Gulity Crown Novels & Stories

"I want to be clear, so listen carefully, because I will say this once. I claimed you because the law recognizes what you are to me, and allowing my mate to be chained as a breeder would humiliate the crown before every pack in the kingdom. That is the only reason you are here." Sable stopped singing. I felt her go still inside me, and then I felt her start to shake, and I stood there in front of his desk with my hope draining out of me and hating myself for ever letting it in. Of course. Of course it was the crown, not me. It had never once in my life been me. Each sentence that followed went into me slow and deep, and I kept my eyes on the edge of his desk and my face empty, because I had

"Well, you know the kingdom's tradition, the throne can't be empty." "I think we have talked about this before, mother. We agreed my coronation would hold in two months time." "This is why I called you here. There's been a change of plan." "Please, explain further. I don't understand." "Courtney dear, please excuse us, darling." "Mother, I just got here." Courtney whined, sitting up. "I'm sorry." Courtney got down from the bed and walked out of the Queen's chamber. "I'm listening?"

The bright amber appearance before the audience reminds them that the Royal Cavalry Captain is someone that they feared formidable enough to trample their positions in Clapestris. However, for Darina, she intended to wear the golden armory, since it is only now that her royal father officially called her presence. She has a lot to tell him even though it is a formal occasion. She handed over her headgear and her scepter to the chiliarch to indicate that her presence is not for her appeal but a report. She has brought with her Rowen who pushes the cart comprising the model of military prowess Clapestris currently possess.

I rasped, And tried to sit up, "Underwater and I guess I got jolted by a forbidden crown." "Forbidden crown?" Kylie asked with humor in her voice but a bit of relief on her face. "that's the best I can come up with." I managed to say, "seeing as they don't want us possessing their damned crown. Nearly just ended my precious life simply because I touched it." Kylie's brows drew together as she turned to look at the crown. It still lay on the crown, it's pulse, larger than life, even though it was incomplete. "No, I don't think it's wary of our possession." Kylie whispered, her eyes now super fixed on the crown fragment. Her skin had grown suddenly pale and clammy, and her lips trembled.

All of his hype comes from his brothers, how good-looking he is or horny people who like smut-filled books. His brothers are just as famous as him. His eldest brother, Christian Crown runs a few strands of clubs and hotels. The middle brother, Khalil Crown is the maker and designer of the Crown. A car luxury brand, which became as popular as BMWs, Teslas, Lamborghinis, Mercedes and other car brands in just its first year of being produced. Soon enough they became on the same level as Rolls Royce, Lambos and other luxury cars. I do have to admit Crown cars are sexy as fuck.

Aren’t there other heads and elders in this school? “When I said that you will state your name and faction, you will do, because right now,” Caleb pointed to the tip of his katana; my eyes widened, the smell of rose, and that purple-colored liquid on the tip, its poisoned katana. Am I just thinking things? “We will always find ways to know every one of you, from your strength up to your weakness, even your lights out, we are under your nose, without you even knowing, now, all of you will state your name and factions,”

Betty’s hands trembled slightly as she fastened the clasps at Emilia’s back, and Emilia couldn’t help but notice her nervousness. “Relax, Betty,” she said gently. “You’re doing well.” Betty blushed, nodding quickly. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Once she was dressed, Matron Isla gestured to a silver circlet resting on a velvet pillow. “Shall I place your coronet, Your Highness?” Emilia hesitated, the sight of the intricate piece making her stomach twist. It was beautiful, but it felt like another layer of distance between herself and her old life. “No,” she said softly. “Not today.”

“I want you honest.” She turned to Vow again. “And what happens if the Crown lies?” There was a beat of silence. Then—for the first and last time—Triarch Vow spoke. “If the Crown lies,” the voice rasped through the hood, genderless and sharp as glass, “then the city burns.” Later, in a room without screens, without files, without exits—he handed her a coat. Black. Fitted. Cut like armor. “You’re inside now,” Domenik said. “You dress like it.”

It always does. A courier sloop slid up on our starboard quarter around first light, white, handkerchief tidy, hull meaner than her paint. She raised a trumpet and a writ together, the way men do who believe sound and ink are twin weapons. "Ship Gilded Wraith," the trumpet announced, voice too pleased with its own posture. "By order of Conclave, the Crown, and House Morcant." "That's too many fathers for one sentence," Jas muttered. "You are commanded to heave to and receive inspection and arrest writs for persons named herein."

They said the Saint had awoken. Inside the grand temple, Elysia waited behind the doors. Her body still ached from the ceremony. The burn beneath her skin had quieted, but the gold in her veins refused to fade; it shimmered faintly through the thin linen of her sleeves. Attendants moved around her in silence, adjusting the folds of her robe. The fabric was white and impossibly soft, threaded with dust-fine strands of gold that caught each movement like flame. When they set the crystal circlet upon her head, the weight of it pressed against her temples like a crown of heat.