Blue Rose Knight Novels & Stories

“That’s how you survived. The Moonrose. Tell me—what does it actually do?” He gave a dry chuckle, pride bleeding through his ancient voice. “The roses come in pairs. I have the white one. Kiran has the black—far more powerful, but dangerous. Like soulmates, these roses are bound. Mine has kept me alive. More than that—I am the rose now. I don’t just use its power. I am its vessel.” Without another word, I unsheathed my blade and sliced my palm. Blood welled and dripped into the ceremonial bowl. Rhaegos, resigned, did the same. Our blood swirled together—ancient, powerful, defiant.

Adir place the hair on Castus palm " You're my friend and that's hard to be" "You're saying all of this because you don't know what happened,the Dotedrins killed a lot of witches back then,they thought they'd the supreme power over everything"Castus exhale tired of repeating himself"The hair is blue" "Blue?are you sure it's blue?" " Yes, it's color..."Castus pause. "Your dream" "The girl hair is also blue now don't tell me this is a coincidence" " It is but you didn't even see the girl face because it's blurry"Castus utter " I know it's rare for someone to have a natural blue hair but..."

"That is understood, Princess. Your brother will guide you, and the senior members of the council. You shall be tutored in every state, protocol and diplomacy. I breathed out gradually, with relief and anxiety. Training would be well, but the experience that danger might fall at any moment still caused my breast to contract. When the meeting was over Rowan took me back to the royal hall, and touched me in the small of the back with his hand, showing that he supported me. The rays of the sun penetrating through the stained-glass windows caught the gold embroidery on his robe and made him appear taller and more commanding than I had recalled. I guess you want to know about the knight, he said,

He kisses her on the top of her head, the morning version of a gesture that has a hundred versions now, and each one is its own thing, and takes the coffee from her hand, and they stand at the window together watching the September Begur morning become what it is. Rosa arrives at noon. She is in a dress the color of the sea — not the blue of it, the deeper grey-green of it when the light is low, and the water is full of its own depth. She has had her hair done, which Valentina has seen perhaps four times in her life, and she is carrying the sixth bowl, wrapped in the same tea towel, which Valentina did not expect and which undoes her completely for approximately forty-five seconds before she

She took the black ceramic blade from her sheath—the one Viktor had taught her to use when she was fourteen. "You weren't a father, and you weren't a mentor," Sloane said, her voice dropping to a whisper that was more terrifying than a scream. "You were just the man who watched my mother die." She drove the blade home. Viktor’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as the light began to fade. He didn't fight. He slumped against her, his blood staining the silk of her shirt. "Now..." Viktor wheezed, a final, dark irony in his voice, "...you are truly... the Black Rose."

Which would be any minute. I go back to my bedroom and watch as Rose ties her hair into a high pony. Rose is wearing a royale blue dress that goes mid-thigh and has a cut out of her leg. The dress as a v-neck that shows off her breasts. She is wearing dark blue heels and light makeup. She also has her in a high pony but it does not reach past her neck.

His polished ceremonial uniform was black velvet edged with silver; the crest of the Knight Command gleamed on the clasp at his shoulder. His eyes found mine instantly, steady and unreadable, and the air between us seemed to tighten. When the Queen rose, the murmurs died. “Rebecca Rosewyn,” She said, her voice carrying with practiced ease, “you stand before the Crown in acceptance of a bond that will unite you with the Knight Commander. This is not merely a union of two souls, but an accord between your craft and the throne’s will.” My palms were damp. Somewhere behind me, Maddie gave a subtle nod, as if to remind me I could still breathe.

If she could just find a way out…. A loud click. She spun. The door behind her creaked open. Not the hallway door. The panel behind the bookcase. A man stepped through the narrow passageway, dark curls damp with sweat, a gun in one hand, blood on the other. His shirt clung to his sculpted torso, open down to the middle of his chest, smeared with soot. But it was his eyes, those ice-blue eyes that rooted her to the floor. Alonso.

He had set new ones specially made for the idiot prince. "Then… okay," she smiled feeling relieved, it won't be good to lie that she was a bit afraid of that man. His aura was dark and full of thirst for blood. She didn't want to cross his path again. This time a new knight appeared by the door to escort her to the main platform. The said knight was a woman in white robes and a golden dragon tattoo on the side of her neck. Her hair was short, styled to one side of her face. However, the most outstanding feature was that the scar on her right side of the face. It was in the form of a flower, a black rose with spines flourishing in her skin.

He ordered the nights. The knights did as ordered and released the cuffs on Cecilia’s hands and pulled her out of there. Cecilia was not taken too far from them and watched what was happening. “By the order of the Omni King, I hereby arrest individual Rose Roosevelt under the reason, potential danger to the nation and possibly the world.” When Harold said this, a pair of knights picked up Rose and took her away. Rose struggled to free herself. “Let me go!” But the knights were stronger than her and she could not get away.