Dark Prince By Christine Feehan Novels & Stories

Then, through the trees, a column of riders appeared—black silhouettes against the crimson light. The villagers poured into the square, whispering prayers. At the front rode a man who seemed carved from shadow itself. His armor was etched with runes that pulsed faintly red, and a long cloak flowed behind him like smoke. His face was half hidden by a hood, but his eyes caught the moonlight—crimson, cold, and alive. “The Dark Prince,” someone breathed. “He’s real.” The man dismounted, the air itself seeming to bow away from him. His gaze swept the crowd. “By order of the Crown,” he said, voice low but carrying. “We seek the girl born under the Blood Moon.”

Gravely. Her heart thumped to every step she took, as she held her breath with wide eyes and shaky fingers. She wasn't herself at all... wanting to piss her pants the closer she got to those Crazy wealthy Royals... And to crown it all, the diamond fortune dress and jewelry she wore– they weren't helping matters at all. Hell, she was fighting for balance. And as her feet touched on the very last stair, his hands appeared there, right in front of her, outta nowhere... as though he tore through time and space just to take her attention

I asked a waiter. "The Prince is in the garage, Miss. You were told to wait for him on the terrace." The maid answered expressionlessly. Yes, all the maids and people here are vampires. I know because they are all pale-faced, scary, and have no expression at all. Their characteristics are exactly like in a fairy tale book I've ever read. And because of that, I want to get out of here quickly. I don't want to coexist with these cold vampires! . I'm on the porch now, waiting for Kevin to get his car out of the garage. I wandered around a bit, exploring this place.

And there they were. Lycan Xander of Mooncrest, my protector, my declared king, standing in full ceremonial armor, a golden crown woven with runes that pulsed with ancient power. Beside him, Alpha Tristan Price—my former mate, my past, my pain—radiating raw dominance, every inch of him carved in regret and unspoken fire. My twins, Pearl and Luis, sat behind me. Pearl's golden eyes glowed like Tristan’s. Luis tapped his claws nervously—claws that were far too advanced for his age.

Prince Kral murmured softly, "Susanna, perhaps you've forgotten that this is the sanctuary of the werewolves. There are no accidents here!" Prince Kral looked up, surveying the illuminated area beneath the stairs. His voice gradually grew darker, and as he uttered the final sentence, I saw the corners of his mouth tighten abruptly. His golden eyes emitted a cold gleam, focusing on a neglected shadow. "Aren't you coming out, my distant guest?" Suddenly, in an unnoticed corner, a black mist emanated into the air. A mysterious figure clad in a gray robe and hood emerged from the darkness, as if a mushroom had suddenly sprouted from the cracks in the ground.

I said less audibly and walked out, leaving the maidens to themselves. *** HEATHER'S POV This was certainly not what I bargained for my son. I had only asked him to get a maiden to be presented on the day of his crowning as Alpha, only for him to return home with two maidens instead. The elders are certainly never going to welcome the idea, and neither do I. Killian is just being too dramatic right now and that alone might end up costing us everything we have ever worked for. I think I also noticed something unusual about the palace. It felt unusually cold and I was certain someone was not in the palace.

Illarion Black was now sitting opposite Queen Minerva. They looked at each other vengefully. The Queen's blue Netra flashed wide as if she wanted to kill the young man in front of her. The Black Prince replied with a gaze no less sharp and cold than his black bead as dark as night. It is no longer an open secret that the Black Prince hates the Queen. This is based on the dark story of the Prince's past, which is directly related to the Queen.

They all are. Besides Wrath and the Deadly Prince at the head of the table, five other princes lounged around the table, and by their intimidating yet palpable aura, it wasn't difficult to distinguish which sin was who. He had hair the color of dry wheat. Thick, flat brows now arching downwards as if he was in deep concentration, or he was somewhere in his own mind, lost under the throes of memories. His aura was calmer. Where the others were like a storm, violent and raging. He brought a sense of serenity to the room. For a moment I forgot where I was, and who I was with, the only feeling tugging at my muscles was to curl up somewhere and just rest. Be at peace.

Prince George’s Point of View Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for this morning. I woke slowly, the first rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold and then I froze. Princess Grace who is the cunning, calculating twin sister of Victoria was in my bed naked . The shock hit me like a blade to the chest. I wanted to scream. I wanted to flee. I wanted to vanish into the shadows but I could not move because of the shock .My hands shook, and a cold, visceral panic gripped my heart.

darling why don’t you contact your brother and have him come and handle this mess the queen has made.” Pure shock crossed my face as I shook my head at them all. “ That is enough!” I shouted, then stormed down the stairs heading to the dungeon. Mack was standing just inside the dungeon door when I arrived there. I knew Scott would be not to far behind me so I quickly walked to each body and used my dragon flames to send them to the afterlife. I turned to look at Mack just as the fae entered the dungeon. Mack’s eyes were glowing and I knew his dragon was close to the surface. I placed my hand on his chest to help calm his dragon. It looked as though I caressed him and the fae Prince laughed