could she say? Th

The hum of Raven Ridge was both comforting and disorienting. Cars honked in the distance, neon lights flickered across damp sidewalks, and the chatter of humans filled the streets—ordinary life, loud and relentless. Yet for Elora, each sound was alien, too sharp, too alive, as though she had been thrust into a world that had moved on without her.It had been only three months. Three months since her friends had last seen her, three months since her name had flashed across missing-person posters plastered on telephone poles and store windows. But for Elora, it had been a lifetime. A lifetime of blood moons, curses, betrayals, and Joel’s final scream echoing in her mind.She walked past the corner café where she and Ava used to sneak in after school, the smell of roasted coffee beans curling around her like an embrace she didn’t deserve. People stared as she passed—her silver hair catching the glow of the streetlamps like a beacon. She tugged the hood of he

Cullen's povI kept replaying her words long after the environment went silent.“He’s alive.”That was all she gave me. Nothing more. No explanation. No name. No clue. She just shut down, locked herself behind that cold stubborn mask she wears when she wants to torture me.I tried to ask again on the walk back inside.What is alive, Séraphine? Who?But she didn’t look at me. It was like she’d folded into herself, protecting something I wasn’t allowed to see.By the time we reached the room, her silence was a wall I couldn’t break.I cleaned the cut on her hand even though she kept mumbling she was fine. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, like she was somewhere else. Somewhere dark.“Séraphine,” I tried again, softer this time. “Talk to me.”Nothing.Only the rise and fall of her breath.When I finished bandaging her, I told her to rest and started toward the door. That was when her fingers shot out and grabbed my wrist.“Don’t… leave.”Her voice cracked in a way that punched straight t

(Cullen's pov)The rogue landed in a crouch, hunched, trembling, eyes glowing a poison shade of red. His claws scraped the grounds.He wasn’t here for the pack.He was here for her.Seraphine.And he knew exactly where to look.Information spreads quickly.I stepped between them so fast my body ached.My wolf was already clawing under my skin, begging to burst through .“You’re bold,” I said, voice low. “Breaking into an Alpha’s territory”The rogue laughed — a broken, choking giggle.“I’m not here for you,what use does a fallen alpha has to offer us .”His gaze slid past me. Straight to Séraphine.Her breath hitched.It was small. But I heard it.I didn’t hold back.My body shifted halfway, muscles splitting, hands turning to sharp claws. I caught him mid-air and slammed him into the wall so hard dust rained from the ceiling. The rogue snarled and clawed at my arm. His nails dug into my skin, scraping bone, but I didn’t feel the pain. My wolf drowned it out with one command:Protect

Séraphine’s POVMy legs felt like they didn’t belong to me anymore. Everything was blurry—walls, faces, the ceiling light sliding across my vision as Cullen pulled me through the hallway. His grip was firm, almost bruising, but there was something shaky underneath it. Like he was holding onto me because letting go would break something inside him.He didn’t speak.He didn’t even look back at me.His shoulders were stiff, his breath sharp, and every guard we passed stepped out of the way immediately. The air around him was heavy—Alpha-heavy—the kind that made your instincts bow even if you didn’t want to.He pushed the infirmary door open with too much force and shut it behind us.“Sit down.”His voice carried a low growl beneath it.I stayed standing. “Cullen, I can walk. I’m fine.”He turned slowly. His eyes weren’t calm. They were storm-dark, the kind that warned you to tread softly.“You’re bleeding,” he said. “And shaking.”I swallowed. “I’m not.”He moved closer. His fingers brus

(SÉRAPHINE'S pov)He grinned as he dragged me forcefully away from the balcony.Cullen moved so fast the air trembled. I heard bones crack behind me—Cullen’s shift starting—but he hadn’t reached us yet.The rogue’s other hand slid behind my neck, pulling me close like he wanted Cullen to see.“Your father isn’t finished with you,” he whispered, voice shaking with madness.My blood stopped.He was lying.He had to be.My father was dead.I witnessed him dying.The rogue leaned closer, fingers tightening—Then he said it:“Your father left something behind. And I’m here to take you to him.”Everything inside me froze.Cullen roared behind us, the shift exploding through him—And the rogue dragged me back toward the stairs.(Cullen's pov)The shift tore through me before my mind caught up. Muscles cracked, form changed ,heat flooded my skin until fur burst through. My vision sharpened, tunneling straight to the rogue’s hand clamped around Séraphine’s wrist.He was dragging her backward d

(Séraphine’s POV)I noticed something was off the moment I stepped into the west hallway with Cullen dragging me with him as if I stole something precious to him.The air felt tight, like everyone was holding their breath. Guards were moving fast, whispering into their earpieces. Boots hitting the floor. Doors opening and closing with force.Chaos was all around.Something was happening outside and It wasn't the good type, everyone around was tensed.I drifted closer to the balcony rail, staying where the shadows covered me and couldn't be easily seen,as Cullen instructed me to.A cluster of guards were dragging a man across the yard. He was filthy, scraped up, and breathing like he had been running for hours.He was like an escaped prisoner or something.A rogue probably.My stomach flipped when I saw the familiar tattoo stretched across his arm.He wasn’t just any rogue. He belonged to my father’s old pack.He jerked against the guards and lifted his head.His eyes locked onto the b

