Novel & Cerita Books About Kings

During the night security in the harem was tight but in the day she could roam wherever she pleased, however limited. The library is where she spent all her time, no one went there, not even the King. She’d read lots of books, mostly ones of adventure and the outside world. And in this place she saw the prince. Clang! Clang! She heard weapons clashing against one another. Keanna sprung to her feet and wrapped her robe around her, she ran off outside. This was her last chance to live and step outside. For when a new king ascends the throne, the women of the previous King will either be released or killed. There was no guarantee she’d escape safely, however she still wanted to leave.

The king needed to be armed and ready for the members of the court and the royal family of commotion and chaos. He had seen the book years ago, during one of his late-night studies as he prepared to be King. That came from the motivation to be different from his father, Nathan, who never read much. He didn't know the majority of the laws of the kingdom and delegated all he could to Kain Kurt. Kain Kurt, who had been the King's Hand at the time was basically ruling the kingdom.

Aidan explains where I have to sigh a little, speaking with my father right now is something I can’t do. “Wish I could but with everything, it’s not possible at the minute.” I say looking down a little, I knew coming here would bring up some feelings, but I didn’t think it would be right out of the gate! “I just need to know, did the King do this to me because of what he read in a fairytale book?” I ask which was the biggest question, I knew Emmett had already explained that and the stories did sound so familiar, but I guess there was still a hint of doubt in my mind. “That’s correct, The Kings Apprentice, I believe the story is called. I had never heard of it before you were born, but it’s

Despite my dissatisfaction with her previous rude behavior, my focus alternated between the lamp and the king, intrigued by the unusual object she was carrying. I never heard much about the Alpha King. I allowed that matter to rest deep inside the pages of my history books that I haven't picked up yet. History, for me, was difficult to understand and memorize. Thus, I can only envision effectively based on stories from people. Moreover, the stories contained within those books often present just one perspective—the viewpoint of the victors. Rarely do they provide insight into the other side of the story, the experiences of the enemies, and the usurped.

I realize it is a harp of solid gold. Everything comes together in an instant. The gold, the harp, the bed, and the extravagance are clues to where I am. This is the King's private chambers. "Bathsheba," A warm voice grumbles lowly. I turn around. As I take in the chiseled features of my King I notice his red, wavy hair has grown longer since the last time I saw him. His pink lips spread in a kind smile, but my stomach churns inside of me. I sink to my knees and lower my cloth covered head. My eyes drift to the floor but are jerked upward when he brushes a finger against the bottom of my chin.

I teased. It was no kept secret that the Alpha king had a reputation for keeping exotic creatures. He also had a reputation for being cold. He had wiped out whole clans and packs within his rule, everyone was weary of him, he was a legend in itself, said to have descended from the Goddess herself. He was unstoppable, a story to tell children into scaring them straight. “You… Genesis I am… Have you never seen the king,” he fumbled, appearing almost shocked.

“Move—” Before We Begin A quick note about the werewolves in this story. If you came here expecting strict pack laws, ancient alpha traditions, and characters who behave exactly the way folklore says they should… You may be in the wrong forest. The wolves in this world follow instinct more than tradition. They make questionable decisions. They break rules that probably existed for good reasons. And occasionally they create problems that absolutely no one planned for. So if you catch yourself thinking, “A werewolf would never do that.”

Jace Kingston doesn't deserve space. I'm organizing my notes when the door opens. He fills the doorway like he owns it. Broad shoulders under a crimson Vipers hoodie. Dark hair still wet from the shower. Jaw sharp enough to cut glass. He smells like expensive cologne and something else—something cold, like the ice he skates on. Girls on campus call him King. They say it like a prayer. I say it like a curse. "You're the tutor?" His voice is low and lazy, like this is all a joke.

--- I spent two hours working through the ground floor history section. Most of it was exactly what it appeared to be — kingdom records, territorial histories, the documented reigns of dragon kings going back seven generations. Detailed, dry in places, occasionally extraordinary in the facts it contained so matter-of-factly that you had to stop and reread them to confirm you had understood correctly. One volume informed me in completely unexcited prose that the second Dragon King had once destroyed an entire mountain range in a border dispute, which was the kind of sentence that required a moment of quiet to fully absorb. I read with one part of my attention and searched with another.

This would throw me ten steps back, after I've made such good progress this week, with my purposeful touches of him in innocent moments, to the lingering stares. "Oh...No, I've been told I look like her, but no, I'm not her," I scramble. I hope it's enough for her to brush off. Usually I'm seen by the public wearing royal garments, and now, my hair is pulled back and I'm wearing gear Marek provided. "Right, sorry." The girl shakes her head, flushing with embarrassment. "I'm so jealous of her, aren't you?" I flinch. "Jealous?" She leans forward over the counter, grinning. "Married to a King. And so the hottest King in all the land, aside from Tyrien, obviously."