Romans & histoires Brutal Prince

and looking for the prince but we couldn't find him "general we can't find the prince" one of my men reported to me "keep on searching" I shouted with impatience. We had to find him or else I'll be dead before I have a chance to report my failure, after a while the warriors came rushing towards us and the prince was running to the battle with one of the sirens from the river. When they got to us the battle got heated up, arrows were raining from the sky and my men were dying but we still had the upper hand and that was when the so called tribreed prince shifted into a dragon and started to rain fire on us. In a matter of minutes half of my men had been killed, the tables had turned and we w

The other four stood off to either side, close enough to their Prince while leaving enough space to show respect, though they didn’t look too happy. I make the mistake of shifting my gaze to one of his guards. The Wyre is just as tall as his Prince, just as muscular and lean. Just as powerful. His dark hair is trimmed short, unlike his Prince. Scruff lines his jaw, concealing the sharp edges I know lie beneath. With the two of them standing so close, I can practically taste their power. Bitter. Metallic. Dark. “Princess.” My focus snaps to the Prince. His voice is cold and expressionless, a deep rumble within the back of his throat. That one word is enough to send shivers cascading down my s

“Pathetic and weak.” Something flickered in Hayes’ eyes, a dangerous glint. His voice was low but cutting. “Alpha? You couldn’t even protect your own wife. You let her rot, and you don’t deserve that title. Lucky for you, you are not my Alpha.” Laurent’s body went rigid as his chest heaved once, twice, before a roar tore out of his throat. He released my wrist, shoving me aside, and lunged at Hayes. The crash of their bodies colliding shook the air. My back hit the wall as I stumbled, wide-eyed, watching claws and fists clash.

Caesar stepped into the snow. Not in armor. Not in rage. But in a long coat lined with dark gold, its silver buttons gleaming like captured moonlight. He was tall, graceful.His face carved by gods, yet softened by warmth. Pale lips curved in a smile. A single blood-red mole beneath his right eye, like a drop of wine on porcelain. More radiant than Lucian. More comforting than the hearth. The Blood Prince of the Empire. He stopped before me. Then knelt—just slightly—so our eyes met level.

The prince changed the topic and said, "I just feel that your methods are too weak. You are so weak that you are not worth mentioning at all, okay? You make me very speechless! This little ability is only worthy of being crushed by me! No more!" "What?" As soon as these words were spoken, everyone exploded into rage! The prince was too arrogant and too conceited. He actually said that he could crush them. He really didn't take them seriously!

It was unexpected. Illarion Black, better known as the Black Prince, had been much different from the last time the nobles had seen him. The little boy, who was innocent and full of love, had turned into a big tall young man with a stern look. The rancid smell of blood still clung to his armour added to the darkness of the Black Prince's dark aura. The Black Prince bowed slightly with his hand pinned to his right chest, a gesture of respect, before saying, "Your Majesty, Prince Illarion Black salutes. To the glory of the great golden lion of Anarka."

I knew it was my wishful thinking and it wouldn’t happen so easily but I wanted to try and be the only fûcking one to do that for her. I felt her walls closing around me, squeezing me so tightly that I almost came apart at the seams but then her expression registered and the paleness of her face made me freeze. “Princess...” I leaned down and took her lower lip between my teeth, I gave it a suck and a bite. Her eyes fluttered open, but those blue eyes were pale. Fûck. I touched her cheek, my thumb pressed on her bottom lip and I demanded, “Fûcking look at me, princess. See me.” I pulled back and thrust into her. Hard.

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,

his order thundered in Rhae’s ears. The Princess? Rhae’s head became full of questions. Though she hadn’t known the woman for long, she had grown attached, even though she was a princess. Rhae flicked the knife from her palm upwards towards her attacker. The blade dug into the man’s shoulder, making him loosen his grip with a grunt. Rhae slid out of his hold and stood up, dipping away from reaching hands. She jumped, spreading her legs, kicking down both the men around the Princess. The men staggered, grabbing their necks in pain. Rhae grabbed the Princess’ sword off the floor and tucked the handle into her palm. Rhae grabbed her shoulder and sprinted out of the alley dragging the Princess b

the chef handed Mikhail a knife and a basket of potatoes asking him to help him peel it. Mikhail had tried following in his brother's footsteps, yet it still felt like something he could not imitate. What could define a prince? It was an open ended question that he too was unsure of. However, to always remain hidden behind a mask of perfection... It was something he couldn't do. He was imperfect and incapable of acting as intended by William. Speaking of princes, it reminded him of how there was a rumour from long ago in a town he had stayed in many years ago of a young prince from a foreign land. Unlike most prince, he was unrefined and preferred to live out his life to the fullest.