Cruel King Block Tales Fanart Novels & Stories

King Asnus called hesitantly, "there's something you need to know." "What, pray tell?" "The raiders, they had sharp claws and teeth. Their eyes also glowed a weird green. Thru seemed strange but they were humans, I'm not sure if…" he trailed off. Sebastian's eyes narrowed. Definitely not vampires. Green eyes… vampires were red. "I'll take care of it. Do as I have commanded." King Asnus bowed, "yes, my lord." Sebastian turned and went down the roof. "Are you leaving?" Aurora asked when she saw him walking out of the partially destroyed palace.

It was as if a part of me longed for his presence, which made me confused about why I was feeling this way. I blocked the thought from my head and went to the bathroom to freshen up, I changed into something new and headed downstairs to look for King Derek. “Are you ready?” King Derek asked as I walked down the stairs to meet him. “Yes, I am” I replied with a smile on my face. ………. As I walked into King Derek’s museum, my eyes widened in awe. The exhibits were mesmerizing, showcasing the rich history and lore of the Lycan world. I couldn't help but wonder how old some of the stuff was.

The vibrant scene unfolding before me depicted our families forging an unbreakable bond with the Dark Fae King, facilitated by the enchanting Syla, the Dark Fae King's cherished daughter. The mural beautifully captured the tender tale of how the Moon Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, had brought together the Dark Fae king and his destined mate, Syla's mother. Their love blossomed in the most unexpected of circumstances – captivity – yet ultimately triumphed, as He joined forces with The Alpha King Lukarian, of the Lycan Venom Fang Pack, his daughter's pack to vanquish their captor. As the narrative unfolded, the mural illustrated the Dark Fae king's poignant encounters with his descendants, i

By the time I reached the grand doors, blood — theirs, not mine — stained the marble. The king stood at the far end of the hall, trembling behind his guards. I walked past their blades as if through tall grass. When I reached him, he stumbled back, gasping, “What are you?” I said nothing. I only grabbed his wrist, forcing his own sword into his hand, then pressed the blade against my chest. “Try,” I whispered. “See what your cruelty can do to a man who cannot die.” He struck — again and again. Each wound healed before his eyes.