Booktok Crowns Novels & Stories

Okay, we all know I would not be able to even get a punch in but I could have him weak on his knees while I grind on him, ridding him so good. My heart drummed even harder, not the time. His crown was placed first. It was so large it took everything in me not to gasp. It was black in color, so stunning with white and black short fur at the ring of it as it sat on his hair. The crown was laced with red diamonds which just left you breathless. It was truly something to see, just wide eyed but I closed my mouth and stared ahead until I saw the man walk towards me.

The man scrambled to open the box, placing it on the table. In it was a crown. The crown was made entirely of gold and encrusted with various gems. One of the gems was a fiery red color, emitting an exquisite scarlet glow. Wilbur scanned the crown with his spirit energy, and it lit up at once. He picked the crown up, taking a closer look at it. The man blinked nervously, clearly caught off guard by how carelessly Wilbur was handling the crown. A while later, Wilbur looked up. "I'll take it. I'll help you with whatever you want after I'm done."

There’s actual fanfare, from real trumpets, and the huge doors open to admit me. All thought of Ashton or anyone else, really, clear my mind entirely. I instantly focus on Nathan, seated on his throne, the crown of our pack leader shining silver against his dark hair. The King’s crown is a simple, polished band with peaks that rise up in the shape of fangs; pack legend is that they’re actual werewolf teeth. I suppose now that I’m about to be queen, I could find out. I should make a list of all the weird things I’ve always wanted to know. Since life around Aconitum Hall seems like it’s going to be pretty boring, maybe I can write a definitive history of the pack or something.

Ashina stood quickly, one hand still over her stomach, and for a moment I saw two wounded women ready to blame each other because Adolphus had taught them too well. “The first Blood Feather book,” I said, rising slowly so my sister’s eyes would come to mine instead of Ashina’s throat. Otsana’s gaze dropped to the page, and every inch of her went still when she saw the two crowned wolves and the child between them. The silver mark on her wrist flashed. The book answered. A third crown appeared above the child’s head, darker than the others, made of black feathers and tiny bones. Otsana whispered something in the old language, but the word broke before it could become a prayer or curse.

“The first king cannot return without a body.” Shigure looked at me. “A body carrying royal tide blood and wolf memory.” Cael gave a bitter laugh. “So everyone chose the same girl.” The book opened again. This page showed the blood moon. Three crowns circled beneath it. The Tide Crown. The Stormcrest Crown. A third crown made from black bone. Words burned across the glass. WHEN THE THREE CROWNS MEET, THE FIRST KING MAY RISE. THE LAST QUEEN MUST BE EMPTIED.

Her face was already pinched into the expression of a woman preparing to fire the entire palace staff. “Mami.” I cracked an egg into a bowl. “Morning.” “My crown is missing.” I picked up a second egg. “Which crown?” Gabby looked at me like I had just asked who the president was. “My pink glitter crown.” “You have four pink glitter crowns.” “The aquarium one.” “Oh. The cheap one.” “It’s royal.” “Royal and seven dollars can coexist.” Her face darkened. “It’s gone.” Another set of footsteps came from behind her.

“I know.” A small, breathless smile curved his mouth. “And I love you too,” she whispered. Below them, the lake caught the light and held it, and the forest around it carried that warmth inward—through root and stone, through corridor and heart—until it reached the quieter halls of the palace, where another choice waited with equal patience. Corren stood alone in the Hall of Roots, the Verdant Crown resting upon its living pedestal. It was not forged by fire but shaped by time—wood veined with gold, leaves eternally green along its arch. The chamber smelled of earth and rain, ancient and steady.

Students from every house mingled below them. Everley witches glowed underneath layers of enchantments woven into flowing evening gowns. Groups of Hawthorne wolves crowded near the long banquet tables overflowing with food, already louder than anyone else in the room. Nerezza vampires drifted through the hall, dressed in elegant silk and sparkling jewels, eyes fixed calmly on the room around them. And then there was Aurelian. Well, one Aurelian. Nora Carver leaned against the opposite side of the room, talking with Elias, unconcerned as ever that she was the sole dragon at Obscura. Even in nice clothes, she commanded the room effortlessly, shoulders back and calm despite the stares she was p