Blood King Novels & Stories

"Every drop of blood. Every moment of love. Every sacrifice. We would burn ourselves out to stop you." The king was silent. The ice cracked further. Then do it, he said. Show me what Marcus's hybrid can do. I raised the Kingslayer. The bond screamed. And we drove our blades into his heart. The light exploded. Gold, silver, blue—the colors of the bond, the colors of the first wolf, the colors of the bloodline. They poured into the king's body, burning away the ice, the shadow, the centuries of hunger. The king screamed—a sound that shook the cave, that shattered the carvings on the walls, that made my ears bleed.

I’d want to thank My Black Suit King’s readers. As you can see, this novel’s first season recently ended. The second season of this book will be published together with the original Indonesian novel. You will receive an updating notice for as long as this book in your library. Alternatively, you may search for my name, Blezzia. Feel free to look at this original novel with title “The King of Denver” to find out if the second season of the Indonesian book has begun.

His voice echoed in the hall loudly. (Kabul ke Maharana, Sultan Rafiq Sulaiman. Jesa ki humne aapse kaha tha ki Mahabaleshgarh ke Kal ko bachane ke badle hum aapki kuch bhi Hasrat poori kar paaye to badi khushi hogi. Kripya kuch maang ke Hume bojh tale halka kare) I looked at the tall, strongly built King wearing plain black Kurta with a black loincloth. His turban was fixed on his head proudly all in black.

Slightly, but still present. "No one gets harmed?" Mikaela asked again and shoved her empty plate away from her. I had long since stopped eating, a mess of food still on my plate. Julian nodded fast and looked her dead in the eyes. "I would never harm another living soul unless they provoke me or harm anyone I love. Unless there is an absolute need for it. They all do it willingly. Mostly higher ranking officials in governments." He admitted, Adam's apple bobbing. This man was a king. Not just any king. An all powerful vampire king. His subjects were beneath him, humans even further down the line. How could one man care so much? The thought drove me insane. My mind wandered off for a second

His eyes were a deep blue, like the night sky and he carried himself like a man in charge, fitting as he was the king after all. “Father. I would like you to meet Kara Ravenfield or Yarrow. Kara, this is my father Callan Horne, King of the dragons.” I stood up and looked up at the king, giving a respectful bow before holding my hand for him to shake and gripping it firmly while doing so. He looked me up and down, giving me an assessing look before he nodded once and smiled brightly.

The process where each graduand from each arm presented their skill or a mind turning project that won them a one year internship by the scouters that were invited. "Well that's because Jacob St. Laurent will be attending this one", he proffered, causing all the blood to drain out my face. "What?", I choked out, letting go of my spoon. Jacob St. Laurent was the only descendant of one of the pure blood families. The Royal pure blood family to be exact. Jacob St. Laurent without question, was the King of Vampires. And he was going to be at the selection. The selection I wasn't even remotely prepared for.

He couldn't afford to fail. *** Darkfire Grendel, one of the betas of the lycan king entered the king's private room, bowing low before his ruler. The room was dimly lit by a few flickering torches, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The king sat upon a large throne, carved from the bones of fallen enemies, his massive frame imposing and powerful. He wore a simple tunic of black leather, adorned with silver clasps and a thick fur cloak draped across his broad shoulders.

I asked the servant who was told to accompany me. “Oh, he is King Jackob Arkhan, Princess. It could be said that King Jackob Arkhan is the second strongest king in the world after King Alden and King Aldan. His land holdings became the most extensive, with wealth and captive packs even stretching from all corners of the world. So he was feared by the other Alpha Kings, and was known as the cold-blooded Alpha King.” Immediately the hairs on the back of my neck tingled completely when I heard that, Cold-blooded King was a truly terrifying term. I can imagine how many werewolf lives he had destroyed.

Elara was on her feet in seconds, blade drawn. Rhys sprinted ahead. “North watch!” Ten Iron Claw warriors were on the ground, their skin blackened, eyes melted. And above them, floating like a fever dream, was a man wrapped in shadowsteel robes, a gold crown fused to his skull. “The King.” They called. He didn’t speak. He only raised his hand and the trees behind them exploded with chaos and fame. Elara ducked as a branch whipped past her head. Lyra slammed into her, bleeding from the scalp.

And I told them word for word how the king described Drakon's possible end if he tried it again. The fear on their frozen faces would have been comical if it wasn't so valid. "I think—" Diane began, "we sometimes forget why he's also called the Infamous Hybrid King. 'Hybrid' and also a 'King,' Cassia. Just a regular vampire is crazy enough, then throw in a random werewolf, and we humans don't stand a chance."