A Prayer For The Crown-shy Novels & Stories

Damon drifts toward center ice and stops at the logo. I follow. For a moment, we stand where the game began. Where so much between us almost ended. “Funny,” he says. “All that fighting over who gets the crown.” “And?” He looks at me fully. “There was only ever one.” The words hang there. Not competitive. Not sharp. Certain. Only one crown. And it doesn’t belong to one king. The arena lights dim slightly as the crew prepares to clean up. I feel his hand brush mine. Not by accident.

He steps forward, bowing slightly, then extends a hand. I take it, feeling the electricity of our bond, the unspoken promise that this moment is ours. Mary leans close to me, whispering, “Go, Eva. Shine. This is your crown, your day.” I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. The hall is filled with our pack, allies, friends, and family. The music swells, flowers trail along the aisle, and the banners flutter above. Theo lifts the crown—crafted of silver and moonstones—and lowers it toward me.

I won't blame her because it's what I have thought also; somewhere in my heart, I wish and hope that Carter is rejected by the Moon goddess because I know what it holds. “We shouldn't talk like that, Brooke,” I reply, still holding onto her hand, while she nods slowly. I shift my attention back to what is happening at the front of the hall, the priestess who is holding the crown.. The crown, woven from rough, dark vines with sharp thorns, she holds carefully like an egg. It is rumored that if the crown falls, then the person will die a very painful death.. Looking at the crown, it isn't of glory or splendor but one of raw tradition and unspoken meaning.

The crown hovered above Nova's head. Its woven strands of moonlight shimmered softly, bathing the chamber in a gentle silver glow. No one spoke. Every Guardian had lowered their weapon. Even the Shadow Fangs watched in silence. The ancient prison itself seemed to be holding its breath. Nova looked up at the crown. It was beautiful. Yet she felt no desire to claim it. The Moon Goddess's final words echoed in her mind. "Only the one who refuses the crown is worthy to wear it."

Taking a breath, Brawen seemed to find it difficult to calm down. If God's Crown naturally disappears, there's nothing to worry about, but if it's stolen, I'm pretty sure, because how much god must that person be to be able to get the Divine Crown that is behind. Brawen that she did not know. Brawen glanced around. The Crown of God is created by Titania from eternal light, but around the royal palace is still bright as day and the flowers are still blooming and blooming, proving that the Crown God is still here, very Very close.

Was my love for him reason enough to justify endless sacrifice? Because I was meek and sensible, did that mean I had to yield over and over again? A sharp ache seized my heart, stealing my breath. At last, with trembling fingers, I picked up the pen that felt as heavy as a thousand pounds and signed my name. He pulled me into his arms, relieved. "Adam, don't worry. I won't let you down. Once this is over, I'll remarry you. You can stay here as before. Your identity will only change for a short while."

The council chamber smelled of incense and fear. Nobles lined the benches, jewels glittering against nervous hands. Whispers flooded the air, thick and poisonous. The Alph King wasn't present but his right handman who can also make decisions in his place was there. Xander wasn't present either, probably babysitting his slave mate. I stood tall in the center, my gown chosen deliberately...deep crimson, cut sharp, the color of blood spilled. I had not come to plead. I had come to strike. “My lords,” I began, my voice ringing clear. “You have heard the rumors, but let us strip away rumor and face truth. The crown prince has bound himself to a slave.”

'Until then, I trust no one. Elly--aka--Levara's gaze moved forward, the doors leading toward the Emperor's private wing were getting closer, her footsteps remained calm and elegant and her expression remained that of the beloved Crown Princess. But beneath that composed face, a single promise burned fiercely.

“The blood of the Primordial Queen has answered. But without the crown, the vault will seal itself again. If you don’t give it freely, the path will close and the shadow will find a way to take it. They will hunt you, and they will rip it from your brow while you breathe.” My heart hammered against my ribs. I could feel Kael’s gaze boring into the back of my head. I could feel the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. I looked up at the sky through the fissure in the ceiling, a crack of moonlight shining through the stone. I thought of Ella. I thought of Ronan. I thought of Rina, of Elara, of the fires and the fields and the wolves who had built a home out of nothing. I reached

Whatever noble refinement he had spent years cultivating shattered like cheap glass. Sebastian let out a short, contemptuous laugh. His polished, hand-made leather shoe came down, pinning Lorenzo’s palm to the floor with agonizing precision. "The head of the family? Lorenzo, you seem to have forgotten who anointed you to that seat. In this city, what I bestow, I can reclaim whenever I please." Pinned and helpless, Lorenzo twisted his head, staring up at me with eyes saturated in pure venom. "Joanna, you make me sick. I can't believe how fast you crawled into the Don’s bed."