Romans & histoires Jude From The Cruel Prince

I said wide eyed, Diana bowing at the sight of the prince, not saying a word as she tried processing what she was looking at before the prince let my hand and waist go and I took a step back glaring at him. “What have you done to them?” I asked the prince who frowned in confusion “my friends, Prince Nathan, what have you done to them?” “What have I done to them?” Prince Nathan asked his frown still on his face, his eyes trying to read my expression to understand what I meant, but my own eyes were filled with tears as I feared the worst. “Kiara love, what is going on?” Prince Nathan asked cupping my cheeks softly, his eyes wide with worry as he tried figuring out what was wrong with me, and w

If the plan works out, there will be no more Prince or his fucked up party. I stepped out again, wondering if he at least took a bite. What was the fucker doing, anyway? Will anyone ever find out that he died from a poisoned fruit? No way, unless this is Snow White's story. But he was the evil Prince and soon to be evil King. I should stop feeling guilty or scared. While wandering in the hallways trying to justify my actions, I heard Julia's mother yell at me from somewhere about being late. I walked toward the Prince's chamber again. Did I hear voices? He was talking to someone who was responding in a relatively calm tone.

These were Acar’s words, when the armies, and the maidens, reported to them, that princess Sarifa was missing, which the armies traced and found out, princess Sarifa eloped with Prince Cornell, who disguised himself to be Iva. When the message got to the king of Guhu about Judas’s death, he was so annoyed to hear the news. The king of Guhu, his son Acar, and their armies, have all planned on how to war against the kingdom of Barak, through the assistant of Judas.

"I don’t think you want to say that to me, bloodsucker. I’m trying real hard not to kill you. Don’t piss me off with lies. I’ve got enough shit to deal with without you wasting my time." Nodding, the vampire swallows. "My name is Jude, and I work for The Crimson Court." I watch him closely and notice his red eyes widen the longer he stares at me. It’s like seeing me more clearly is making him realize something he hadn’t before, putting two and two together. I don’t know what he’s seeing or why he looks so spooked. He lowers his gaze and swallows again. "It’s okay, baby," I hear Ronan say, drawing my attention from Jude. "Go ahead and get up. You’re safe."

But before I could process it, another flash hit. This time I saw a throne. Not like the one I was sitting on. This one was monstrous. Built from the spines of beasts I couldn’t name. It sat on top of a mountain of shadow. And Jude was standing in front of it. Younger. Paler. Wearing something royal—dark armor, lined with red. His face was blank, unreadable. He turned away from the throne. And behind him, thousands of eyes watched. “He abandoned the realm. For what? For them?”

“I’ve only come to pay my respects.” “In… in this manner?!” She yells, face rumpled in disgust as she takes in his appearance. “You’re barely dressed. You barged in here with whores and you reek of alcohol! Why on earth do you keep tainting the royal family’s name?! Don't you have any respect for the king or the crown prince?!” There’s pleading and desperation in her voice, emotions I think are enough to make the drunken prince feel remorseful but instead, he laughs.

“Oh, but you do know him, don’t you? This scheming little shifter had high ambitions, Your Majesty. She tracked down the Crown Prince during his mission and gave him a deadly aphrodisiac. She has been holding him captive with her magic for weeks.” “That’s not true!” I shout desperately. “I’ve never seen the Crown Prince before in my life! And I don’t know any magic beyond basic herb work!” Lady Zari shakes her head, her expression perfectly crafted to show grief and righteous anger. “I have proof, Your Majesty. Witnesses. Evidence of her sorcery. Her own pack is aware of her intentions. I can even bring forward human witnesses.” The King’s face is a mask of barely controlled fury. “You dared

Caesar stepped into the snow. Not in armor. Not in rage. But in a long coat lined with dark gold, its silver buttons gleaming like captured moonlight. He was tall, graceful.His face carved by gods, yet softened by warmth. Pale lips curved in a smile. A single blood-red mole beneath his right eye, like a drop of wine on porcelain. More radiant than Lucian. More comforting than the hearth. The Blood Prince of the Empire. He stopped before me. Then knelt—just slightly—so our eyes met level.

Kaelor’s gold eyes were dimming. Vladya raised the blade for the finishing blow. "Wait." The voice came from the sky. The Iron Kings had landed. The lead King—the one with the rusted armor and the dragon-bone spear—stepped into the surf. He was huge. A mountain of metal and bone. He looked at Vladya. Then he looked at Hecate. "You promised us the Alpha," the King rumbled. "He’s yours," Hecate said, not letting go of Aradaa. "Take him. Just leave the Muse to me."

“I’m not a whore and I don’t want to be killed by one of your angry mates for lying with you.” Alaric frowns at me, like he can see what I’m thinking before he moves across the carriage and grabs my face with both his hands. “We will have you in our beds because you are beautiful and smart. We are loyal to no one. None of us has chosen a mate. We never have, and you are not a whore for lying with us. You will be rewarded for your time with us, pleasured by our touch and treated as an equal,” he explains to me, but everything from when he said they don’t have mates seems like a blur.