Emilia Knight Novels & Stories

Each step echoed with unfinished stories. They found Emilia first. She was alone in the makeshift command room, frantically typing on a terminal. Her eyes widened when she turned and froze. “You’re too late,” she spat. Adrian was on her before she could move. One twist of the wrist and she was pinned to the wall. “Where is she?” he growled. “You’ll never find her in time.” Amelia stepped forward. “She’s here. And she’s bleeding.” Emilia’s gaze flicked to her. There was a tremble in her jaw. “She wanted me to disappear. Said if I failed again, she’d kill me.”

The vibrant, loving girl I once knew was now a shadow of herself. She hummed, releasing her fingers, which were now bleeding. I hastily grabbed tissues from my drawer to stem the blood. "Why are you inflicting pain on yourself?" I asked, concern etched on my face. Emilia waved me off. "It's nothing, an old habit." Her gaze turned serious. "We have more pressing concerns, like Katherine." My brow furrowed in confusion. "What about Katherine?" Emilia rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Finding her, of course! As an Omega rogue, she's in grave danger."

she began, voice low and wistful, “there was a girl with nothing. No money. No direction. Just pain, broken dreams, and a heart too full to be noticed.” Maxine sat up now, curious. “Did she have a crown?” “No,” Emilia smiled. “She had calloused hands and a job she hated. But she also had books. And a stubborn spark that wouldn’t let her stop dreaming.” “Then what?” Emilio asked. “Then she met a beast.” Maxine’s eyes widened. “A real beast? Like growl and claws?” “Worse,” Emilia teased. “He had walls higher than towers and scars deeper than any wound. He was angry and lost and wore suits that fit too well.”

I asked, Leaning on the door frame, a smirk played on my lips “That isn't of my concern” but her smile didn't soften “I need to speak with Emery’’ She gave me a glare sharp enough to slice through my bones and said flatly “She's not here” I arched my brow. “Don’t lie to me.” Mila crossed her arms. “And if I’m not? What are you going to do, Killian? Manipulate her again?” My jaw clenched. “I didn’t manipulate her.” She laughed bitterly. “You leaked those photos. You set her up. You let her believe she was falling for someone who actually gave a damn.”

Liam replied. "We are going out later today. Get the carriage ready." "Yes, my Lord." Liam replied and bowed. He then turned and left the room. * Princess Emilia walked around in the room, thinking deeply. She sniffed and wiped her face. She had been crying ever since her dad left, over the thought of Lorenzo's rejection. She stared angrily at the floor, scheming up new plans. Come what may, she must have the master. "This is a fight and I will never back down. Lorenzo is mine." She said evilly to herself.

“Well… this is the location you gave me.” I blink. Then look at the house again. “Of course.” A pause. “Right.” Because naturally. Why would River Knight live in a normal house when he could apparently reside in his own private kingdom? I pay the driver, grab my bag, and climb out of the car. The moment my feet hit the driveway, I look up at the enormous estate again. “Unbelievable.” Of course the asshole has a fucking castle. A man in a dark uniform steps forward. “Miss Emerson?”

Yet, here she was, drawn back by a cryptic letter from an unknown sender. Emilia is a vibrant 23-year-old with an infectious zest for life. She stands at an average height of 5'6" with a slender, athletic build that spoke to her active lifestyle. Her warm, olive-toned skin glowed with health, complemented by her deep brown eyes that radiated warmth and intelligence. Emilia's long, dark hair cascaded in soft waves down her back, often tucked behind her ears to reveal a pair of simple, elegant earrings. Her style is a mix of casual chic and bohemian flair, often seen in flowy dresses or well-fitted jeans paired with colorful, patterned tops. Emilia’s smile is her most striking feature, lightin

“That’s where you’re wrong. He isn’t a knight. He’s a king. And he doesn’t lose what’s his.” Dimitri stopped. The smirk faded. “You sound so sure,” he murmured. “I know him,” she said, each word sharp as glass. There was fire in her now—low, burning steady. Not just survival. Defiance. Dimitri leaned in, his voice low. “Do you think he’ll still want you, once I’m done breaking you?” Emilia leaned forward too, eyes never leaving his. “I think,” she said slowly, “he’ll burn you alive before you get the chance.”

Margarette left the story of how Ellaine’s voice distracted the serious Finrod unsaid. It drew the concern of the Queen. She roamed her eyes over Finrod’s body in search of cuts and wounds. “I’m fine sister.” “He was scratched with poisoned claws due to his carelessness,” Ellaine blurted before she realized what she did. She blushed in shame. “Your highness.” The Queen turned to her, “What’s your name?” “My name’s Ellaine, Queen Aera.” She can’t meet the queen’s eyes due to shame. “You were on Earth with my brother?”

His head buzzed with anger, his chest burned with the weight of his father’s scorn. He needed air. He needed space. He needed— The scent hit him like lightning. Warm bread. Soap. Wildflowers after rain. His wolf stilled, ears pricking, nose lifting. His pulse spiked, heat flaring low in his belly. Her. Damien slowed, his breath catching, as Emilia stepped from the shadows. She wore a simple cotton dress, her hair dark and loose around her shoulders. She was the maid’s daughter, meant to go unseen, meant to keep her eyes lowered, meant to move silently through the halls of the Blackfang estate like a shadow.