All Chapters of The Tattooed Queen: Claimed By The Mad King: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

❤️ The Enemy of My Enemy ❤️Prince Darius wanted to ask so many more questions. His mind was spinning out of control, filled with frantic, scattered thoughts that he could barely keep up with. He wanted to ask if Draevon being the last living dragon meant that Miraeve was a dragon too. Or did she have a completely different kind of beast inside her, seeing as she was royal Khyrador blood? Did she have burning dragon fire flowing through her veins? Could she breathe flames if she really wanted to? Could she erase entire kingdoms with a single breath just like her massive brother? The questions were burning in his throat, itching to spill out.​But his father didn't give him the chance. King Aldric just held up one hand and made a sharp gesture, waving him away. It was a lazy, tired motion, treating Darius like he was nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing around his head.​Darius opened his mouth to argue right then and there. He wanted to demand answers. He wanted to shout at his f

❤️ The Jealous Mate ❤️Prince Zaerath stared back at his father, his blood boiling in his veins. His red eyes were blazing with pure fury and deep frustration. His hands were curled tight into hard fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. His whole body was shaking, trembling with a rage that he could barely keep under control.​"You want me to describe her?" Zaerath barked, his voice rising louder with every single word. "You want me to sit here and tell you what her face looked like? Is that really all you care about right now? Is that what you want to know from me? Instead of helping me unlock the beast trapped inside my chest, instead of giving me the power I need to rip her apart and destroy her, you are standing there asking for a description of her features?"​King Azrael's face did not shift at all. His expression remained hard, cold, and completely unreadable, looking like solid stone carved out over centuries of sitting on a throne.​"Yes," the king said simply,

❤️ Shattered Delusions ❤️Liana's face was still burning from the slap. The raw heat radiated from her cheek in hot waves, spreading right down her neck and straight across her chest. A deep red handprint had already settled into her pale skin, a bright mark of pure humiliation that she couldn't hide. Her broken wrist had fixed itself completely by now, the shattered bones knitting back together with a faint, itchy warmth that had faded away within minutes. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the deep shame burning inside her. The embarrassment. The wild, hot fury that was building up in her chest like a volcano about to blow, ready to destroy everything around her.​She watched Draevon turn his back on her without a care. He started walking casually toward the throne room doors. Toward the exit. Toward freedom. Toward wherever that crazy, tattooed female had run off to. His steps were slow, heavy, and steady, treating Liana like she was nothing more than a little bug he had

❤️ The Golden Secret ❤️​IronBlood Kingdom:​King Malgron's Hidden Chamber:​The room was small and cramped, carved out of the bedrock beneath the palace centuries ago by hands that had long since turned to dust. The air down here was thick and stale, carrying the heavy scent of damp earth and old rock that clung to the back of the throat. The walls were rough and uneven, the ceiling low enough that Malgron had to duck his head slightly as he paced back and forth. The only light came from a few flickering torches mounted in iron brackets, their flames casting dancing shadows across the stone and making the dim space feel even smaller.​And in the center of the room, standing on a raised pedestal, was the statue.​It was a woman. A beautiful woman, frozen in gold, her face forever captured in an expression of serene grace. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her head tilted slightly to one side, her eyes closed as if she were sleeping. The gold had been poured with such care that e

❤️ Only You (2) ❤️​Kaelithra walked through the stone hallways of the palace with her jaw set and her eyes fixed straight ahead. Her footsteps were fast and heavy, each heel strike ringing out in the quiet space. Her hands were tight fists at her sides, her whole body rigid with an anger she could barely keep under control.​Behind her, Draevon was trying to keep up.​"Kaelithra! Kaelithra, stop. Just wait a second and hear me out!"​She did not slow down. She did not look back. She kept her chin up, focusing on the sunlit archway at the end of the hall.​Draevon closed the distance between them with his longer stride. He reached out and caught her by the forearm, trying to turn her toward him.​"Listen to me," he said, breathing hard. "Liana means nothing. There is nothing between us. She is just the tailor's daughter. She has been trying to get close to me for years, but I have never encouraged her. I never gave her any reason to think—"​Kaelithra yanked her arm out of his grip wi