Baby Tyrant Webnovel Novels & Stories

I touched the edge of the bruise gently with my thumb, my eyes burning with absolute dominance. "I'm a tyrant, sweetheart," I rasped, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "When you walk into that war room today to tear the south apart, every single elder will look at your neck and know exactly whose heat kept you warm last night. Tristan threw away a queen. I'm keeping her."

Avo suggested, with that old diary in his hand. "And why is that so?" "Because of this, this is the part of the prophecy that we have had." Avo handed me an old paper. "It is not the same, but it does have some common parts with what she told us." When the moon meets the dark son A new lease of power will be undone. Sin and pain will birth another blessed one. First, Lycan will be the tyrant known to all and one. Unparalleled in strength to all and none.

Once upon a time, in a far-off land, there was a powerful Lycan King named Alpha Jerri Bullet. He was feared by all, for his cruelty and merciless ways knew no bounds. Jerri was known to enslave humans and werewolves alike, using them for his pleasure and as soldiers in his army. Under his reign, the land had become a place of fear and oppression. But despite his tyranny, there were those who still dared to resist him. Those who were ready to go down, and be totally free from his torments.

Yawning, I lay down as I let sleep take my tired body over again, trying to forget this horrible day in my life. *** I start to drift into my peaceful dreams where I have built a different world for myself that gives me hope for the future. I have a Bampire mate, and we will try to breed a little one of our own. We can live happily, and our baby Bampire can grow into a strong warrior with honor and respect.

TYLER "You're a what?" I gasped looking at her teary eyes in disbelief. "I'm a healer." "For real?" She nodded. "Why didn't you tell anyone, Like Jeez! You possess such a unique quality as a Queen, the Packs will worship your feet literally." "I don't want that Tyler." "Why? It doesn't make sense that you let Tyson treat you like trash when you have a divine power within you but that still doesn't explain why you were in the king's chambers."

I raise my eyes to his, his grip tightened on my jaw. “Camilla,” I said. His smirk deepened. “A nice name… for a pretty doll.” Then his hand left me, and only then did I realize I was shaking all over, my knees weak, my lungs heavy like stone. I had tried to show him I wasn’t scared, but he saw through me. He saw everything. Who wouldn’t fear him? Alpha Lennox Steele. The Pack Slayer, one of the many names the people had given him, The Tyrant. The man who turned villages into ash and left bones for wolves to gnaw. The one mothers whispered about in the dark to keep their children silent.

“The crowning flame knows no years, The crowning flame knows no tears. The crowned is one with a soul so bright, Plunged in a curse to douse every speck of light. For your wolves’ great fortune, you shall bear the bane, Misfortune, misery, an eternal chain.” The crowning flame knew no years. It had chosen a ten-year-old unshifted pup to be the Alpha Naturale. The crowning flame knew no tears. It forced the pup to grow up too fast and take over the pack completely at the age of sixteen. And the curse? As if her life wasn’t cursed enough! Misfortune and misery were her constant companions.

How much more does she want? This is ridiculous he has a house he could have taken her in. Is he doing this out here just to bother me? Why is my tyrant having sex with some whore bothering me? As much as I hate for him to know this bothers me and that I'm out here I can't watch this any longer. Slowly standing up his eyes dart to meet mine. I guess I'm not as stealthy as I had hoped. Rolling my eyes at the smirk on his face trying to hide the hurt in my eyes I turn and go inside slamming and locking my door. I just can't win!

Or maybe… my eyes looked like his. He bent down slightly so we were at the same level. “I’m Victor.” His voice was low and deep, but not harsh. I didn’t answer. He studied me for a moment longer, then the corner of his lips lifted again. “From now on, you belong to me.” I didn’t like that sentence. “I don’t belong to anyone, Uncle.” I am not an object. I am not a painting. I am Nicholas. And I belong to Mom. I looked back at him with the same gaze I had learned from Mom whenever she was angry at the world.

"Oh, sister-selves, you have no idea what you're up against. I've tasted the Primordial's true power—not the scraps and fragments you've all been playing with, but the real thing. I've let it hollow me out and fill me up again, and it was *glorious*." The others shift, recognizing the threat, but the Tyrant-me just smiles. "Funny thing about power," she says, and suddenly the temperature drops twenty degrees, "I actually won our war. Completely. Utterly. The Primordial is nothing but ash in my timeline—along with everything else." The words hit like physical blows, and I feel my stomach drop. She continues, her voice soft as poisoned silk: "Seven billion corpses make an excellent foundation