Fierce King Novels & Stories

His frustration with their cowardice mingled with his own grief over Rogers' death, fueling the inferno of anger within him. "You should have fought! You should have given everything to avenge Rogers!" King Rico's words lashed out like a whip, the intensity of his emotions seeping into every syllable. "But you returned here, leaving his killer to roam free. How can I call you my loyal subjects if you fail even in the face of adversity?" The werewolves glanced at each other, their hearts pounding in their chests. They knew their king's fury was justified, but they also knew they had underestimated the strength of their opponent. The masked warrior's abilities were otherworldly, and they feare

The crimson in his eyes flickered, the fire receding until a sliver of Eilis’s warm gold began to bleed through the red. He pressed his massive head into my palm, a heavy. The silence in the room was absolute. Even Arden looked stunned. Then, from the high throne, the King began to clap. "Impressive," the King said, his voice sounding prideful. "But let us see if he can stay that way when the blood starts to flow." He flicked his wrist, and a door on the far side of the chamber grated open. Three massive, scarred wolves—enforcers of the Council—stepped out, their hackles raised and their eyes locked on the Feral Prince.

Not with his mate, Irene fighting behind him. Not with the rage burning in his heart and his people watching. Not with the weight of centuries pressing on his spine. He leapt over a burning barricade and slammed his shoulder into a shrieking creature, cracking its jaw with his elbow before driving his claws into its heart. Another came, he cleaved it in two with a single stroke. The circle continued over and over again. The king stood just beyond the carnage, calm and monstrous. His eyes were deep, hollow, and expressionless as though he were merely a spectator and not part of the battle unraveling around him.

the King spat, his voice low and venomous, barely human in its fury. I met his gaze, unflinching. “No,” I replied, my voice like ice. “I believe you erased her from your heart the moment she stopped serving your purpose. Just as you’re trying to erase Ashina now and discard her like something disposable.” The accusation struck a nerve. With a guttural snarl that sounded more beast than man, the King lifted the whip with a wild rage in his eyes. His movements were savage, unrestrained, and ruled by raw fury.

"It's glad to know your fierce spirit hasn't been broken." "You will remain nothing but an animal to me, Ashton. An animal!" "Yes, I heard you the first time." I waved him off, coolly. I am still reeling from the excitement of becoming a father I most likely won't take him too seriously. "I merely want to know why you sent your men to invade my territoty on a special day in my pack. You killed my best friend." "You are such a foolish King you do not even know what happens under your nose. Oh..." He began chuckling deriliously. "...I get it. The King fell in love and fell out of wisdom." I was still grinning, despite dreaming of ripping his heart out.

I am so royally f*cked, and not in a good way. "Tell me," the king says, "Do you know of the rumors about me?" What an odd thing to ask. "The half-wolf rumors?" I say. "Sure, who hasn't? People like to talk." "They're all true." Huh? True? Is the king actually insane? Sexy and crazy? Not my favorite combination, I have to admit. "I'm a shifter, Hera," he says. "I have no idea what that's supposed to mean," I respond.

I force myself to scan the faces around the table, memorising the monsters I am trapped with. There is Gage, the Red King. He sits perfectly still, his eyes tracking every twitch of my fingers. You cannot lie to him. He spots a fabrication from a mile away. I tried it once, and he nearly tore my throat out for the insult. Beside him is Kaycen, the Black King. He is a weapon in a tailored suit. His line is famous for combat, moving so fast they react to a challenger's strike before the blow is even thrown. Then there is Isac, the Blue King. He is lounging back, a sickening smirk playing on his lips. The rumours say his kind can hold their breath underwater for hours, but right now, he just lo

I asked with a raised eyebrow, but the blonde-haired one just looked away. "I... didn’t want to wake you..." What a silly thing! How could she insist on that kind of thing? At times like these I wondered if that was really the story I had read, because neither Callisto nor Elaine acted according to their roles. The cruel king who despised his concubine and loved only the saint and his deceased wife - now seemed to detest the saint he should love and, At the same time, he had so much zeal for his concubine that he almost snapped and forced the princess of one of his territories and also the sister of his late wife, to near death.

So I had to believe that one day it would all be fine. **** After much preparation and anticipation, they were finally setting off to the capital where the Lycan's King mating ball would be held in his grand mansion. I sat beside the Coachman whereas Olivia, Amira, and Max stayed inside the carriage. This was the first time I was leaving my pack and heading to the capital, so it was no wonder that my stomach was filled with butterflies. After all, I knew all about the tyrant Lycan king Alaric. There were countless rumors surrounding him, from slaying an entire pack himself, to killing his family for power and to having a hideous appearance befitting someone cursed.

King Leonardo said looking at Kiara, though his eyes were now frightened as if he was just caught, I looked at Ian who seemed to be on the verge of slitting the king’s throat, though I could tell that he was trying to keep himself composed, King Leonardo’s heart was racing against his ribcage as if threatening to get out of his chest and run. “You’re a bloody prick” Kiara said looking at him, her voice dripping with disgust, I frowned not understanding what she was talking about, but whatever it was Ian seemed to know about it as he did not look confused or phased by what she was talking about, only angry at the king who was held down by my two guards, his guards were in the dungeon until it