Dark Prince Novels & Stories

The icy look they give to one another makes the hair on the back of my neck stand. "What the hell did you do to her, Prince?" Drake hollers, his voice filled with rage. "Did you think you could just do that to her?" he booms, and I'm afraid that everyone on this floor can hear. "You fucking bastard," he speaks the last sentence with greeted teeth. To my surprise, Prince scoffs, and it sends chills under my spine. Suddenly, I have a feeling that I might not want to witness everything that's happening here. "Really?" Prince voice is dangerously low and cold. "What did you expect me to do to her?"

Kylo is starting to snarl and put me behind him protectively. "Moja Laska, it's okay. This isn't a threat. No harm is going to come to me." He looks deep into my eyes. I am sure he wants to know what I called him. But he was more curious about the smoke. Drake appears from the smoke. Always dashing and flashy. True Lord of the vampires style. He is wearing a black suit with silver and red accents. His black hair slicked back. His eyes weren't red but a deep purple. Kylo is in shock by someone so flashy just appearing from red smoke in my bedroom. I am unfazed. He does this often.. "Always with the dramatics." I whisper and giggle at the same time, while watching Kylo's reaction.

He stirred, groaning, eyes fluttering open to the nightmare. “Wake up, princess,” Dre said, cracking his knuckles. “Time to chat.” Brandon blinked, blood trickling from his split lip. He tested the restraints, then laughed—wet, defiant. “You idiots. You think this scares me?” I stepped forward, grabbing his chin hard, forcing his eyes to mine. “The tape. Where is it?” He spat in my face. I wiped it off slowly, then drove my fist into his nose. Crack. Blood sprayed, warm and sticky, soaking his shirt. He howled, head snapping back.

Chapter 53: Stop him “Your Majesty! He’s unstoppable!” The cry tore across the royal courtyard as smoke and blood filled the air. Flames licked the ancient stones of Mathias’ kingdom, sparks rising like demons into the night. What had begun as a mere duel, a test of strength, had turned into an unholy storm. A single man against an entire empire. And that man was Kael. The once proud Lycan Prince now cut through soldiers like paper, his eyes burning red, his body dripping blood yet fueled by something darker than rage. Every swing of his sword cracked shields in half, every howl rattled the bones of even the bravest knights.

And there it stood. The Blood Throne. It was carved from obsidian, veins of red crystal pulsing through it like a beating heart. The floor was cracked around it, as though the throne had erupted from the earth. Before it knelt a man. Or what was left of one. He was bone and ash wrapped in black robes. His hair was silver, his skin like charred marble. He did not look up—he only whispered in a language none of them understood. Aelin whimpered. “He’s trying to bind to me. To make me sit.”

He looked at Altars face qne commented, "Purple hair and violet eyes....is this a Lightning user?" "Lightning?" Daerason echoed then he thought, 'but the boy displayed Fire nature. Or does he have lightning nature aswell?' "And this girl....Diego...." said Rickard Hyde, "well she has nice eyes ill give her that. Which makes me wonder why my friend Dorian is after them" "They destroyed half the kingdom of Dorne" said the prince, "and the king is not your friend"

She instantly fixed her posture when the princes approached her. "Nice to meet you, Princess" Prince Dark, the third oldest prince and the successor of the Stratos Royal Seat, held her hand and give it a kiss. His eyes were kind and soft but his aura was so dominative, she couldn't help but be intimidated. He was followed by a tall dark haired god!

the king of Dreadmoor yelled into the storm worried for his daughter. “Don’t worry dad, no one can hurt my sister with me here” Prince Oscar yelled as he slammed his fists into the ground. The earth split beneath the Dark Knights’ feet, jagged pillars of stone erupting to trap and crush. His dark armour gleamed, his black eyes blazing with controlled rage “Try getting through this, you bastards!” he growled.

“In case everything I said didn’t make sense to you earlier, Thalia Blackwood,” the Prince knocked me out of my thoughts. I stood back there, shackled and filthy, trying to ignore the way my wrists burned where the chains rubbed against raw skin. I didn’t have time to dwell on the pain. Not with *him* staring at me like that. Callum Silvermark, Crown Prince of Kyrador. His sapphire-blue eyes were fixed on me, cold and calculating.

His dark hair was down now to frame his square jaw, and he was wearing some kind of black fur cloak—although he was still shirtless beneath it, displaying those chiseled pecs and that strange tattoo in the center of his chest. Damn, I thought. He was born into the wrong world; could have been a successful model back home. “I don’t believe you,” he finally grunted. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “You can look me up online,” I said, growing a bit desperate. “Like I said, I’m a model and entrepreneur. I’m not a spy or whatever you seem to think I am.” The prince of the Lycans was silent for several long moments. Those blue eyes raked over me, studying me, appraising me.