All Chapters of ROYAL BLOOD: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Hamstung: Slaver's BayThe sun rose early in the morning, its golden glow slowly pushing through the horizon, yet the clouds above still lingered in darkness, unwilling to give way. The air was cool and damp, filled with the quiet hush that always precedes full dawn. Prator stepped out on his wooden deck, arms stretched out as he let out a long yawn, stretching his arms high above his head. The movement pulled the fabric of his shirt upward, bunching it around his ribs. For a brief moment, the morning light caught the lean lines of his masculine stomach, the muscles tightening as he arched his back. It was early in the morning; some of his men were still asleep, and there was no sign of anyone on the lonely paths. Prator was the highest-ranking officer; he was a masculine man with thick dark hair and grey eyes, and his voice was deep and commanding. Veins stretched on his hands and neck, lining his muscles from within his skin.There was a birthmark on the upper part of his left h

Like any other hot afternoon, Berth was seated on her bed with a needle in her hand, making beautiful patterns on her clothes. Her blue eyes were fixed on what she was doing, but she had long zoned out in a whirlwind of thoughts. After finding out what people thought of her three days ago, she had tried to ignore their vile words and the humiliation her husband was facing, but she just couldn't. How could she? She was his wife, and even though she had no feelings towards him, she wanted to thrive to live up to his reputation. The pace at which Berth was sewing gradually increased as she was lost in her train of thoughts.The needle working in and out of the clothes suddenly dove into her thumb, and she hissed, jolting back to reality. She lowered her gaze and saw that her thumb was bleeding; she kept the needle aside, then sighed.Obviously all odds were against her; she had to do something, or else she won't be getting her peace of mind anytime soon."Marymanda! Berth called out

Decreash Imperial Palace The castle was quite tense today. Ragaleon was in a terrible mood and had suddenly decided that the whole royal family will be going to the Kingswoods.The servants were trying their best to hasten the preparations, getting all the game sets ready and preparing the royal carriage; everywhere was simply chaotic.This was the atmosphere that greeted Micah when she stepped out of her chamber. She was dressed in a yellow sleeveless gown; it had a V-neck, and the collars were sharp.Some part of her cleavage was in view, compressed by the tight crochet underneath the dress. Her dark wavy hair was pinned in a low bun, her thick brows darkened with some charcoal powder. Micah was apparently not aware of Ragaleon's latest orders. She was in a world of her own; in her hand was a book, and she was making her way to the garden but couldn't help but take notice of the glaring sight playing before her.The servants were carrying heavy bags filled with arrows, swords, a

The atmosphere was tense as both knights stood a distance apart, mounted firmly upon their steeds, the weight of silence pressing on the crowd. Each held his sword, the steel of the sword gleaming beneath the reflection of the sun. All eyes were fixed upon the combatants, waiting for the signal that would unleash the duel. Finally a loud horn pierced the air.The swords collided, the first strike shuddering through the arena like thunder. The knights pressed forward on their horses, and the crowd erupted in cheers, their voices swelling into a roar that shook the air. Micah seemed restless, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, though she tried to hide the tremor in her fingers. So many thoughts tumbled through her mind. "What would people whisper if her chosen knight faltered?What shame would wash over her if he fell in the dirt before all gathered eyes? Already, she could sense the weight of noble gazes upon her, measuring her confidence, her choice, her very heart. She pres

Galvestone Imperial Palace The heavy wind moved through the palace grounds, stirring the silence of dawn. Branches swayed and shivered beneath its touch, some bending low until their leaves brushed the damp earth. The flowers in the gardens bowed beneath them, their fragile stalks trembling as petals shook loose and drifted into the air. The first droplets of the rain fell in a hush, striking the dust of the courtyard and breaking it into darkened spots, each circle spreading slowly until the ground softened. Soon the rain deepened, releasing that familiar scent of wet soil.The castle was terribly quiet except for the ecstatic moans coming from Kyron's bedroom.His wife, Wimma, was underneath him, moving to the rhythm of his thrust. She moaned softly, pinching her swollen breast, her legs clasped tightly as Kyron increased his pace. "Ohh, ugh!She cried out, already filling, her climax approaching. Kyron slammed into her with full force, diving into her core; he groaned in ple