Elven Princess Novels & Stories

Aynyra blinked at the change in the discussion yet answered anyway, "Kala, goddess of war. I suppose that's what makes me able to hold my own, when I call on her abilities." Aynyra was wearing some of Rhae's noble clothes, dressed in a floor-length lilac silk dress with flowers embroidered into the bust. Rhae glanced at her in thought as they exited the house and walked through the noble streets. Nobles who passed recognised the Princess and bowed, casting no suspicion to the Amiran guild member walking beside her. However, some waved down guards and pointed her out in the crowd. Rhae recognised the streets were filled with guards, out looking for the declared missingPrincesss. Rhae sped up

his eyes were now pleading. Taken aback, I did not know what to say. My perfect brother and his perfect wife. Lady Nasrin. Pure blood Elf princess from my mother’s tribe. Always perfect, with her golden skin, plump lips, dark eyes, perfect hair, perfect looks, incredible in every way, always polite, smiling, strong, proper - the perfect Elf, the perfect daughter. Nobody was surprised by their wedding, it all seemed pre-arranged. Rare times I saw them, I could feel the obvious connection they shared, yet it all seemed very transactional and somehow unreal and too “perfect” to me.

I looked at the side that had the mask and nothing, there was not a single scar that showed she could have worn a mask. Does that mean they were lying, and she was pretending to have a scar all along? At this point I don't know what to believe anymore. I felt my heart twing with so much distrust as I looked at her. “I am the princess of DarkEast Moon pack Elodie Martin.” She bowed a little and not only I but everyone in the room seemed to be erupted by her soft speaking and the calm way she carried herself. I blinked twice and again, there was no way this was the same girl that I had seen, that one had a mask and…

With a small smile, he asked, “I was actually hoping that you would be our Luna, Anna. Everyone was. It seems this Lycan princess is as cruel as her beloved. They deserve each other.” So he had also heard the rumors. Somehow, I believed him, but I didn’t appreciate his nosiness. “I was never going to be the Luna. You shouldn’t say those things. You might just lose your head.” He shrugged carelessly. There was something he said that caught my attention. He mentioned that Olivia was a Lycan. How many people knew that? I asked him, “So the princess was always known for her cruelty?” “No,” he said with a thoughtful expression. “It was actually said that she was kind and generous. She abhorred sl

When it came to love, Elves do not take things lightly. Satisfied with her new position, Princess Mariel turned to Prince Ron to start a conversation when she found that she couldn't move. She gazed down and found that her gown had been snagged by prickly vines. She frowned, knowing it was the work of Zedekiel. There weren't any prickly vines on the path before.

"Speak of the devil." I follow his gaze and immediately wish I hadn't. Princess Elara emerges from the palace, accompanied by Lord Caspian of the Eastern Kingdoms. Even from across the courtyard, I can see her animated expression as she speaks, the way she gestures gracefully with her hands. She's wearing that deep blue gown that makes her eyes look like amethysts, and her silver hair catches the morning sunlight like fire. Fucking beautiful. Always has been, even when we were kids and she used to trail after Alexander and me, demanding to be included in our adventures.

she turned to Elara who had been staring at her with keen interest with a smile hanging at both ends of her lip. "I am," Elara answered with a sense of pride in her. "It would be nice to make of your acquaintance Lady Elara, I'm Elora, Alpha princess of the blackwind pack,” she introduced. “Nice to meet you too, princess Elora,” she smiled. “If you don't mind, I’d love to invite you for tea so we could talk more and not let some filth rub off us,” Elora suggested, referring to me as the filth indirectly. Tova growled in my mind, she was annoyed and angry just by the sight of Elora and I had to keep her in check before she lost control and not to mention that she was still trying to recover f

“It’s you?” And just like that, realization hit her. It was electric. Devastating. Undeniable. Every muscle in her body tensed. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “You’re....the Prince of Velmere.” “And you,” I replied, my voice low, “are Princess Elara of Averelle.” She looked at me as if the ground were crumbling beneath her. “Last night…” Her voice wavered. “We didn’t even share our names. We agreed on no strings attached, no consequences.....”

The elven palace was a hive of activity that day, with servants scurrying about to prepare an array of exquisite delicacies. Guards stood at the entrances, meticulously inspecting every arriving guest. The unwed elven women had adorned themselves in their finest attire; most were eager to capture the heart of Prince Xavier, who was to choose his thirteenth consort that day.

"How... maternal you look." Behind her, Princess Evelynn glided in wearing midnight black, her ruby mouth curved in a smile that promised trouble. Where Ivora was ice, Evelynn was the kind of venom that enjoyed itself — beautiful, deliberate, amused by her own cruelty in a way that made her more dangerous than someone who felt guilt about it. Then came Second Prince Lucian.