Freya Nelson Is His Rule Novels & Stories

He reunited the two creatures just in one night. I look around to see my dad, Chester beside Maynard. The two are displeased but couldn't do anything. Whether they like it or not Lycan will rule. All of a sudden I felt the hand on my arm and I turn swiftly to see a man, much older before me. He has the grace of a ruler. His hair white and a little bit longer. His lips red and his eyes of green colour. Dazzling should describe him and his ears are pointed. I get the idea of who he is at once and I shuddered. King Frey.

I didn't move,I stood in the center of the room, my hands clasped loosely in front of me, matching his heavy, silent presence with my own unyielding wall. When he finally lifted his head, his piercing, dark gaze locked onto mine. It was an instant clash. The air in the room grew dense, a silent power struggle vibrating between us. He was an apex predator accustomed to people bowing the moment he looked at them, but I refused to bend. I held his gaze pound for pound, hiding the slight tremor of intimidation beneath a layer of absolute, defensive armor. Neither of us spoke for a long, heavy beat. "Miss Hale," he said finally, breaking the silence.

“What! You can't do that. That's cheating and not the rules.” Freya voiced out loud. “Were there rules on this? The only rule was that if you got the three riddles correctly, you'll be able to see the eyes when I show you myself. And now that you've gotten it, I don't want to show you. So, it means you can't see it.” He uttered and laughed out loud like a maniac. But from those words, Freya knew already what to do.

I set the goblet down, and the impact echoed across the table making Freya flinch. “What exactly did you mean by a woman like her?” Freya hesitated. Her lips parted, then closed again. I could see the flicker of regret cross her face before she even spoke. “She’s a former Luna. Kallias Thorn’s ex-Luna. And you’re taking Kallias’s ex-" “Freya,” I interrupted, "Do you remember the first rule?” Her eyes widened slightly. “Y-yes…” “And yet,” I continued, leaning back in my chair, “you choose to comment on Winter, the woman I chose. You don’t get to speak of her that way.”

Third Person POV Five Years Later A pack of ten children tore through the gardens of Eradrakor. Hatchlings, pups, witches, and hybrids—their small feet padded softly against the earth, and their melodic giggles filled the warm summer air. Leading the charge was Renata, the natural leader of every mischief, followed closely by her brother, Fenris. Even at five years old, Fenris moved with a gravity that suggested he already owned the world. He was, after all, the child of prophecy—the strongest creature ever born. The "Golden Boy" often received special treatment from the court, much to Mira’s lingering displeasure.

“That works for beasts. Not for warriors.” I held her gaze, refusing to flinch as she studied me. “First rule,” she said. “You have to gain balance.” Before I could even ask what she meant, her leg swept out fast. I barely registered the movement before my feet were knocked from under me and I hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through my bones. A gasp tore out of me. “You’re too slow,” Freya said calmly. Pain flared in my elbow as I pushed myself up, glaring at her. “You didn’t even warn me!”

Before the window went up, I heard him say, “I won’t let you down.” On the drive back to the estate, fog was rolling over the sea. I leaned back in the rear seat, watching the blurred city lights through the window. For the first time in a long time, it felt like the city had finally quieted. Drake had fallen, Lina had gone mad, and the elders had quieted, at least for now. However, I knew the story was far from over. New York was a city filled with ambition and men who all believed that if they bit hard enough, they could wrest the throne from my hands. Yet, they forgot one thing: the throne was never something anyone could take. I had taken it, bullet by bullet, with my own hands.

Selena said, a trace of pride curling at the edge of her mouth. “He didn’t beg for their loyalty. He didn’t plead. He took it. And when he did, he made a choice: the corrupt ones—the ones who had fed the chaos, the ones who wanted to rule so badly, who wanted power so badly —they would get their own territory. Their own mess. But it would be under his rule.” “A kingdom divided,” Elara whispered.

staying inside it was getting suffocating for him, each breath full of suffering. Walking passed by the fainted protectors, he had his chest filled with pride. And now Nathan was lifeless in this night of the eclipse, he can be the ruler. The kingdom of Thralia belongs to him and only him. Standing on the roof of the bricked castle, he laughed hysterically when the thunder roared giving the purplish lightning.

Meanwhile, Suna followed from his back, also walking slowly. Giving them a last glance, Saul then stepped forward to the edge of the stage and raised both of his hands, letting himself bask in the glory of his brilliance. That’s right, he should be the one to rule Rustaval. Not some king who’s wet behind the ears. Nilam, the king’s late father, caught him off guard once before when he prepared a will right before his death, so his son could become the king, and not him. But this time, victory will be his. He will become the new king of Rustaval. He will abolish the new laws of multiracial society, and kill the rest of the citizens who weren’t elves and those who didn’t accept him. Then he’ll