Demonic Crown Novels & Stories

“The witch is dead, her blood is gone, my father’s lab is next, we burn it, we break the rest of his work, you get your minds back.” Murmurs. Hope. Draven steps to me, careful. “The crown,” he says. “Can you take it off.” I touch it. It burns. “I don’t know.” “Try,” he says. “For me.” I pull. Pain rips through my skull, and the crown comes away, blood on the tines. It crumbles to ash in my hand. The ferals gasp, some falling, some crying, as if a string got cut.

LUCIEN'S POV One of the ancient ones approached the altar and knelt before Daisy. In its hands was a crown made of black metal and red jewels. The Crown of Dominion. But like the staff, it had been transformed by dark magic. Instead of silver light, it radiated shadows. "Your crown, my lady," the ancient one said. Daisy took the crown and placed it on her head. The moment it touched her skin, the entire world seemed to shift. The air became thick and hard to breathe. The temperature dropped so fast that frost began forming on the castle windows.

Asura explained the process of making Anala's sword. "A crown? What can a crown do? It's not made of the strongest metal, is it?" Arya Santanu was confused. "The crown of hell comes from a mixture of the blood of the former kings of hell. And the metal that makes the crown is mixed with the bones of the former kings. I melted it so that the weapon formed from the crown could destroy all forms of demons from hell." Asura explained again. Arya Santanu had just understood it. He felt very tired and finally lay down on the ground.

But right before the madness could sink its fangs into my senses, I snapped back into control. Panting slowly, I shut my eyes tight to fight with the pounding ache in my head. Unlike the predecessors, I limited my contact with this room, starving the throne, so it compensated by assaulting out as much power from me as it could when it had a chance. I struggled to monitor the pack while fighting the shadows that battled to break into me and reach Icifer. Once they got a hold of him, it would be the end for me because Icifer was a Crown demon. It was in his nature to desire limitless power and control.

“The second seal has cracked. Memory wakes. Blood remembers. The crown stirs beneath the mountain.” “Congratulations. You used many creepy words and answered nothing.” A hiss moved through the rogues outside. Not anger. Amusement. Great. Apparently nightmare creatures enjoyed sarcasm. Love that journey for me. The rogue lowered its head farther. “The crown requires blood.” Damien snarled. “Do not listen to it.” I glanced back at him. “You have said that about basically every source of information in this house, and so far the evil notebook has been more forthcoming.”

Mira looked at me. Really looked. For the first time. Her hatred wavered. Then Damien moved. Not toward her. Toward the white gown. He picked up the silver crown from its folded bodice. The hall went silent. I went cold. The bond inside me flared with Cassian’s alarm. Damien held the crown delicately. “You speak beautifully, Lena. Truly. But all of this hinges on one impossible claim. That I killed you in this hall.” The wolves watched. He descended from the dais with the crown in hand.

Dione is a gambling addict and wants to take risks not minding what he is putting in the line. Atticus, a hybrid. He was born as a necromancer that devours supernatural strength and turns it into his own mana to cast a spell. He was shunned by his coven in Gehena because no necromancer relies on the strength of others to cast a spell, and they believe that he was cursed, however, that is not what it is. He was turned into a vampire by Dorian almost the same time when Elliot turned Isaac. He draws his mana from the strength of the vampire that lies beneath him being able to cast a powerful spell enough to finish his enemies in one blow. His spells rival Azazel's, and he can beat Lucas anytime

I’ll be the crown. I cut a rune into the pedestal, blood-ink from my palm, the crown amplifying it. The shade-storm grows, shadows scratching the walls, cracking stone. I pull a scroll from my gown, inked with my orders: Crown me, or the Dominion burns. I toss it to Dante. “Get this to the council. Now.” He catches it, pausing. “You’re sure? If they turn on you—” “They won’t,” I cut in, aura flaring, knocking him back. “They’ll see Perez’s chaos and choose me. Go.”

She will become Persephone, and regarding the imitation that the king has in that cage, she would find the perfect time to get rid of it The omnipotent demon stretched its arms up and commanded the earth to be open. The ground split in two with a deafening roar. From the centre, a pointy silver object emerged, the crown of Persephone. The power that was given off by this object was overwhelming. Everyone present had their attention on the crown. In that memento, near to the throne of thorns, nobody saw either how the king's wife writhed in pain in the crystal box. The coronation was so incredible and majestic, that not even the four horsemen of the apocalypse could look away.

The elder approached with a crown that seemed to pulse with its own inner light, diamond work set with stones that looked like trapped flames. "With this crown," the Elder lifted the crown, ”I Derek, 4th member of The Order, name thee Luna Aquamarine of Theriakon Pack, protector of the realm, keeper of the ancient ways and Primus Alexander's fated mate." The crown settled on my head, and immediately I felt a rush of something within me, just like when I touched the staff earlier, but this time, I felt fire flow from the tip of my hair to the sole of my feet.