Claire Kingsley Books Novels & Stories

“The North has rules. Once you’re inside the gates, you belong to the King. But don’t worry. You won’t be the first ‘queen’ to struggle with the silence of this house.” She walked over to a small mahogany dresser, the only piece of furniture that wasn’t grey or black. She ran her fingers over the top of it. “Claire, she used to keep her roses here,” she said, her voice softening just a little. “Fresh white roses every morning. She was old money. She understood the weight of the Vane name. She moved through these halls like a ghost of grace. She never screamed. She never made a scene. And she certainly never had a heart that tried to stop because she was too weak to handle reality.”

Well, because I was. I licked my lips. “No. I’m not okay. Not at all.” Unexpectedly, Kaelen swooped in and tugged me against his chest. He enveloped me in his leather and whiskey scent, and his strong arms, and I let the rest of the world fall away. “Here it is.” Beau handed the book to Claire. “What exactly are we looking for in a book about magical blood feuds?” Claire ignored him as she flipped through and scanned the pages.

Alana was in the middle, her cheeks squished against mine and Claire’s. Claire was smiling. It wasn't the polite, guarded smile she gave my staff. It was wide and genuine, her eyes crinkling into crescent moons. There was a terrifying sincerity in that expression. Claire Desmond. The daughter of a crumbling dynasty. A woman discarded by her own blood because she didn't fit into their ledger of assets. I felt a low, dangerous thrum in my chest. It was a possessive instinct I thought I had buried years ago. I wanted to keep her here.

It should be alarming. "Well, you don't know yourself very well then. You need someone to keep you company. And from what I've heard he's charming and funny. Also a keeper" Clio wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at her sister before looking down to check her watch. "I've got to run. There's a new batch of souls arriving soon. Our dear father wants me to find some dirt on them." "Okay, I'll see you soon." Her sister grinned. "You bet!"

I do, smoothing my dress over my knees. She takes a slow sip of tea before speaking. “I think it’s time you learned more about the Kingsley family. They will all be present at your introduction.” My stomach tightens. “All of them?” “Yes.” She sets her cup down. “The Kingsleys are not a large family, but they are… influential.” Powerful and intimidating is more like it. I brace myself. Eleanor folds her hands neatly in her lap. “My late husband, Clinton Kingsley, was an only child. But he had one first cousin—Victor Kingsley—and three second cousins: Madeline, Gertrude, and Victoria.”

She was with me because I could make her cum faster than he could. Stifling my laugh, I looked over at Claire. Her nose was deep within another book, glasses on the edge of her nose. She had taken up reading psychology books for the fun of it. In all her years of being alive, she could have graduated from university several times over, but according to her she just wanted to gain knowledge for the fun of it. Sometimes she would test her latest theories on me. Diagnosis ranged from post traumatic stress disorder all the way over to borderline personality disorder. Claire could never fully come up with a viable diagnosis and it amused me to no end. She had tried to pin down Sonja's problems as

There were no profile pictures or any personal information given, except that she was based in LA. "Leave the book, A*i, please. I want to read it," said Weston in a quiet tone as he kept inspecting the book minutely. 'Faded Dreams By Isabella H.' "Sure, bro. I've read it already. You can keep it if you want," she said, handing him the book. Weston smiled. "Thanks, A*i. Ask for your treat, right away," he told her. A*ianna smiled back. "Wait, bro. Let her respond and acknowledge that she indeed is our very own Isabella. She could be Isabella Holmes, or Isabella Hawke or Isabella Harris or...," continued Arianna but Weston interrupted her.

Then I exhaled slowly and lifted my arms, returning the embrace with cautious gentleness. “I know you’ve been bored in this room,” Claire said as she pulled back, her eyes warm. She held up a small stack of books. “I brought these for you to read. It’s a romantic book.” She paused, studying my face. “You do know how to read, right?” I nodded quickly. “I know how to read,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. I took the books, my fingers brushing the covers. The illustrated title caught my attention, and a deep blush crept up my cheeks before I could stop it.

King Leon didn't mind letting him leave to join our kingdom. Clara is resting in bed. She’s reading a book on school curriculums from other kingdoms to gather ideas for her school. I’m sitting at my desk in our room going over last minute documents. Being king means there is a lot of fucking paperwork. I also have sign a document stating that I have officially elevated Clara from my slave to my wife to make it official as if the wedding itself wasn’t enough there has to be official papers signed. I don’t mind the headache that has come with elevating Clara to my wife. It’s worth it because she is worth it. “Killian.” She calls me.

I can feel the part of her soul that is connected to the Lycans, the part that is intrinsic to my Kingdom. It's a characteristic of the King, an ability we gain from the Goddess as soon as we take over... Klaus' father had it, Hoff had it when he was in power and I have it again now... which is to be able to see the souls of my subjects, those who are Lycans and werewolves. That's how we can trust the Alphas of the packs, and that's why it's easy to get used to the ordinary. Klaus had simply drifted away from the truth and lost that sense. Selene is not a patient Goddess, but when she explodes, nothing stands in her way.