Crooked Kingdom Novel By Leigh Bardugo นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I thought you’d want to take a look, just in case. Thank you, Nova, I said, looking at her axolotl. We walked into the library, and she asked for a small manuscript. The man is stiff, vampire maybe? Place it in front of us. I opened it. The first page was empty, and I turned one more page; the language was ancient. Reading out loud: the shadows will rise, and the darkness answers to one only, the real queen of the forgotten souls. Uhhhmm, Nova, I think you got the wrong book. It doesn’t say anything about Rune healing.

My whole body felt wrong, too heavy, too fragile, too full of… I didn’t even know. I was shaking. Not from cold, not from pain. From everything. That dream… That nightmare… It wasn’t just a bad dream. It was a memory, I felt it was, but how could it be? I’ve never sat on a throne. I’ve never worn crowns or held kingdoms in my hand. I’ve never been called Queen. Never. I’m just Ayla. Broken. Bruised. Unwanted. The girl who wasn’t even good enough to be loved by her own mate. The girl whose own brother tried to drown her like a dog too broken to keep.

If she perished, then so too did the only bridge between dragons and men he could still imagine. He returned to Qombinia bearing two corpses: King Rhaedon’s broken armor and Queen Lythissa’s sunstone crown. The court lowered its eyes, for the last remnant of mercy in their king drained away like blood from a mortal wound. Drakonios swore before the Obsidian Flame: I will scourge every realm that raised arms this day. I will make ashes of their palaces and dust of their names. And so the old, kind Drakonios vanished, replaced by the merciless monarch known in whispers as the Heartless King.

“You do not reforge it alone. You let me place my hands upon the cracks. You let me bear them too. And together, we make something unbreakable.” For a moment, the world shrank to just them—shadows and starlight entwined, two hearts torn by duty and desire. The crown lay between them on the floor, gleaming faintly as if listening. Then, a voice carried through the chamber. Low, sharp, edged with venom. “Beautiful words, Kaelen. But words do not win kingdoms.” Both turned sharply. From the shadows of the hall, a figure stepped forward. Cyrion Duskbane, heir of the fallen kingdom, his silver eyes gleaming with unreadable intent.

A long line of other boys entered-some ashamed, some determined-each lowering their heads before her. Elowyn turned to Baron again. He gave one firm nod. So she stood. Her voice rose clear and steady. "We stand at the edge of chaos. Haspan has broken kingdoms. He has broken families. He wants to break the world and rule it." Every boy leaned forward. Every warrior froze. She lifted her hand toward the sky-toward the faint, waiting glow of the blue moon. "But we will not let him. We will end the commotion he started. And together, we will fulfill the blue moon."

Sophie was about to do the same when someone roughly nudged her shoulder. Turning around, she saw the head of the servants glaring at her, gesturing towards the Queen's table. Sophie understood the unspoken message and, as she turned to go, the woman hissed some words she couldn't comprehend before walking away, leaving Sophie feeling alone and vulnerable. With hesitant steps, Sophie approached the throne, placing the bowl on the table before Queen Aslaug and her husband. Yelda, her assistant, followed suit by placing a large plate down. Meanwhile, Sophie refilled King Ragnar's mug, but her nervousness got the better of her, causing her to knock down a jar that shattered on the floor.

He held me with red eyes and said, "The person I care about most is you. Vivian has no family behind her, and she has trauma. I just pity her. I'm helping her." I believed him. Looking back, I was an idiot. Friendship was their cleanest cover. Protection was the prettiest excuse for betrayal. At ten, my father's underboss knocked. "Miss Rossi, the Council wants every heir at the old chapel to confirm their trial seals. Last step before the list locks." I changed into black and went. Countless alliances had been sworn there under stained glass saints, roses, and guns. Beside the DeLuca seat was an empty chair. It had always been mine.

I had stepped into his world thinking I was safe. What a fool I was. The door opened and he walked in, smelling of steel and sweat. His eyes were sharp, glittering with something cruel. “I gave you everything,” he says without preamble. “A name, a pack, a throne. And still you fail me.” I stiffened, my hands curling in my lap. “I have not failed. The Moon Goddess decides these things.” “The Moon Goddess?” He laughed, he sounded dark and cruel. “No, Jean. You will give me what I want, or someone else will.”

she whispered into the dark, though she was not sure whether the words were for herself or the life inside her. Far beyond the borderlands, in a hall of black stone and torchlight, an Alpha king lifted his head abruptly from the council seat as the kingdom around him shifted with a pull he could not name. It was not pain. It was not threat. It was something stranger, sharper, like a thread in the world had gone tight all at once. His fingers curled slowly over the arm of the chair. The room fell silent around him, waiting. He did not speak. He only stood, his expression darkening in a way that made every guard in the hall brace without understanding why. Because for the first time in years,