Crown With Blood Novels & Stories

His eyes locked onto my white fur, my glowing silver-blue eyes, and the crown mark on my forehead. “Holy shit…” he breathed, voice shaking with dark excitement. “Royal golden blood. Look at the crown mark! She’s direct line!” The others stared, awe and greed mixing on their faces. The leader’s expression turned cold and hungry. “Forty-six golden bloods we’ve killed. None had the crown. None were this pure. You’re gonna make us legends, princess. Your death will send the perfect message. The Council will pay out the ass for royal blood.” He signaled his team. “Surround her. Don’t let her run. And watch it, she’s stronger than the others.”

His only weakness. He traced the symbols on the scroll with one finger. When she fled, she took more than his shadow. She took his crown. Not the one he wore on his head. The real crown. The one made of blood and bone and centuries of pain. She buried it in the bloodline. In you. I stared at the scroll. The symbols seemed to move, shifting under my gaze. A crown, I said. I never wanted a crown. No one wants this crown, Lysander said. It is not made of gold or jewels. It is made of responsibility. Of sacrifice. Of the weight of every wolf who came before you.

The golden collar gleamed like a crown—and wasn't that the sickest joke of all? Kael had worn crowns. Small ones during ceremonies, elaborate ones for state functions, the simple circlet that marked him as Crown Prince during court sessions. He knew the weight of gold against skin, knew how it caught the light and proclaimed ownership, status, *power*. But he'd never seen gold used like this. Never seen it twisted into a symbol of possession rather than authority.

Damon drifts toward center ice and stops at the logo. I follow. For a moment, we stand where the game began. Where so much between us almost ended. “Funny,” he says. “All that fighting over who gets the crown.” “And?” He looks at me fully. “There was only ever one.” The words hang there. Not competitive. Not sharp. Certain. Only one crown. And it doesn’t belong to one king. The arena lights dim slightly as the crew prepares to clean up. I feel his hand brush mine. Not by accident.

“The witch is dead, her blood is gone, my father’s lab is next, we burn it, we break the rest of his work, you get your minds back.” Murmurs. Hope. Draven steps to me, careful. “The crown,” he says. “Can you take it off.” I touch it. It burns. “I don’t know.” “Try,” he says. “For me.” I pull. Pain rips through my skull, and the crown comes away, blood on the tines. It crumbles to ash in my hand. The ferals gasp, some falling, some crying, as if a string got cut.

Bardolph attacked Lobo, but bound warriors crashed between them, and the courtyard exploded into snarls before Conri’s command froze Northridge blades. “Stop!” I shouted, and my voice carried enough royal blood that even several Blackfang warriors stumbled beneath it. The servant’s blood crawled toward the crown like a thin red thread, and my sister watched it with horror and longing fighting across her face. Otsana threw silver dust across the thread, breaking it before the crown could drink fully, but the damage had already begun. “The crown tasted unwilling blood,” Otsana said, looking at me as if the night had just become shorter.

PROLOGUE "Red is always symbolizing love. But for Rose it had never been love. It was blood. Even her name has red on it. Blood that she hates. If she has the time to turn things back on, she will never ever tie herself to the man that she once loved. " A King… Her king that rules the kingdom. The blood that she doesn’t need is the one that can keep her alive. She doesn’t know that love is going to make its way to getting in the way of the love she throws at her. She doesn’t know that once in her life… Red will always be love and Rose will always be red. ROSE AMARA AMBER

Every member has a Necklace or bracelet or ring embodied with a claw holding a rose, dripping with blood. It is the cutest thing ever and there's a crown right under the droplets of blood, I didn't encompass the crown but it's a mistake I took as fate when the jewellers made them. All these items can be worn by all but the necklace, and tattoos are according to rankings.

Selene cuts her hand first, followed by Octavia, Archie, and Dean. The blood mixed and came out of the bowl. Selene twisted her hand, and two identical crowns appeared. The crown is golden with red gemstones on it. It has three thorns coming out of it, but it confused me why there were two. The blood poured on the crown, and I can see the blood entering the gemstones and turning them crimson red. Selene looked at Dean, smiling at him.

The pack roars with laughter and many of the members begin to chant, "Let her sit, let her sit." Victor stands beside my throne and the head elder walks towards him holding my crown on a golden pillow. I gasp when he hands the crown to Victor. The crown is gold filigree with diamonds and emeralds on the tops of each point. Just over Victor's shoulder I can see the Blood Moon shining brightly in the sky. It is almost at its highest point in the night sky. Looking back at Victor I notice that he has already begun his speech. I cringe inwardly hoping that I have not missed anything important.