Hamlet Novels & Stories

Being one of the originals, it was a big deal which is why she had more options than most were allowed. You’ll probably hear a lot about pure bloods through this tale. It basically means that we never mixed with mortals. Our blood is old, powerful and untainted. I really don’t get into how that’s possible. More Hail’s cup of tea as he’s the Caretaker. Boiled down this simply means Hail is my right hand, and a historian slash advisor. Roman’s my left, and Kai is kinda the legs I stand on.

My other hand instinctively reached out to him, but he flinched back abruptly, his eyes, once filled with love and affection for me, now glared at me with so much hate etched on them. He shook his head, "I could hardly believe it too, Ophelia. But the evidence is clear. You slept with my brother, and now you carry his bastard child in you!" A sharp cry tore at my lips, and I shook my head, willing, hoping, that he was just bluffing, that he was only puking my legs and he didn't believe the words he was saying. But I couldn't be more wrong. The evidence was right in front of me. And there was nothing I could do to clear the absurd claims.

“Jeez, calm your tits, Emilia. Mark’s right, you’re so dramatic sometimes.” “Right?” Mark shrugged in a casual way and frowned at Em. And then, focusing his attention on me, he said, “So you have a couple of broken ribs. The patient, Jack, is his name, I guess. So yeah, schizophrenic, had something against you. Not sure if you remember but the nurse who witnessed the attack said the dude first punched you in the ribs, broke a couple of them, which caused you to fall back and pass out.

His thick, dark eyebrows furrowed as he laid eyes on John. "Why are you here?" Liam remembered that John had rarely visited this house since he married Lana. John politely greeted him, "Welcome back, Uncle Liam!" After handing his coat to his assistant and sitting on the sofa, Liam elegantly crossed his legs. His calm eyes suddenly turned toward John. "Recite Hamlet." John shivered, not even having time to be frightened. Without hesitation, he began reciting, "To be or not to be, that is the question …" The Kanes' living room was filled with the sound of John reciting Shakespeare's famous soliloquy from Hamlet.

Then he stood and walked to the clear banister with the silver railing and turned his back toward me. "Montague?" he asked, looking out onto the city's lights. "I don't suppose Shakespeare wrote a play about your family?" "Different Montagues, I believe." He turned around, his arms crossed over his chest. The position pulled the seams of his shirt, straining them against his shoulders. "As in Montague Corporation—tobacco." "Yes."

She sobs. Inside my chest, Hamlet is clawing at my lungs, letting out a feral, vicious growl that vibrates behind my ribs. Needy? She is a queen! She is our mate! He dares to neglect her, to humiliate her for a plastic cup of cheap beer? Let us shred him! Let us tear his throat out!

Lana points to a page on the journal, “Le destructeur de tous et de ses proches, la mort, la guerre et la Pestilence, récolteront la destruction de tous. Le sacrifice de l'humanité sera son champion. Si l'amour et la bonté prévalent, le monde sera sauvé. Si la mort et l'avidité réussissent, la fin sera un nouveau commencement rempli de mort, d'assujettissement et de destruction.” I interpret it out loud, “The destroyer of all and her kin, death, war, and Pestilence, shall reap the destruction of all. Humanity's sacrifice shall be its champion. Should love and goodness prevail, the world will be saved. Should death and greed succeed, the end shall be a new beginning filled with death, subjuga

She smiles at me as she pulls back. “I get that. But why the Seven Regions? The other realm is so far away. Start your independence here. In Hamlet.” I tell them. Halona snorts. “That's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one!” She shakes her head. “Hamlet. As if there is adventure and excitement in Hamlet.” “You mean the town that just saw countless murders commited by a deranged sociopath and his band of psycho gods and goddesses? More exciting that that?” I ask her, laughing.

Marcus:- don't worry about me my lady. novistle and juliana go to balcony to talk novistle:- what about my brother did you forget about him juliana:- I remember your brother. but he was dead. I don't allow to tell you but he is black king that my father think novistle:- I don't know he was alive or not but I want to know what king think about him. tell me what I don't know

He smirked and leaned back on the chair, “A bit small for the ruler of the largest pack in the realm, don't you think?” “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Keyleth stepped to my side, her arms folded against each other. “Tell us about the rot and we might just let you live.” “What shall I call you?” The wolven asked again, the smirk on his face dropped. “Oliver. Just Oliver.” — “Koren?” The word rolled off Keyleth's tongue as the male looked with obvious annoyance. “Soren.” He snapped at her, turning a sharp gaze towards me. “Soren stris, the dark wolven rises, and the realm falls.”