Double Execution Where The King Takes Revenge Novels & Stories

Moving back behind the counter without another word, she begins working on coffee. Turning my attention back to the King, I smile. “What?” He asks with a blush. “You introduced me to your grandmother.” “I know I said I would introduce you to Theo, but I wanted to have a moment alone with you, and I promised Mom that I would introduce you to her.” “She is more important right now. If it was a promise to your mom, say no more.” Following the King, we move to a table near the window and lookout. Above the buildings, we can see the top of the fire blazing. “Would you have killed my boys for that fire?” The words fell from my lips in fear of the answer. If I wanted to hear it or not, I needed to

I continued, “I won’t waste time throwing you around so people can admire how hard you fought. I’ll drive my fucking fist into your stomach, pull your insides out, and feed them back to you while you’re still alive.” The King’s throat bobbed. “Do you understand me?” For a long second he simply stared. Then, with remarkable speed for a man who ruled an entire Kingdom, he nodded. Once. Twice. Like a frightened child desperate to avoid another scolding. “Good.” Satisfied, I kept hold of his vest and turned, intending to drag him back toward the inner courtyards. He knew this Palace better than anyone alive, and if anyone could tell me who had ordered my father’s execution— or why, it was him.

With one ruthless, brutal motion, Lawrence smashed the man’s body against the stone fireplace so violently that the traitor’s skull split open on impact, leaving the lifeless body to collapse onto the burning embers. The last executioner still alive in the room, seeing the massacre and realizing he had underestimated the King’s protective instinct, threw his sword to the floor and backed away on his knees toward the window, begging for mercy in a voice broken by panic. Lawrence advanced toward him with slow, heavy steps, leaving a trail of bloody footprints across the carpet. His claws were fully extended, and his Herculean chest rose and fell with savage, animalistic breaths. Without blinki

He just stared back at me, his expression cold, like he actually thought I deserved it for hitting her. The three of us froze there in a standoff, but his parents didn't. They rushed in like a storm. Dave West's fist slammed straight into Hendrick's face. Julie West followed with a sharp slap that sent Linda crashing to the floor. "What is wrong with you two?" she snapped. "Do you even hear yourselves?" Hendrick and Linda were both stunned. Linda tried to say something, but Julie grabbed her by the hair and dragged her toward the door, kicking her out without hesitation.

The assassin coughed, blood spilling from their lips—but they were still smiling. “You’re late.” The King stepped forward slowly. Each movement controlled. Calculated. Terrifying. “I’m right on time.” The assassin lunged again— Desperate now. Reckless. They didn’t make it halfway. The King moved faster than Aria could track. One second, he was standing still— The next— He had the attacker by the throat. Lifting them effortlessly. Crushing. The assassin struggled, clawing at his grip, their weapon falling uselessly to the floor.

"If I catch you conspiring behind my back again, there won't be a second chance." Elijah storms inside, leaving Vincent and me behind. With unsteady steps, Vincent helps me to my feet. I can see the grief clouding his face. "I'm sorry, Vincent," I say, feeling a wave of guilt. "This is my fault, my queen. I deserve King Elijah's punishment." Vincent forces a bitter smile. "King Elijah is a merciful king. If he were like the others, I wouldn't be alive." A shiver runs down my spine. Are the other kings crueler and barbaric?

I queried confidently, directing everyone's attention towards the king, awaiting his response. The room remained frozen in suspense, each person holding their breath, desperate for the king's decision. The king's voice quivered as he struggled to find his words. "It... It is not. You won't be an acting queen, is that taken?" Elder Thomas couldn't hide his joyous relief as he seized the opportunity. "Good! You heard that, Melina. You are not an acting queen, so get out of here," he declared, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. The other elders joined in the expression of elation, as the king solidified their position.

The liquid hissed softly as it coated the spikes, its poisonous nature evident from the acrid scent that filled the room. The executioner’s eyes widened in terror, his face draining of color. He scrambled forward on his knees, his trembling hands reaching out in desperation. “Your Highness! Please, no! I was just following orders—Alpha King Thomas orders! I swear, I didn’t poison your mate! I didn’t know! Please believe me!” Hudson’s hand paused mid-motion, the whip dripping with the venomous liquid. His gaze locked onto the man, . “You dare invoke your loyalty to your Alpha king as an excuse?” He growled.

I couldn't relate to their stupidity. "Are they dumb? Two people cannot be king at the same time— —whoever said they wanted to be Kings. They are just Salvatore's underlings. He's the one in charge." The glass in my hand fell to the ground. "Salvatore's alive?" "No. His son is. And he's back for revenge. I found out three weeks ago, and that's why I stepped out from the shadows. I never stopped searching like the rest, so when the news came, it wasn't too much of a shock."

“You expect me to sit on a throne and make promises while my sister’s out there—alone? In chains?” “The kingdom suffers, too,” Marcellus said. “The people lose faith.” I dug my fingers into the table, splintering the wood beneath my grip. My wolf bristled just under my skin, itching for blood. Silence fell. Then Rivas, calm and deliberate, spoke: “We expect you to be king.” Her words rang through the room, heavy as judgment. I stepped back from the table. My chair scraped across the stone. “I’ll find her.”