Crowns Of Nyaxia Series Order Novels & Stories

A gasp tore from my throat, transforming into a low, powerful huff as Nyx took the reins. Nyx shook out her fur, stretching her large, powerful limbs. Unlike normal wolves, Nyx was massive, nearly the size of a purebred Alpha wolf, and her coat was a striking, midnight black with a single, snowy-white patch directly over her chest. But the most defining feature was her eyes vibrant, glowing violet. "Goddess, that feels amazing," Nyx howled silently in my mind, her paws digging into the dirt. She took off like a shot.

Ice explodes through their cores and they collapse, frozen and dead. “Hands!” Rowen shouts, light pouring from his palms as he heals the frostbite numbing our fingers. Askalaphos just stares, stunned. I shake out my hand and run for the door. “Let’s go!” Inside, Nyx is screaming in pain, curled in a massive jet-black bed, her raven hair soaked with sweat. Her face is flushed, exhausted—and stunning. “Nyx!” I shout, rushing to her. Alexander, Rowen, and Askalaphos close the door behind us. I hear Persephone urgently telling us there’s no time—the baby is crowning. It has to be now.

She closed her eyes, the room became silent and several moments passed. Then the healer frowned, she moved her hands again and she picked up another crystal from her bag. The crystal slowly glowed silver and Cassian stepped forward. “What is happening?” “I’ve never seen this before.” The healer opened another ancient book, she compared several drawings and then she checked Nyra again. The silver light became brighter and Nyra looked frightened. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” The healer did not answer immediately, she looked from the glowing crystal… …to Nyra…

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.

All of his hype comes from his brothers, how good-looking he is or horny people who like smut-filled books. His brothers are just as famous as him. His eldest brother, Christian Crown runs a few strands of clubs and hotels. The middle brother, Khalil Crown is the maker and designer of the Crown. A car luxury brand, which became as popular as BMWs, Teslas, Lamborghinis, Mercedes and other car brands in just its first year of being produced. Soon enough they became on the same level as Rolls Royce, Lambos and other luxury cars. I do have to admit Crown cars are sexy as fuck.

“Zuzu, go to Dad now and tell him I’m teleporting Vaheed to the vaulted dungeon, and have Marlena wait there.” While Zuzu whistled and vanished into thin air, Nyx raised his tuft tail and curved the tip in Vaheed’s direction. Battle-ready, he stood sideways between me and my guardian. Nyx splayed the tuft on his tail into fine white neon lines, his orbs electrified. His strong forelegs lowered his body to prowl at his prey while his rear was raised.

"But yes, I fear what lurks beneath this castle. I fear what I have seen before. And I fear what it will take to stop it." Lyra's silver eyes gleamed in the candlelight. "Then tell me everything." Nyxar hesitated only for a moment before stepping past her, toward a worn wooden table in the center of the room. He ran a gloved hand over its surface, his fingers tracing the deep grooves carved into the ancient wood. Runes. Symbols of protection. Of sealing.

Their furnace-eyes scanned the courtyard, locking onto the violet aura of the Obsidian Vanguard and the gold-and-sapphire glow of Kaelen. "They are the hunters of the Void," Nyx said, his voice a low, rhythmic vibration of fear. "They were built with 'Anti-Shadow' marrow. Our blades won't even scratch them." Silas looked at the warriors of the pack. They were standing their ground, but their faces were pale, their scents sharp with the metallic tang of impending death. They had just found their voices, only to be faced with the ultimate silence. He looked at Lyra. She was standing in the center of the ruins, her obsidian crown glowing with a violent, rhythmic pulse. She wasn't looking at the

Louder. “Stand, vessel.” Nyxara’s knees buckled as invisible hands hauled her upright, positioning her at the center of the glowing circle. Silver light rose around her like mist, warm and invasive, tugging at something deep in her chest. Kaelion tried to move with her. The runes flared violently. He was thrown backward. “Kaelion!” Nyxara shouted as he hit the stone wall hard, the impact rattling the chamber. Silver chains of light lashed out, wrapping around his wrists and ankles, pinning him in place.

Just beauty for its own sake. Flowers bloomed from our palms, each one reflecting a different perspective. Golden roses for Kael's fierce devotion. Silver lilies for Rhett's sharp intelligence. Blue orchids for Darius's gentle strength. Violet nightshade for Marcus's dark history transformed. And in the center, a bloom that shifted through every color—Lyra's cosmic nature, containing multitudes. We wove them together into a crown. Not for wearing. Just for creating. Just to prove that even as one being, we could still make beautiful things.