Crowned By Secrets: Amaris And Osric Novels & Stories

As she continued, her eyes landed on the man who's besides her. She saw the crown prince leaning on the wall in the window, he's holding a book that in seconds will fall to the ground and he's sleeping. She removed the comforter on her and gently moved her feet out of the bed. She notices that she's wearing a white sleeping dress, it's not a big deal who changes her clothes because she knows that Deimos will never do that. She stood up carefully not to wake Deimos up and get the books he's holding. She tiptoed towards him, she extended her hand and she was about to get the book when it was too late because the book had already fallen.

I jumped. A text from Osric. *We had an accident at the bakery. Everyone’s okay, but we have to remake 300 muffins. I’m so sorry. I can’t make it to the wedding.* My stomach dropped. I turned to Romilly, forcing a shaky smile. “Osric’s not coming. Something happened at the bakery.” She took one look at my face and scowled. “Don’t even *think* about it,” she warned. “You’re getting on that yacht, Amaris Kennerly. Even if I have to drag you up the damn ramp.”

Cassian kissed him, swallowing the words, and their rhythm faltered, became desperate, became something that bordered on violence the specific violence of two men who had been denied this, who had been forced to hide this, who were claiming each other now with everything they had. They came together, messy and uncoordinated, clinging to each other like the world was ending—because in some ways it was. The world of hiding. The world of performance. The world where love was secret. After, they lay tangled together on the narrow cot, sweat cooling on their skin, breathing slowly synchronizing. Cassian's hand traced patterns on Daemon's chest nonsense shapes, letters that might have been words h

Seraphina announced, smoothing her dress as the car rolled to a stop. I shrugged back to reality and stared at the familiar environment of my kingdom. "Seraphina, I will have the driver take you to your estate. It is late and I…." I had barely gotten a few words out when she interrupted me. "No, I want to stay with you tonight, darling, I am so wet and I really need you inside of me. I want to get fucked." Her words sucked all the air out of my mouth. I stared at Amaris , she had her head bowed to her lap, clinging for dear life to the jacket I had given her.

It was magnificent, intimidating, and utterly devoid of warmth. "Amelia," Lorenzo's voice cut through my stunned contemplation. A woman stepped forward from the shadows. She looked to be in her late forties, dressed in a simple, elegant uniform. "See to Selene. She needs to be prepared." Amelia's eyes met mine briefly before she offered a slight bow. "Yes, Don Lorenzo." Lorenzo didn't spare me another glance. He simply walked away, disappearing down a grand corridor. Amelia, with a gentle hand gesture, indicated I should follow her.

“I can do it again.” Outside, the bells tolled midnight. Deep beneath the palace, in the Sanctum, frost crept along the golden walls. And in that silence, somewhere between prayer and power, the two sisters began to draw closer once more, one in chains, one in silk, each preparing to claim the crown that the other could not hold.

She couldn’t see the man’s face, but the feel of his body… was painfully, intoxicatingly real. His chest pressed warmly against her back. His breath slipped down her neck. A large hand stroked her arm slowly, setting her skin alight. She wanted to pull away, but her body wouldn’t move. She wanted to see who he was… but the shadow never revealed his face. He leaned closer to her ear. And whispered in a deep, masculine, mesmerizing voice—a voice powerful enough to tear her heart apart: “Râmi-ki…” She didn’t know what it meant.

“Downstairs—go!” Before Sienna could move, a shape burst through the archway—tall, hooded, ski mask swallowing everything but a flash of eyes. He swung a crowbar, smashing a vase into a spray of white shards. Sienna’s heart skipped, then she bolted for the stairs, Roman on her heels. Another figure loomed, blocking Vivienne—she let out a scream, raw and wrong, nothing like her usual ice. “Vivienne!” Sienna yelled, twisting back, but Roman’s hand clamped her wrist, dragging her up the steps.

"Ugh! For the love of God, Ivory. I've told you it's just a rumour. He's not getting married." "He is. Maximus told me that... "You still talk to that guy? I thought you said he annoys you and talks too much." Maximus is the guy that is completely smitten with Ivory. For a long time, he has been bothering Ivory by telling her how much he "loves" her. This man is capable of anything for Ivory, including information theft. "Yeah, but he's still useful, isn't he? Anyway, Maximus was the one on duty last night and he overheard the Queen talking with Lord Ronald about the prince's wife to be."

A tunic with gold threads underneath a surcoat having the red lion's face only outlined, the symbol of the Armen kingdom. She takes her eyes off royal clothes she's seeing so close for the first time and gazes at the familiar face. It's the boy she kissed in the woods. Sharp chins and dark black hair are the features she adored are the same as before, but his still eyes and tightened cheeks are the ones she's concerned about now. "Oh my god, Reza? You're the Prince of Armen." She gazes at him in shock. "I am sorry for what I did… I kis,"