13 Crowns Novels & Stories

By the time they released me in the foyer, tears were burning my eyes. The front doors opened before I reached them. Dante, Luca, and Bianca had returned. Bianca held up a diamond hair clip that glittered beneath the chandelier. “I still can’t believe something this small cost thirty thousand dollars.” Dante laughed. “If you love it, the price doesn’t matter.” “Besides,” Luca added, “your mother gave you the black card for your college wardrobe. You’re supposed to use it.” Thirty thousand dollars. More than I could earn in months of working at the café.

It felt like a sanctuary. Yet in the center of my desk, sitting atop a clean sheet of glass, rested the small, hand-carved black queen. It wasn't made of plastic or ordinary wood. Up close, under the magnifying lamp Daniel used to examine old game score sheets, you could see the fine grain of dark African ebony. The crown was carved with microscopic detail: eight tiny fleur-de-lis, each point tipped with a minute, unpolished garnet that caught the morning light like dried droplets of blood.

The crown is a broad band that circles his head with six short points, each with an oval cabochon of onyx surrounded by small square cut emeralds set in the broad part near the band. He looks every inch the King he is, and again seems unable to control his jaw. She rolls her eyes at him, and Greyson hands her to him and she taps his jaw gently. He closes it and gives her a crooked smile, he lets his eyes drag over her slowly, and she sighs, “Yes, George. I know how good I look. Just rein it in a little, would you?” He smiles, and kisses her temple softly,

“And she’s all ours. Here we come, Manhattan.” “What do you think of Desmond and Shawn’s crowns? I had them custom-made so no one doubts we are all together,” Brandon says. His eyes darken as he stares at me possessively, then glances at Desmond and Shawn. I shiver in response, my cheeks warming up a bit. “They’re nice,” I say, taking a good look at Desmond and Shawn’s slimmer but still beautiful golden crowns. Desmond chuckles. “We’ll wear them with pride.”

The crowns were beautiful; they were the same; there was no difference between the crowns. The crowns were also unique; everyone’s crown was either gold or silver, but this one was gold with rubies, emeralds, and lovely-looking gemstones on it. The crown was elegant and powerful. Jane has never done this for anyone; does she have a personal connection with any of them? Nobody knows her family or background; they just all know she is a witch and the leader of the pillars.

he breathed into her ear before capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. He pulled away, grasping Klara around her waist. “We have joined in Mateship, now we have joined in rank. What say you?” Marc addressed the crowd. Klara tried to remember who it was that was in the room during the coronation. It was higher level wolves, she remembered that much. “Here, here!” A voice called, soon to be followed by all in the room. Marc guided her back to her own throne as he sat in his. Their hands still clasped in one another’s.

Her mannerisms and eyes, however, portrayed someone ancient. On top of her head, nestled in that fiery sea of her hair, sat what looked like a crown. The frame of it was made entirely out of thin gold strings, some of which being entirely encrusted with tiny crystals. In the very middle of the crown a large crystal, followed by 4 smaller ones evenly distributed on each side of it, sparkled in between fragile looking golden branches that were playfully intertwining all over it to make the body of the crown. It looked like a carefully made woodland piece, and even though it looked fragile and feminine, Shaylin could tell it exuded power, unable to stop staring at it for some reason. This woman

"Doris said she'd like to treat you to a meal. I don't know if you'd be willing." "Of course I would." … Three months later, a new banner hung at the entrance of the State Automobile Museum—"An Original Imported Toyota Crown from the '90s: A Tribute to a Classic". Inside the exhibition hall, the old Toyota Crown was displayed in the most prominent position. The paint had been given a fresh coat of wax, but not with any new formula. It was a specialized maintenance wax for vintage cars. Matthew had mixed it himself. He said such luster couldn't be bought with money. It could only come from years of care.

35. Friends Astrid's POV: I stood in awe, finding a cupboard filled with dazzling crowns. Different parts were packed with exquisite crows, each one unique in its own way. I whirled around, my eyes wide, feeling as if I were in a dream or a high-end jewelry store. "What are these?" I asked. "Crowns, duh!" he said sarcastically. "Yes, I know, but why so many?" I asked. It seemed like he had an obsession with crowns, much like my obsession with shoes. In the past, no number of shoes was ever enough for me. I think he wanted me to choose one now, but I was confused and didn't know how to respond.

Mission accepted. My jewellery is onyx and silver, dark and glossy against my skin. Finally, Mum places the black crown gently on my head. It’s made of delicate metal vines and onyx stones, shaped to look like it grew right out of the shadows. And it completes me. I don’t just look like a queen—I look like his queen. “You’re absolutely stunning,” Mum says, adjusting the crown like she’s placing it on actual royalty. “Caden’s going to pass out.” “Good,” I smirk. “Let the man suffer.”