Crownless King Novels & Stories

"Well, I'm Valerie and you are...?' "I'm... Roseline" Roseline answered, taking another look at her. "Wow! Roseline. That's a nice name. Well,you prolly might not know me, but I'm one of the King's bride and I've been seeing you around the palace for some days now". Roseline's brows knitted. Hold on, did she just say one of the King's brides? "The King has some brides?" She unavoidably asked the lady. "Oh! Yes, of course. He has three brides in all and would be choosing his Queen in a short time from now" Valerie explained happily and Roseline just mouthed an *oh* and stared away.

As we move—brothers sealing exits, plans snapping into place—I know one thing with brutal clarity: She understands the world. What she doesn’t understand yet… …is how far four Crown Lords are willing to burn it down to keep her breathing.

He wore the crown of the Ironfang dynasty on his head like it belonged there. "Well, well. The pretenders awaken." "That crown does not belong to you, Ravenclaw," Prince Kael snarled. "Does it not? I claimed it by right of conquest. The oldest law in the kingdom." He approached Kael's cell, studying him like a bug in a jar. "Your dynasty is finished, boy. Built on lies and maintained through weakness." "Weakness?" Darius strained against his chains. "We will see who is weak when these bonds are removed."

Yet, somehow, she knew them. The man was similarly dressed like the woman. But where she had leather sleeves and trews that laced up, he had no sleeves and full leather trews that were loose enough to move in but not so loose that they would hamper his fighting ability. On his head was a crown. A crown of the purest gold braided with platinum and inlaid with the largest ruby she had ever seen. It was easily as big as her fist. On the crown were several figures and when she tried to look closer, she realizes that they were dragons in flight. Mira gasped and realized that this was not only the ruler of the Keep, but the fabled Dragon King.

The words die on Skôll's tongue as his eyes widen slightly, “Call-” The Lycan King throws his head back, digging his fingers into the skin of his bare chest, like it could reach the heart — and grunts painfully, in a growl that resembles a cry… With watery eyes and tears wetting his eyelashes, he loses the strength of his legs, falling down in front of his people, who gather around to see, for the first time, the infamous Callisto del Amathea on his knees.

Only I had been trapped in my own delusion—believing Damian loved me too. "Don't worry, Harrison. I won't follow him anymore. And I won't keep hurting myself for his sake." I had already made my decision. I was going back to the North. I was going to become the Alpha Prime. To stop myself from wavering, I immediately called my father. Caspian Nightshade was overjoyed. He had always said my talent and ability would be wasted if I didn't take the throne. Damian was just the Alpha of a mid-tier pack. He could never be king.

“Please, join us.” Kael’s movements were deliberate as he strode to the table, his boots echoing against the marble floor. He sat without hesitation, his posture impeccable, and for a moment, the room felt too small to contain the tension between them. “This is my daughter, Princess Emilia,” King Alaric said, gesturing toward her. “She will stand in place of her sister, Princess Celeste, as your bride.” Kael’s eyes shifted to hers, and Emilia forced herself to meet his gaze. His expression didn’t waver—no surprise, no warmth, no disdain. Just a cool, unyielding mask.

The great doors close with a sound like breaking bones, leaving me alone with the ache of this cursed crown and the weight of a kingdom built on graves. The crown itself pulses against my temples, its once-brilliant gold now tarnished to the color of old blood. It used to shine like captured sunlight, a beacon of hope and righteous rule. Now it hums with an endless network of hairline cracks, each fracture a spider's thread of corruption spreading deeper into the metal and into me. Each break is a reminder that nothing in this world remains unbroken: not thrones built on noble intentions, not bloodlines stretching back to heroes of legend, not oaths sworn under starlight with hearts full of

she countered. “If you want to win the crown, you have to work hard like the other girls. There's no shortcut in becoming the Luna Queen,” Came his passive reply. “Is that why you have scars all over your body, your pack wants you to win badly that they don't care about hurting their own,”

“Y-Your Majesty, p-please have mercy on us!” Both eunuchs and maidservants, and even the guards were on their knees right before their king. “What exactly is going on?” King Lawson asked, who just finished his daily training at the Soldiers’ Hall. He was the ruler of the Silex Kingdom known for his militaristic rule that somehow stabilized their kingdom after a long-waged war. Though he was also criticized by his people due to his mistake of dethroning the rightful queen whom they believed was a great loss of the kingdom. Anyhow, his rule still brought prosperity that no one had dared to mention of that so-called mistake as if it was considered a taboo.