Duchess Rowena Novels & Stories

Cassian cut down an assassin who lunged too close, his blade flashing like silver fire. Another serpent charged at me, dagger raised. I twisted aside, seizing his wrist and driving his own blade into his chest with cold precision. He crumpled at my feet, his blood soaking into the dust. Gasps rippled through the crowd. The duchess is fighting once again not cowering, not fleeing, but standing. The serpents hissed curses, their leader snarling from atop a stall. “You will not wear the crown, Valcrest! Your blood will drown it!”

Bella lunged from the floor, charging at me with the fury of a crazed harpy. "Joanna, you barren freak! You were jealous! You were jealous I could give Lorenzo an heir, so you killed him!" Her face, caked in makeup, twisted into something monstrous, her smirk hidden beneath a shroud of fake tears. "A low-life doctor like this should be lynched! Lorenzo, look at her! This is the 'good woman' you’ve pampered for seven years—she personally slaughtered your bloodline!" As she screamed, she grabbed a nearby IV stand and swung it at me with murderous intent.

He was pointing the arrow at Kerrigan. The eagle was still destroying the last invocate’s face, so he was too distracted. “Rowena!” I shouted. “Nine O’clock!” I left Rowena to handle it as I ran for the invocate that was about to attack Roman and Oisin. Rowena reached for a nearby tree, and she pulled out a dark green bow and an arrow as if out of thin air. She notched the arrow and fired. Her speed was many times faster than the greatest recorded among the hunters.

“…Duke of Avalon. Yes, that’s it. The old master called him Duke of Avalon. It seemed like he wasn’t from Antacast and was some foreign nobility. The old master told me that he was some dangerous man. Do you know anything about him, old mistress?” Nevertheless, after hearing the words of Lili, the old lady suddenly stood up from her seat. Her expression froze and slowly darkened as if she had heard a piece of horrible news. She then let out a helpless whimper. “The Duke of Avalon. S-So it was the Butcher of the North.” “Butcher what?” Lili rubbed her ears, wondering if she had heard it right. “The Butcher of the North.” The old headmistress fell back in her seat. She let out a dry chuckle an

"I built the whole thing for you. The enraged king, flying down to die noble on my deck. And she picked it apart like it was a bad contract." "She reads them for a living," I said. "You put a crown on that one, St. James." Crowe turned the rum glass slowly, watching the amber tilt. "She's smarter than her daddy and colder than you. She'll own this whole coast in ten years. You know that, right? You know what you've got." "I know exactly what I've got."

When I’m not. These women probably ran the whole supernatural world. While the men were always roaring and yelling in each other’s face about who is who. I know women are the key players in that game of chess. If the queen is protected. Everything is going well and you can make great moves. And when shit goes south, the queen protects the king. I’m guessing this is where you get your warriors and foot soldiers for protection. “The one and only,” Daciana smirks proudly. “Wait, I have heard that he was with someone. The daughter of that small pack’s alpha.” She stares at me with widened eyes. “It makes sense now. I have never seen someone as pretty as her.”

His ears rang when he heard the great Baroness's impossible condition. "No. I will not do that!" Chris growled at the woman across him. She seems to grow horns right before his eyes. The violent reaction by Chris Duvier illicit fear in the older woman's heart. Did her calculation about Duvier wanting the castle have been wrong? She hid her doubts quickly before the young man could sense her fear. She needs to act fast before she loses him.

Head Maid Greta soon orders us to stand against the walls as I hear a chorus of feminine voices drift down the hall. The girls come in, one by one. Walking among them is a royal woman who appears to be too old to be in the tournament. She is my choice for Head Lady. The royal family follows them in, and as Kohl eventually goes beneath the door, I can feel the silence descend upon the room. Though the circles around his eyes appear darker than they were last night, he appears exactly the same. He approaches the three thrones arranged to the side with his parents and takes a seat in the middle. The females laugh and talk among themselves.

I had no idea she was even connected to this world outside the Moonbeam Pack. I tried to avoid her, but before I could turn away, she stepped into my path. “Well, well, well.” She sneered. “Look who’s playing dress up.” I clenched my fists at my sides, willing myself to stay calm. “I don’t know you,” I said, my voice steady. “Please excuse me.” Her lip curled into a cruel smile. “Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t remember me, Rowena. The rejected Luna. The murderer.”

A voice—cool as glacier wine—cut through the velvet noise. “Enjoying the illusion, dear?” We turned. Standing a few feet away in a dress that looked like it had been sewn from crushed emeralds and other people’s misery was Duchess Gloria Wintermellon. Yes, Wintermellon. No, I couldn’t say it with a straight face either, but this woman looked like she hadn’t smiled since the last solar eclipse. Sharp cheekbones. A fan made of peacock feathers. A smile dipped in venom. She didn’t even look at me when she said, “Lady MacMayer, I suggest you remove your hand from the Duke. It’s rather unbecoming to cling to a man who is already promised.”