Casting Crowns Courageous Novels & Stories

Royalty…- my wolf spit the word out with more venom than I had ever felt work through her. There is no way, there HAS to be a mistake- I told her back. I even allowed her to speak once they announced it, asking how they were chosen and whether we could change it up, invoke someone else, someone more worthy. I didn’t use those exact words, but I knew they knew what I meant. Fucking Molina Abuela came out of nowhere with the crowns and we had to stand there and watch as their powers grew and they got literal crowns on their unworthy heads.

My skin crawls at the thought of baring his disgusting mark. Crow's large toned body is almost identical to Trent's, and that makes my worry only grow. They are as even as my mate was to Gunnar. Trent attacks first, and Crow dodges in the nick of time. He swipes at the womanizer's black pelt but also misses. Trent strikes again and lands a hard blow to Crow's head. Crow stumbles, and Trent attacks. He claws Crow's face, and when Crow lifts his arm to block, Trent latches onto it.

Marcus wandered over, still trying to catch his breath. "I've seen you negotiate peace treaties with hostile packs." Kaelor raised an eyebrow. "I've seen you command ten thousand warriors in battle." "Hm." "I've even seen you wrestle a rogue Alpha twice your size." "And?" Marcus looked at the crooked flower crown with the cabbage leaf. "...This is somehow the most terrifying thing you've ever done. I'm scared for my life looking at it." Kaelor actually laughed, deep and genuine. "A crown is a crown, Marcus. Especially one made with love and cabbage."

He was at the back. Children at the edges who were smaller children when I left and learned from the adults around them what to call me and what to do with what they called me. None of them spoke. Zayden rode beside me and said nothing. His presence was doing its own work without requiring words. Alpha Zayden Crowe of Obsidian Keep was known across every northern territory. The scarred arms and the gray eyes and the quality of contained force that he carried everywhere he went. The Red Claw wolves who did not know what to do

I am so small that his one big hand can almost go all the way around my bones. "You..." His mouth opens and closes. He looks at my thick clothes, then he looks at the big pain in my eyes. He sees that I am trying to act strong even though I am terrified. He just stands there. Many years later, Castiel Crowe will still talk about my face at this moment. He cannot understand how a wolf can look so broken and so proud at the same time.

I kept my expression neutral as I picked up the card, clicking my tongue softly. "That ornament might look old, but it's still an antique. There's even an auction tag on it. Didn't you notice?" "Yeah, right," Jim scoffed. "My underwear has a tag, too. Guess that makes it an antique." He didn't take the hint at all. Instead, he grabbed my clothes, trying to pull at the fabric. "All that talk, and you're just after money in the end. Quit stalling. Start taking it off. Maybe if the guys here enjoy the show, they might toss you a few bucks to help you pay for the bag."

“Two days ago, Alexander personally took her to a private jeweler. Measurements, design consultations—he stayed the entire time.” My heart clenched. “There’s more,” Ethan continued. “And it gets worse.” “I accessed her private cloud. Password was Alexander’s birthday.” Inside were photos. Hundreds of them. I opened the file he sent. The album was titled: My Knight. The most recent post was dated two days ago. He said this crown belongs only to me. Just like him. Next week’s family dinner—he promised to give me a name. The image showed an exquisite bridal crown— diamonds and sapphires set in a constellation pattern.

Celeste: “I refuse your terms. I will not become the thunder that refuses to die. I will become the thunder that refuses to die alone. The storm does not outlive the ones I love. It lives because of them. Take it or leave it.” I reach up and rip the cracked Crown of Dacia off my head. Hold it out. The Thunder Crown screams (rage, fear, longing). Then it lunges. Not at me. At the circle. Lightning pours into all seven of us at once. It burns. It remakes. It binds. The two crowns shatter and reform as one (smaller, warmer, alive).

“To the crown. To Ancnix.” “And what happens when those are no longer the same thing?” Kailee asked. The question lodged deep. Zayden’s hands curled into fists. Fear burned sharp and undeniable — fear of betrayal, fear of being wrong, fear of choosing truth and losing everything he’d been raised to stand for. But beneath it was something worse. Fear that she was right. “I don’t know how to fight the crown,” he admitted. “I don’t even know what that looks like.” Kailee stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Then stop pretending this is nothing. Because every day you wait, the city gets darker. And Elora gets further away.”