Jaguar King Novels & Stories

"Perhaps a match with Princess Catherine? Her lineage is impeccable, and her presentation as an alpha last spring ensures—" "The King's lineage requires no supplementation from a lesser house," a cool, smooth voice interrupted. The chamber went instantly still. Arthur’s gaze flicked involuntarily toward the end of the table. Regent Malakor sat there, draped in black and silver, his posture relaxed in a way that screamed absolute authority. He hadn't touched his wine. He hadn't touched his parchment. He had spent the last hour simply watching.

“This is not me. I am not this person. I don’t fixate. I am the Lycan king. The most feared Alpha. Why would a tiny omega have me staring at a damn shirt? It’s a fucking fabric with no value. I could procure thousands of them in the blink of an eye.” He stored profanities, huffing and puffing as he declared to no one in his bedchamber just how mighty a king he was. As if that would change his fixation, as if that would make him dispose of the shirt when it still had that lingering hint of wisteria.

Everything about this room screamed domination. And seated behind the desk, a king without mercy…. Vincenzo De Luca. Thirty-two. Italian American blood. Asian stock mogul by name, underworld emperor by nature. His tailored charcoal suit hugged a body carved from discipline, not vanity. Broad shoulders, razor-cut jaw, light-olive skin that glowed under low light. But it was his eyes; golden-brown, unreadable, predatory; that held the world hostage. He didn’t run a business. He ran a damn kingdom, banks, brothels, borders. Politicians bowed. Rivals vanished. He trusted no one, not even his own shadow.

I whisper taking his hand and he sighs in relief. "This way, Princess" the guard who gestured for me earlier, leads us to the black Bugatti Veyron that is in the middle of the convoys. I wonder what lifestyle my dad prefers. If you don't know him, you wouldn't guess he is the king. I won't be surprised if I find him driving himself. The guard opens the left door for me and motions for Jace to follow him. " He is riding with me" I quickly grab my mate's hand before he can walk away.

“Btw, can I go to sleep? The new toll road is a bit of a drive, isn't it? I'm really sleepy and tired. It's crazy, these last two days of meetings have really drained my brain and energy.” Gadis glanced over and found King adjusting his seat so that it was much lower than usual. Then he took one of the neck supports that Gadis knew exactly which character he had chosen; Black Dragon. Since the appearance of the Black Dragon in the world of cinema, King had never been without those cute black dragon-shaped accessories. “Just sleep. I'm not speeding, really. Take it easy, okay?”

she demanded and he chuckled and stepped forward, it seems the Jaguar belongs to him " you have no right to treat a pregnant lady like a piece of shit "he said "you know nothing mister man, leave here before I burn you to ashes "she sniggered and he laugh darkly. " I will like to watch you try "he said and his Jaguar sneered furiously showing off his huge canines. " et lucpo xamidra fugara... "she was still chanting when he speedily grab her by the neck and slam her on a grave stone

He was left to deal with the thorny path his parents told him to. But somehow, Jett has a softer heart than Jaguar. Jaguar is cold, stiff, professional, and stern. He always kept a distance and was always serious. He never did charity work or any of the usual good deeds. He was just there to... dispose of evil. He was neither good nor bad.

Who the fuck doesn't want to be called by their name? Lastly, the Mafia Prince himself, Logan King, Jaimes cousin. The king of hell itself,aka the underground boxing king. I've heard of him at the matches I've been to, one punch from him and you're gone, kapoof! If he punches you twice or let's you punch him? Then he's bored and just wants some action.

They did not understand how standing beside the king felt less like hunting and more like standing on the edge of a cliff, wind in his face, the ground gone beneath his feet. He closed his fingers around the coin until the edges bit into skin. Corvin’s voice flowed steadily beside him, issuing decrees with terrifying ease. The hall bowed to every word, the empire shifting with each decision. Elowen looked at him. Jet-black hair, pale eyes, and a mouth shaped for command. Shoulders carrying a nation with frightening simplicity. A weak spot, he had told the king. He had come to find one. Now he was not entirely sure which of them was more exposed.

Fifty thousand grands" His cold voice thundered and everyone backed off, mumbling their disapproval and pain. He spun to glare at them and they all went mute. " Sold for fifty thousand grands" Skinny smiled awkwardly at the crowd of angry men. " The slave is now yours, Lord Creed" Skinny genuflected.