Demonic Crown Novels & Stories

A dead son. A throne that should’ve been his, given instead to his younger brother a man who’d been weak, emotional, easily manipulated. And when Aldric died under suspicious circumstances (poison, everyone whispered, though no one dared say it aloud), the crown had gone to Aldric’s boy. To Daemon, who was even weaker than his father, even more easily corrupted. Now, at three in the morning, with his knees aching against stone worn smooth by centuries of penitence, Marcus received the message.

Seraphine was not visible, which meant Seraphine was in the gallery, which meant she had bought a seat with someone else's name. "Objection!" Diana's voice was clear. She had been practising. "The Ashvale line is extinct. Has been for twenty-one years. There is no Lirien Ashvale. This is a fabrication by the Draeven crown to consolidate founder-line authority." Vance looked at Diana. Vance looked at me. Vance was one of Diana's three bought elders. But Vance was also a politician, and a politician who had been presented with a public objection in a recorded session could not dismiss it without hearing the response.

And for a few fragile hours, it almost succeeded. Gregory Forstfang stood upon the raised dais as the final rites were spoken, his posture flawless, his expression carved into something unreadable and cold. He wore the crown as though it had always belonged to him—dark metal etched with runes old as the Fenraen themselves—and the formal mantle of kingship draped his shoulders with ceremonial weight. A temporary spell lay over him like a second skin, carefully woven by the High Priestess at his side, its magic subtle and precise. Where corruption had crept like black fire along his neck and jaw, the spell smoothed flesh and shadow alike, hiding the truth beneath an illusion of unblemished ski

When I got there, I kneeled and lowered my head. “I greet your majesty, may you be guided by our ancestors and the god of darkness and have an eternal life,” I greeted him. “My demon friends and people… today, we have gathered to celebrate the coronation of my daughter, Princess Clementine, as she now holds the title of this world’s crowned princess… she, who has not been raised here, but demon blood flows in her veins, shall be treated as you treated me with respect… those who shall defy my order, those who shall defy the crowned princess, shall be executed without bidding them forgiveness… I now present to all of you, the heir to my throne, my daughter, Crown Princess Clementine Westernia,

It gleamed in the red light, and its unique shape left me wondering how I’d carry it all the time. I tightened my grip, unwilling to let go, and looked back at Sam. The Wrath demons closed in further, their presence shielding me from the rest of the realm. An elegant crown sat in Sam's hands. Gold swirls intricately intertwined, adorned with small rubies, and at the center sat a large ruby, similar to my necklace. It was a smaller, but far more beautiful version of Sam’s crown. “I hereby crown you Queen of Wrath,” Sam announced, his voice resonating with power. His eyes turned red, and I could sense his inner demon stirring. “Our Queen, our ruler, our ruby.”

“You okay?” She didn’t answer, Because her body was humming, The crown was near, And it was calling her name, The ruin's staircase had collapsed in several places, forcing them to descend using threads of moonlight Liora bent into steps with a flick of her fingers. Aria followed cautiously. Sera brought up the rear, blades drawn, still not fully trusting what Liora had become, They reached the inner sanctum. Black stone. Silver dust. And at its center: an altar of ribs, Upon it sat a crown unlike anything forged by mortal hands. No jewels. No gold. No adornment, Just twisted bone and shimmering flame locked in a loop of endless motion, The Crown of the Hollow Flame Aria fell to her knees.

Five guards surround them, looking ready to kill if one of them so much as breathes in the wrong direction. Samael sits on his throne and I stand next to him, Adrian and Dimitri close behind me. We stare down at the trembling vampires and Samael chuckles, “I should kill you. But if you tell me everything, your life will be spared.” They all begin speaking at once but Samael raises a hand, silencing them immediately. He points to the one in the middle, “talk.” “Lucien made a deal with a witch named Cassandra. She promised him the Dema crown if he helped her gain access into your kingdom. H-he was convinced he would be king, and Damien would be his second in command.”

This competition was held for centuries by The Kulkarni Family, and no one ever tried to break the treaty openly. Demon Knights surely try to kill the Kulkarni family, But they have demon blades made of your blood and heavenly materials. But the most ridiculous thing is that All Demon Knights are trying to find your Crown to become the next Demon Ruler. You know that your Crown alone has the power to create a new world, Right? Because of this, they are doing a ritual with your belongings for ages. So that you can't reincarnate. That's why I parted ways from demons a long time ago.

At her brother’s infected scar and fever-bright eyes. “You’re sick,” she said gently. “The crown’s infection is in your brain. Making you see things that aren’t there.” “I see perfectly clearly.” “No. You see what the crown wants you to see. Even dead, it’s still controlling you.” Doubt flickered across Damon’s face. Just for a second. His chanting wavered. The children’s attacks weakened. They slowed. Looked confused. The First seized the moment. Her chanting grew louder. The shimmer between her and Damon became solid. A barrier of pure will.

Demetrius chipped in, and she clapped her hands enthusiastically. “I knew it! Everyone knows” she sounded really excited. “What else?” She shifted closer to Demetrius. “Ice prince, half human half beast,” Demetrius added, and I angrily jabbed my fork with the plate but nothing moved her. Demetrius spared me a glimpse. She pulled her hands together, showing one to the other in a demonstration. “That's right, the crown prince possesses the blood of a human and a beast, and he is like a mad dog who doesn't know where to bark or when to bark…”