Novel & Cerita Bitter Queen

A strange, sharp ache hits my chest. "Do you know me?" I demand, looking from Novalee to the tallest man by the door. "Any of you?" "You are Betty," Novalee says, her voice too loud, too deliberate. "You are the Lycan Queen. You belong to Prince Adriel and Prince Mitchell. You are their mate." "Their what?" I squint at her. "Lycan? Like the monsters in the old films? The things that rip people to pieces in the woods?"

I looked at my phone. Whether it be the live stream or the online comments, everything was completely reversed in an instant. [That brought tears to my eyes! Those heroes sacrificed so much! They deserve our respect!] [Eve Green, we misunderstood you. Thank you!] A shrill voice cut through jarringly. "Even if this is true, it doesn't erase the fact that Eve's family's company released toxic cosmetics to harm the public!" I looked at Jenny, whose face was twisted with obsession. I sighed. She completely lost it. Even at that point, she was still making her final, desperate struggle.

he whispered. “No,” she replied. “We did it.” Later, when the sun rose and the summit was formally concluded, Elira stood once more at Lucien’s side. This time, when the council was asked to approve her coronation as queen, not a single voice dissented. She had faced fire, betrayal, poison, and war. And she had walked through it all. Not untouched. But unbroken. ---

Binta. I can’t believe he’s capable of doing this to me. He prefers that bitch to me. I’m going to make him regret picking that ugly beast over me. Who cares if he’s my king? I’m going to make him suffer. I am stunning, and the queen has personally picked me to be his mate. I’m meant to be by his side. How could she steal my partner? How dare she take what is rightfully mine? I will make her regret coming to my kingdom. Everyone knows I’m his mate. They are all waiting for the day I will be proclaimed queen of this realm, yet he has the audacity to reject me.

“But if the next cursed creature tries to eat me, you’re buying me dinner first.” Barbie cackled. “Oh, I like her.” We pressed on, deeper into the pass. The fog thickened, and faint whispers slithered through it—voices that weren’t quite real. “Betrayers… sinners… killers of blood…” I clenched my fists. My ears rang. The Queen’s curse—alive, crawling into my mind like a parasite. For a second, I saw flashes—dead forests, burning cities, the Queen’s pale face smiling through blood.

she asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "Did they accept your tantrum, or did they remind you of the truth?" "The truth?" I repeated, my brow furrowing. "The truth that I am barren, Soren," she snapped, pulling her hands out of my grip with a sudden, forceful jerk. She stood up, looking down at me with an expression of pure, unyielding bitterness. "Did they remind you that your precious bloodline ends with me? Did they tell you that a Queen who cannot produce an Alpha heir is completely useless to the Obsidian Claw Pack?"

Her knees buckled from the hours of confinement, but she forced herself to stand upright, keeping her hands tucked submissively into her voluminous sleeves. Through the blurred pattern of her veil, she saw the hierarchy of the Midnight Pack on full display. Dozens of warriors stood in silent, rigid rows, their chests broad and their eyes glowing with a terrifying, predatory curiosity. At the front of the courtyard stood Alpha Torin. He had dismounted his stallion, his heavy fur cloak dusted with snow. He looked massive, a king of the frost, his sharp jawline set in a grim, unyielding line. His golden eyes locked onto Eva’s veiled form the moment her feet touched the ground. His nostrils flar

happy tears flowed down his face, "We thought... It's been so long since we've heard from you." David told him everything that had happened. They chatted, catching up on lost time, and David briefed Raphael on the impending battle. Soon, Queen Bithia joined the conversation, her voice filled with joy and relief at seeing David alive and well. Queen Bithia, much like Raven, was a strong and regal figure, leading her own harem of twenty mates, with Raphael by her side as her King and powerhouse.

She herself felt weird with how she sounded like so she cleared her throat and snapped at him. "You just popped my cherry. Of course, it hurt. But I believe you can make it feel better, can you?" She challenged him. Though in the midst of carnal pleasure, her sassy self isn't totally gone. She just never thought there would actually be someone to bully her like this. She? The Queen of Bullies is "Being Bullied"?! No one would have ever imagined it. Yet here she is, lifted to the seventh heaven of pure bliss just to be dropped down like a hot potato falling into the eighteenth layer of hell in pain. But she knew, anatomically speaking, it was just because it was her first time.

another answered. A pause. Then, quieter—closer now, almost thoughtful: “Look at the wounds.” Fabric shifted. Hands moved—not rough, not gentle either. Efficient. Her sleeve was pulled back just enough to expose torn flesh beneath, the bite marks jagged and deep, edges darkened with drying blood. One of them exhaled softly. Not shock. Recognition. “That’s not clean.” “No,” the second voice agreed. “It’s not controlled.” “Unstable?” “Has to be.”