A Prayer For The Crown-shy Novels & Stories

Thousands of loyal wolves from every allied pack stand in hushed silence as the ancient elders step forward, lifting the heavy, gleaming Eternal Silver Crown and placing it firmly upon my head. The atmosphere is charged with a profound, reverent awe that commands absolute stillness across the entire summit. The crown, forged from the purest starlight-infused metal of the first vault, hums with a familiar, comforting resonance against my brow, anchoring my spirit to the collective heartbeat of our united people.

He yells, his voice booming throughout the canyon. I tighten my hilt on the grip of the scarlet sword, go down on my knees, and let my mind relax. Then I recited one thing that struck my mind. "Our dear heavenly Father," I prayed. I don't know what pushed me, but I just felt this sudden urge to pray. Even though I could hear the loud roaring of the lads as they came descending on me like an insect, I didn't let that disturb my mind or the prayer I was reciting. "Hallow be unto your holy name," I continue again. "Let your kingdom come, and let it reign here on earth. Please, grant me the power and ability to defeat this being. Lift me high above them and send me an unexpected miracle so I can

The one who had arrived was no mere envoy, but the ruler of the entire werewolf kingdom, the White Wolf Alpha King himself. Alexander and the elders hurried down from the platform, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty." "At ease." Father's voice carried across the square, steady and commanding. Then, he stepped aside, revealing the figure behind him. A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Alexander's eyes widened as his gaze locked onto me. I showed up in full ceremonial dress, but what I wore was not the dark-patterned Luna gown of the Greystone pack. Instead, I wore a robe of brilliant silver-white, the attire of a princess of the White Wolf royalty.

His usual serious expression was etched deeper than usual—though he stole a few glances in her direction, still unsure of what had caused the cold shoulder. King Asher approached them with a calm but firm smile. “Safe journey, Prince Xavier, Princess Tara, and Princess Sienna. Greta’s gates remain open to our allies. Let us meet again soon, Prince Xavier, for the upcoming battle.” “We are grateful, King Asher,” Xavier replied. “As agreed, I’ll be back when the time comes.” “And Princess Tara,” the king added with a slight grin, “your scented candles are already a legend. Our kingdom eagerly awaits more.”

Not here. He removed his hands from the bowl and stepped back. The high priestess placed the bowl on the floor where she poured water initially, and she started chanting in old tongue. The whole room was tense, and after what felt like eternity, the bowl lit up in a soft white, unmistakable glow. I didn’t know what it meant, but the look of horror on Jeremy’s face told me everything I needed to know.

Harlow, you've got family calling. Downstairs, there he was, Bennett, all dapper in a tailor-made suit, clutching a bouquet like some twisted Romeo. Behind me, my father sat in his wheelchair, his hospital attire hidden beneath a sharp, custom-made suit, his hair perfectly combed. He called out to the crowd, "This is my daughter, the Harlow family's Principessa. Today's her birthday, and her fiancé, the Marshall family's head honcho, is here to whisk her away!"

she countered. “If you want to win the crown, you have to work hard like the other girls. There's no shortcut in becoming the Luna Queen,” Came his passive reply. “Is that why you have scars all over your body, your pack wants you to win badly that they don't care about hurting their own,”

"Worry not, dear. I will not touch even a millimeter of you." "Perfect, then." I made my way out of the room. "I shall leave it to the Gods to strike you with lightning if ever you put a hand on me." He led me up the stairs, raising a brow. "Is that a threat?" “Merely a prayer.” The crown prince laughed lightly, whether he found my words just a jest or he was mocking me as he knew the Gods wouldn’t do such a thing as to hurt their blessed child. "I like your humor."

They mourned him and continue to do so. Someone had to take over now that the King was gone, and the young Crown Prince is doing an excellent job of carrying on his father's legacy. He's skilled at making snap decisions, and he's a natural leader. Not to mention that he's quite attractive. Anastasia isn't the only girl in the kingdom who fantasizes about him. When she sees him pass by, she can't help but steal a glimpse at him. If word gets out that she secretly admires the Prince, she'll most likely be beaten to death, but who can blame her? Despite the fact that he is rumored to be engaged, Anastasia smiles sheepishly whenever his name is mentioned. Even if he isn't enganged, a maid and a

Following the unfortunate demise of the esteemed and venerable Archbishop, he ascended to the esteemed position of the newly appointed Archbishop. Not only did he possess the formidable power and authority befitting the esteemed position of the Archbishop, but he also ascended to the esteemed role of the private tutor to the King, thereby acquiring the influential and commanding status akin to that of an Imperial Teacher. As the season of autumn gradually progresses, King Alexander finds himself experiencing a growing sense of physical discomfort, prompting him to discreetly request the presence of the esteemed Archbishop within the confines of the regal palace on multiple occasions. The con