Blades Of The Fallen Prince Novels & Stories

Celine didn’t answer as she stood frozen in her spot, probably of fear, having never seen Ashton this furious either, nor has she seen him using any of his powers as he usually did his best to keep himself controlled. “I asked a question…” Ashton said this time pushing the blade on the side of her neck making a cut, Celine cried out in pain, but Ashton didn’t budge or flinch. “YES! You’ve made yourself clear” she said managing to keep eye contact though I could see blood pouring from the cut he made, I looked at Grace who was looking at her mate with pride in her eyes, not even frightened of what he was doing, she raised her hand for me to stay in place and not interfere, trusting her word,

The atmosphere was unpleasant, 'War' he thought. He could only hear the sounds of screams, roars and cries. The dusted clouded the princes vision but he still had stamina left. The minotaurs just kept coming. Distracted in a fight, the prince got knocked from behind and stumbled on the floor. Two minotaur ganged up on him. Daerason appeared behind them and sliced through him with a new blade he had gotten made of crystals and diamonds. He sliced a minotaurs arm off then went to the next. He was panting, but the battle seemed to be in their favour. The Dornish men were overpowering the beasts. He stood there trying to catch his breath then found Daerason aiming at him with a spear made of mag

“MAKE WAY!” The Skyblade Warriors marched in, their black armor gleaming under the light. The crowd immediately went silent, parting to clear a path down the aisle. But Prince Draven wasn't walking between them. Instead, a warrior stepped forward, holding a massive and terrifying blade. The steel was dark with silver markings. The warrior stopped before the altar, bowing a little to the King before turning to the seer. "The commander has sent his sword to represent him in the binding." the warrior's deep voice echoed through the silent hall.

Then Athelwulf said, “I am sorry for failing you.” Troy’s left eye twitched slightly, but otherwise his face was completely impassive. He nodded. The sun caught the gleaming metal as the princes raised their knives, and five silver blades disappeared into the throats of five kings.

First prince mumbled and fell on his knees right beside the fallen Princess Sophia. With tears in his eyes, he looked up at Alex and smirked " You! You bloomed even among the strongest storm and your glory is known all around now, huh? But I want you to know something, I, Wills, will not go down alone!" He shouted and flew into the air with his sword held perfectly in his hand and ready to strike Alex. " Uhhh!" Everyone in the room gasped! Alex was ready to dodge the strike but the strike never came and there he was, The first prince was frozen in the air while his mouth dripped blood and his shirt was turning red by the second!.

He is only a couple of hours from the Main Kingdom Den, so even with the Princess’ order pulling him to return he continues to indulge himself with the young dominant female warrior over and over again until he is fully sated and she is battered, bruised and passed out on the breeding furs. Blade gets to his feet, walks into the small shower off to the side, turns on the water and washes, ridding his body of the sweat and blood of the dominant female warrior’s first time. Once clean he turned off the water stepped out and dressed, he had half the mind to ignore the Princess's request to return and continue his servicing of the dominant female warrior, however, the longer he fought the comman

Limbs, heads, and other body parts came flying up into the air as his wings seemed to slice into anyone that it passes. Screams, roars, and shouting echoed along with the sounds of metal bashing and clanking at one another as the battle began. Several of the white warriors tried mobbing the prince but was easily repelled when he began slashing his broad sword at them. The Draconian prince's eyes glowed red as he rebelled at this fine battle, savoring each and every slash and stab that he would give and receive, laughing as he could feel the cold, sharp touch of the weapons that were trying to graze him, sadly to no avail.

Crescent Blade. A famous blade passed down through centuries… Prince’s gaze locked onto it. “What is that?” Her voice softened. “Something older than the packs and any of us..” She stepped toward him, holding it carefully. “Something they buried.” “Something they feared.” The air around it felt heavier. “This blade doesn’t just kill,” she continued. “It rewrites.” Prince’s eyes narrowed slightly. She stopped in front of him as they were close now. “Stab it through your heart,” she said quietly.

"She's mine!" Our dance of blades continued, a fierce confrontation against the backdrop of chaos. The shadows cast by the skeletal roots around us seemed to writhe and shake in response to our ear splitting clash. Each movement carried the weight of days spent with wretched heartache and pain. Of the emptiness. Of the deep-seated expression of the storm raging within me. The echoes of our duel blended with the haunting whispers of the dead forest. "Too slow," she taunted. "Too weak. Riding on emotions is going to make you lose, Prince."