Crown Of Iron Novels & Stories

‘For we are both fighting for our crowns. XXX

Katara looked at the Prince handed to her, she knotted her forehead and couldn't believe what he just lent. "No, I can't accept that." She immediately declined, it's his sword. The design changes but she can still feel the power that sword hold, the crown prince is not a crown prince of nothing. According to what she heard, at a young age, he was already sent to the battlefield as a leader and warrior and helped to win a war countless times, his sword was from their descendants that already slew millions of lives that made it more precious and more valuable. They said everyone who owns it will definitely succeed.

It looked impossibly heavy, like it was forged from the core of the world. "The Crown is not gold, Xian’na. It is lead. It is stone. It is the mountain that never moves." As she placed the crown on my head, the physical gravity tripled. My spine popped, and my knees hit the bedrock with a thud that sent a shockwave through the ground. The pressure was immense—it felt like a thousand tons were pressing me into the dirt. My lungs were collapsing. I thought of Samuel waiting for me. I thought of my brothers. I thought of the Holy Wolf’s destiny.

This time I wasn't near either of those people however, I was on a train, heading back home. They had posted a picture of two people. The man was older, with grey hair and a grey beard. He wore a military uniform and had a golden crown on his head. His wife was about the same age, though she still had some brown mixed in with her hair. She wore a modest, royal blue dress, and had a silver crown on her head. I scrolled down and started reading the article.

But unlike the celestial silver crown of the Luna, this object was forged from jagged, pitch-black iron and wrapped in swirling crimson flames. It didn't descend toward the altar. It hovered directly over my head. Lyra dragged herself up from the debris, her eyes widening in utter horror. “No... that's impossible...” “What is that?!” I yelled, panic seizing my throat. “That isn't the Luna crown...” Lyra whispered, her voice trembling with absolute terror. “That is the Crown of the First Alpha.” Before anyone could move, the iron crown shattered into a burst of black fire. A searing, excruciating pain erupted in my right palm. I screamed, collapsing to my knees as a jet-black mark—a stylized

My twin sister, Bianca, tried to kill herself because I was better than her at school. Apparently, my success triggered her. So my parents sent me away from the Bellini estate. “Only until the college decisions come out,” Mother promised. “Then you can come home.” Behind her, my brother, Dante, helped Bianca choose her new armored Bentley. My boyfriend, Luca, stood beside them, holding Bianca’s favorite white roses. “If anything happens, call us, Valentina.” I did. A month later, a drunk man showed up at my door and wouldn't stop pounding. I locked myself in the bathroom and called my family again and again. Every call was declined. Near dawn, Mother finally texted. Sorry, sweetheart. We wer

Gasps, shouts, steel drawn. “Don’t—” Elira started, but another stepped forward. A warrior this time. He seized the Crown with both hands and gritted his teeth. His muscles swelled with the effort of holding it, but then his eyes rolled back, and smoke bled from his mouth. He dropped, body charred from the inside out. The Crown didn’t move. It didn’t tumble. It sat perfectly upright, as if gravity obeyed it differently than the rest of the world. Zara’s jaw was clenched so tightly Elira thought she might crack a tooth. “This isn’t a trial. It’s a culling.”

“Crowns aren’t just rhinestones and gold, they are made up of discipline, determinant and a hard-to-find alloy called courage, do you deem yourself worthy of the such a title?” I darted my tongue to lick my dry lips as I nodded my head as the man muttered. “I do,” “With the power of god, I may pronounce you as the Queen of Nitholirc, wife of Lords of Nitholirc and hope of people,” My heart fluttered as he gently picked the crown with his both hands and Claus bowed slightly as he placed it on his head as people cheered and clapped. My chest tightened with uneasiness, and I swallowed the lump of nervousness in my throat.

For once, I did not try to make myself appear smaller. Greta adjusted the fabric over my shoulder and smiled at my reflection. “You look like a Luna.” “I am a Luna.” Her smile widened. “Exactly.” On the vanity rested the ceremonial crown. It was not delicate. Ironclaw did not create delicate things. The crown was made of dark silver, shaped like two wolves facing each other beneath a crescent moon. Small black stones had been set into the metal, catching the morning light. I lifted it carefully. My hands trembled.

“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.