I Am The Sorcerer King Novels & Stories

One more complication added to all the shit he had to clean up before his baby was born. He looked Alpha Lincoln in the eye without fear, and the man looked away, unable to withstand his will. This was the reason they wanted him to have children. No matter what they did or how much magic they had access to, he was still stronger than them. He was the true king, the Alpha of all Alphas. No magic could fake that. They had failed to bend him, so he was sure they would try to turn his child. But his blood would always recognise their nature and go against them, as it had done every generation.

Luka responded with a wicked smile on his face. The air was thick with tension as Ardolf faced Luka, a cunning sorcerer with ambitions that reached far beyond the horizon. Luka's voice carried a chilling confidence as he uttered those fateful words that would send Ardolf's world spiraling into chaos. "I'll grant you your kingdom back," Luka drawled, his eyes glinting with malevolent amusement, "but in return, you must surrender Athena to me."

It wouldn’t be wrong to call them to have an almost fanatical glow… "Sol Dragona Luxuria. You are the heir of this kingdom. You are the future king of Lustburg. More importantly, you are the son of the hero king. The man who saved this world. The man, the hero, who immortalized himself with his deeds. Never forget that. This title isn't just a boon for you. This is also a curse. A weight. A burden that will try to crush you at every moment of your life." The fanatical glow in her eyes dimmed before changing into a sad melancholic light, a light that spoke tales of the tiredness, the helplessness, and the pain their wielder held.

Daegal got up and perched his ass on his desk, arms crossed on his chest waiting for me to talk. I huffed exaggeratedly making him tug his lips, but not saying anything. Still waiting for me to talk. "Okay, look, I asked king Armand if I could visit Maven, the sorcerer under King Ranulf and he got a bit snappy and sent me to see you. So, here I am." "Oh, dear, I've heard rumors about the king's sexcapade with you." Daegal sits his gossipy ass to my side and looks at me in amazement.

“I have seen more than a millennium years worth of sunset and sunrise as a king. I have seen wars and bloodshed during these times and I have done what I felt was right at every moment. Some of these decisions turned out to be disasters, but at least I took a stand when one was required of me. So now I have decided to make another tough decision, one that requires me to be as humble as can be. Our people need a fresh voice, a breath of fresh air, and not the air that they have been breathing for the past thousand years. I need them to see the world through that adventurous eyes of yours that are always open to possibilities. Maybe one could say I want them to see the world more humanly.” The

The gray of something that no longer needs to prove what it can destroy. “Sorcerer,” he said. His voice was soft, ageless, without accent. “You mentioned the second Key. Speak.” No preamble. No protocol. Soren adjusted his strategy in a blink. “The Lycán King’s omega is the Key, Your Majesty. I witnessed it directly.” “How?”

“My Lord I didn’t realize you were here otherwise I would have brought the girls another day to get fitted.” The King turned his head to look at Lazarus, at the same time his eyes were off to the side glancing at Jezzebelle. His hair was well managed and was well past his shoulders. You can certainly tell he was an ancient his ears were pointed and when he spoke he had an accent. According to her father he came from France. He also had frightening fangs. The older you get the more the Bloodthirst takes it toll. The King noticed Jezzebelle was looking at him or more than less was studying him.

My voice came out raw, shaking with rage. “You killed her!” I screamed, my body jerking against the restraints. The memory of the vision burned behind my eyes, searing itself into my soul. Nyxara. Her pain. Her death. I had seen it. I had felt it. And the monster who had done it was standing right in front of me. The king. He was here. Watching me with a dark, satisfied smirk. Beside him stood the man who had sprinkled something on me before I passed out—his sorcerer, no doubt.

As a result, when we got back home, Reive settled himself on the sofa, near the fire, and I started to walk back and forth, biting my nails and blushing under his mocking look. “You are the Undead King, aren’t you?” I gasped, stopping and holding wide my arms. “You’re Reive Eridanus Castro-Firel! The ruler of Aldenor, overthrown seven hundred years ago!” The necromancer grimaced, but didn’t stop smiling, “Little one, let’s not speak about this: ‘overthrown ruler’ and all that blah-blah-blah. Yeah, I’m the Undead King. Yeah, the very one who lived seven hundred years ago”.

"It all sounds good and wonderful but again, I'm not interested. I like my solitude. If the current 'vampire king' knows that I helped him, he would have my head" "He is not the king. He is just a murderer and imposter. You are not that secluded as you paint the picture. If we can find you then he can too. And what will stop him from taking you? Using you for your powers? He already has a mage under his thumb and he will do the same with you" "Nonsense! He doesn't scare me. I can handle him"