(Séraphine’s POV)The pack house felt different tonight. It was quiet unlike usual where young cubs are seen playing around.Maybe it was me. Maybe it was Cullen’s eyes still burning on my skin from earlier.The tension between us is clearly in deniable.I had to push my feelings aside if my plan was going to work. I slipped down the hallway. I needed information, and the guards were the easiest to distract. Not with my body even though that was a factor— only with confidence, presence, and the right amount of curiosity.Two guards stood near the training room door. They straightened the moment they saw me,like they were trying to impress me or something.“Evening,” one of them said, trying too hard to look serious.The other one actually smiled. “You’re out late.”I kept my voice calm. “Couldn’t sleep.”That alone made them soften, almost like they wanted to protect me. Good. Let them think I was harmless.I asked them a question out of curiosity,“What happened to the old Alpha’s pr

Evelyn’s fingers brushed over the scrolls she had studied all day. The knowledge burned in her mind, a blazing thread of insight and warning. Each symbol, each word, had a weight that pressed against her skull, making sleep impossible. And yet, she had no desire to rest. Tonight was different. Tonight, the academy itself would test her.Lucien appeared first, stepping out of the shadows like he belonged to them. “You’re ready,” he said, voice low and smooth, eyes glinting amber in the dim moonlight. “Tonight, you will face the first trial. The academy chooses. You will either bend it to your will… or it will bend you.”Evelyn rose, her legs unsteady but her resolve firm. “I’m ready,” she whispered, though even she wasn’t certain she believed the words. The mark in her veins throbbed, a constant reminder that power demanded both caution and courage.Lucien led her through a labyrinth of hallways she had never noticed before. Shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally, forming patterns that

In the echo of the library confrontation, a heavy silence settled over Wind Grave Academy—one of those silences that presses on the skin, reminding everyone what had just happened. Evelyn’s body throbbed with a bone-deep ache she hadn’t expected. Channeling the mark, pulling the shadows the way she had… it left her drained and somehow charged at the same time. Her muscles trembled, but her mind refused to settle. Something had woken inside her—something powerful, something thrilling, something that scared her more than she wanted to admit.Lucien didn’t stray far. Minutes ago his presence had felt suffocating; now it wrapped around her with a strange, protective gravity. His amber eyes didn’t blink as he studied her, sharp and unreadable. “You pushed yourself harder than ever,” he said quietly. “And you held control. That’s… rare.”Evelyn let herself drop into the nearest armchair before her legs betrayed her. “I had to,” she whispered. “If I didn’t… I don’t even want to think about

The library smelled like parchment with a mix of raw magic. Evelyn’s pulse thundered in her ears as the shadows recoiled and surged around her, responding to the sudden eruption of power she had unleashed. Every fiber of her being hummed with an energy that was both frightening and intoxicating. She could feel the mark in her veins, throbbing, alive, demanding obedience and yet offering clarity in its own twisted way.Lucien’s presence was a dark anchor at her side, his shadows intertwining with hers, moving as one. He whispered her name under his breath, low and steady, grounding her amidst the chaos. “Control it,” he said. “Do not let fear dictate your power. Let it flow… but command it.”Elias moved with deliberate precision, stepping forward to shield her from the intruder’s strikes. His eyes, sharp as ever, were locked on the enemy, calculating angles, anticipating moves. But even as he fought, he kept one eye on Evelyn, reading every subtle twitch of her muscles, every flicker

The moon hung low over Wind Grave Academy, casting silver beams through the tall windows of the library. Evelyn could feel the pulse of the night outside, the quiet hum of the academy’s hidden corners, and the whispers of long-forgotten spirits that roamed its halls. Even in her victory with the Codex, she felt no relief. The power she had controlled today was only a fraction of what lingered within her, and she knew the true test had yet to come.Lucien stood nearby, leaning against a tall bookshelf. His amber eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, watching her with a careful, almost predatory patience. “You’re learning quickly,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “Faster than I expected, though not fast enough for what’s coming.”Evelyn turned to face him, her hand still hovering above the Codex. The shadows around her shifted subtly, a protective shimmer as though aware of the tension in the room. “I have to learn. I can feel the mark inside me… It’s… awake now. And I don’t know w

The library had quieted, though the air still thrummed with the echoes of Evelyn’s first real confrontation with the academy’s shadows. Her palms tingled from the energy that still lingered around her, the mark on her wrist pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat. Lucien’s cloak brushed the floor behind him as he moved closer, silent and graceful, every step precise, almost predatory.“You controlled them,” he murmured, his amber eyes flicking to hers with a mixture of awe and calculation. “You weren’t just reacting—you commanded.”Evelyn exhaled slowly, though her chest still felt tight. “I… I didn’t know I could,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. The power was intoxicating, yes, but terrifying. Every shadow she had directed toward the hunters had been guided by instinct, by survival—and by something more she couldn’t name.“Instinct,” Lucien said, tilting his head. “Yes… but also bloodline. That mark isn’t just a symbol. It’s alive. And it reacts to your will, but it al

The corridors of Wind Grave Academy were quieter now, but not safe. Every shadow seemed to stretch a little farther, every flicker of candlelight revealing shapes that weren’t entirely human. Evelyn moved with careful, deliberate steps, the weight of her recent awakening pressing down on her shoulders. The mark on her wrist pulsed faintly, a constant reminder that the power within her was no longer dormant—it demanded attention, focus, mastery.Lucien stayed close, silent but vigilant. His presence was at once comforting and unnerving. He didn’t speak, didn’t offer guidance, only moved as if he and the shadows themselves were in silent conversation. Elias followed a few steps behind, his eyes sharp, scanning every corner, every flicker of movement. He carried himself like a sentinel, unwavering, yet Evelyn could sense the restraint in his body—the careful balance between protection and suspicion.“I still don’t understand,” she murmured, her voice echoing softly off the stone walls. “