Romans & histoires Guardian King Of The North

If this idiot attacks me, I don’t think I will be able to reach either side. “ It’s the King of the North. ” He utters. “Hm?” I hum absentmindedly while mapping out routes for escape. “The King of the North has been reborn. That’s what Karlias says. And this time, he will ensure we get what we have deserved for a long time.” The warrior takes another step closer, his eyes reflecting a strange kind of madness. “And what is it that you think you deserve?” I ask, confused as to why he is targeting me specifically.

The razor sharp steel kissed my throat, forcing my head up to look him dead in the eye. The frantic, nervous advisor from the royal sanctuary and throne room was gone. And in his place sat a cold blooded Lycan soldier. This was the man who kept the Monster of the North on his throne. The King’s Watchdog. "Do not mistake the King’s desperation for mercy, girl," Marcus whispered, his voice flat and deadly calm. "The orchid will be ready when we return." "And if it's a trick?" I choked out, feeling the blade nick my skin.

My legs began to shake violently under the sudden weight of the aura, my inner wolf whining in pure terror inside my mind as it tried to force me to submit. “Who is there,” I managed to growl, my chest burning as I forced the words out against the heavy pressure. “Show your face.” A tall, broad shouldered man stepped out from the deep shadows of the vault corner, his movements slow and powerful. He wore a heavy grey fur coat that made his massive frame look like a mountain. His face was lined with deep, old battle scars, and his silver hair was cropped short against his head. It was Silas Winslow, the King of the North.

"Perhaps I simply enjoy spending time with beautiful women." "You had to travel this far to find a beautiful woman? The city sounds terrible, my king." His lips parted to reply, still holding the whisper of a smile, before one of his guards appeared out of the brush. "King Eden! We've secured the area. The Ipsit invaders have been returned to their side of the border." Eden's mask returned as he gave orders to the soldier. Violet watched the king return, stiff shoulders, commanding voice, every inch the responsible Monarch. She wondered what else he hid beneath the mask of royalty.

Cordelia said out of excitement, unable to stop herself from hopping around while playing with her axe. "Are we allowed to take our guardians with us?" Nowo asked them. Alasdair nodded his head, "Of course. You are now allowed to bring them into all of your future battles, even now." Nowo couldn't help but smile, knowing that she is able to bring her sweet guardian with her. "That would be nice. Thank you." The king started flashing an unfamiliar slight smile on his face. The king couldn't deny that the resemblance of her parents can now be seen on her.

The thunder that rolled over the Blood Kingdom that night never left. It simply changed form into whispers, into frost, into the silence that now ruled the halls of power. Bianca sat upon the high chair of obsidian, the one her father once called the throne of bones, and listened to another round of petitions. Her crown a circlet of blackened steel and garnet glimmered like fresh blood beneath the chamber lights. “Governor Tenebris failed to meet his quota,” one of the ministers reported. “Two shipments lost in transit. He claims rebel interference.”

"I haven't decided which part of you I’m going to burn first." Kael’s eyes opened a sliver. The silver mist in his pupils was thick. "Thank... you... Aria..." he wheezed through the link. "Don't call me that," I snapped. Outside, the first howl of the Northern vanguards—the ones who had seceded—echoed through the shafts. The world was coming for its King, but the King was busy trying to keep his Mother from turning into stone.

Kaelen stepped inside his father’s guard and drove his sword straight through the man’s chest. “This is for my mother,” Kaelen whispered. The Council Leader gasped. His black eyes widened in disbelief. He stared at his son, then at me, before the light finally faded from his gaze. He collapsed into the snow, dead. The silence was absolute. The remaining Northern Council soldiers stared at the lifeless body of the tyrant who had ruled them with fear. Slowly, the clatter of dropped weapons echoed across the tundra. Spears, swords, and shields hit the frozen earth. One by one, the soldiers dropped to their knees, bowing their heads in surrender. They swore loyalty to me, their voices trembling

"But as much as I hate to bring up uncomfortable things, I need to know- what do you think about Rebecca's punishment?" "I think it was light enough," Atlas replied with a grimace. "To tell you the truth, I think she probably deserved a worse fate, but a conviction for attempted murder takes time. Getting her away from you was the main thing, and we accomplished that, so I'm satisfied with it." I was pleased with his response, but I still had one more question that I was dying to ask. Fortunately, Atlas anticipated me once again. "And now, I'm sure you're wondering, what is my true identity?" He said with a smile, "The fact of the matter is, I'm King of the North."

the usually unreadable Alpha King's eyes reflected something almost impossible to recognize. Not with doubt, not with fear but with determination. "I don't believe it." His voice was quiet but absolute. "I know it." Far beyond the snow-covered mountains, hidden in the darkness of an ancient fortress, a hooded figure stood before a stone altar engraved with the same silver crest Rowan had seen on his wrist. A messenger knelt at the figure's feet. "Master..." The messenger's voice trembled. "The Northern King has taken the boy." The hooded figure tightened a gloved hand around the edge of the altar. "So..." A cold smile spread inside the hood.