Goth Princesses Novels & Stories

I started, but she cut me off by lifting her hand to my face, and the only reason I didn't slap it away was that she was royalty. "No. I don't listen to outsiders and to people like you. I believe that you have knowledge about my engagement with the prince but, nonetheless, you came onto him!" "Where's your proof of that?" I asked, now folding my arms to control myself. "Oh, I will... I do have... I want to hear you confess with that mouth of yours!" I laughed and shook my head at her. Of course gossip would start about Sebastian and myself, I had been expecting such, but Princess Naomi had no proof. She just wanted me to fold at her presence because of her title.

Two of them were a part of the four that checked on her. "Oh look it's the Princess." one said. "You best be glad that you got yourself a Prince." "And you best count your days. Because I can guarantee you won't be alive in the next week." she bit back. He got up from the couch and walked towards her. "Huh? What'd you say bitch?" Aurora sneered. "God you smell like a dog house. It would be a good thing to kill you after all." "What?!" "Cut it out," Caden said and glared at the man.

If we want to have some peace finally returned to our lands, your safety is the most important thing to the world of supernatural creatures as you and I. Now all I could do was stare at her in confusion. Did she mistake me for someone? But she did address me as the ruthless princess. Were there more princesses around the world? “I am sorry madam, but you have the wrong person. I have no idea what you are talking about, and I am sure I can not help you.” That smile on her face still did not waver! What the fuck is wrong with this woman? Either she is crazy, or she is crazy evil, one way or another she is crazy, “I am sure I have the right person standing in front of me. After all there is onl

In a kingdom named Drachentia, there lived a kind-hearted Princess that earned the nickname Drachentia Kingdom’s Winter Flower. Born from the esteemed Duke of Mountravven family. Her name is Fuschia Mountravven. However, after becoming a Crown Princess, her nature was exposed.

But in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Lyra would belong to her, just as Veyron did. The three of them would burn together, bound by both magic and fate. Lyra had already begun to surrender. A ripple of satisfaction coursed through her as she traced the crystal’s surface. A rustle of fabric behind her pulled her attention away. A group of women entered, heads bowed, bare feet silent against the cavern floor. They knelt before her, draped in deep purple silks that clung to their bodies, their glowing eyes lifted in reverence. Their hair cascaded down their backs like waterfalls of midnight and moonlight.

"My King, when will we have a piece of her? I'm aching all over to personally whip her till she has no more blood to give out. The rest of the royal council are also requesting a date for her special torment." There was an underlying meaning in his words. It wasn’t just about the pain they would cause her. It was about the pleasure they could wring dry from her after all, she was said to be the most beautiful princess with black hair that shamed even the darkest raven and skin that brightly contrasted her hair so much. Of course, everyone wanted a piece of her. Only, it was never going to happen. No one knew the real reason why she was the price for the sins of her people and no one needed t

Beneath her name, a single word was stamped in bold, stark font: DECEASED. I opened the next. Princess Marianne of the Crescent Moon Pack. A high-ranking Alpha’s daughter with deep, soulful eyes and an elegant posture. DECEASED. Elena. An Alpha's daughter from the western plains. MISSING. Victoria. A beautiful Lycan princess. MYSTERIOUSLY ILL / DECEASED. I went through them one by one. Ten profiles. Ten breathtakingly beautiful women who he had all slept with, all from prestigious bloodlines, all daughters of Alphas, kings, or powerful Lycan lords. And every single one of them was gone.

“He can go to hell. All of them, actually.” Zuri clutches her heart dramatically, dropping onto her empty bed, sighing at the ceiling. “Girl, we’re talking about the infamous, sexy, wealthy, ridiculously top-tier princes of Crestbane, who are now behaving like they just got bitten by a love bug, your love bug. You should be excited to be mated to the highest-ranked Nobles of all time! The four of them…at your beck and call. You have a pack to yourself, Beth!” I look away. “They're neither my mates nor my pack.”

Yet, despite the darkness that lingered, her spirit remained untouched by the curse's malevolence. As she grew, the unnamed princess became a beacon of innocence and purity, a living contradiction to the shadows that threatened to engulf her. Her laughter echoed through the stone corridors of the lycan palace, a melody that resonated with the hearts of those who beheld her. The lycan subjects, captivated by her untamed radiance, couldn't help but be drawn to the enigma she represented.

She heard some maidens whispering and sniggering among the people crowding both sides of the path to welcome the Queen and she had no doubt that they were talking about her – the bastard princess reduced to a serving wench. "Isn't that the scandalous seed of the late King Adolf?" An unmated girl called Stella was whispering to the other, the Alpha's daughter known as Claire and who was probably the most beautiful unmated maiden in the Pragoth but infamous to be rather haughty and overbearing. "The half-nymph princess subjected to the life of a low life because her mother committed suicide?" Stella asked in curiosity. "Unfortunately, she is," Claire said. "I've heard of her so-called beauty,