Killer Queen Requiem Novels & Stories

his voice carried effortlessly through the vast chamber, "we gather today to witness the coronation of Alpha Queen Amelia Volkov, claimed mate of Alpha King Lukas Volkov, ruler of all werewolf kind." At his signal, the massive doors at the end of the hall swung open. And there she stood—my mate, my Queen, radiant in emerald and black, her copper hair arranged to receive the crown I would place upon her head. Every other thought fled my mind. Protesters, politics, past—all faded to insignificance before her presence. Ares rumbled with pride within me. 'Our mate,' he purred. 'Our Queen.'

His knees trembled, his heart pounding with bitter, agonizing regret. Under the blinding stage lights, in full view of the entire aristocracy of Capital City, Brandon Blackwood wrapped both arms around Robin’s waist, pulling her back flush against his broad, muscular chest. His towering frame completely claimed her, daring anyone in the world to look her way. Brandon lowered his head, pressing his lips against the warm skin behind Robin’s ear, his voice loud enough to echo in the private box: "The necklace is fifty million, Robin. But the queen wearing it is priceless."

It was the smell of survival, and it sat less than twenty paces away behind a pair of locked oak panels stamped with the personal crescent seal of the Grand Vizier. A lone imperial officer stood before the vault doors, his uniform pristine despite the chaos around him, his long saber drawn and trembling as he stared into the golden, unblinking glare of the Lycan Queen. He was barely twenty, his face pale beneath his polished brass helmet, his breathing short and erratic as his nose detected the heavy, musk-filled odor of a sovereign beast who had completely shed her human restraint. "Yield the keys," Natalia said, her voice dropping into a low, rattling rattle that carried no human inflectio

The thing is, we weren't only reading questions from the book, but we were also watching what happened that day. She used vervain to knock Mery out the night before the ritual. Meanwhile, while she was unconscious, she got a witch in her room, and with the help of the witch, Mery got rejected from the holy lake. Right after, when Mery was rejected, Damien's mother took the dress for some unknown reasons and kept it with her. It was what the same witch suggested. Fun fact, years later, and exactly one night before I passed the ritual, she showed up again. She reminded the Queen about the dress and instructed me that I should wear it.

I was right in front of her. But I was stopped by screams of my people. I turned back. I saw all of the pack members, including my brother and Damian, were on their knees, screaming. The room was filled by their cries. Lissy, she was pregnant. She couldn't take it. " stop it" I cried. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I looked at Qiatssiah. " please, stop it. There are women and children, Qiatssiah" I pleaded. " sorry darling I can't stop it. But you can. Do as I said Vanessa. Stab your mate in his heart by that knife. That knife is spelled to stop his wolf healing. So that he can die a painful human death..." she burst out laughing.

Killian collapsed beside me, his right arm covered in angry, chemical burns, his eyes wide with terror. "I've got you," he panted, pulling me against his chest. "I've got you." "She’s coming," I managed to say, clutching his shirt. "She’s not just an assassin, Killian. She’s the key. The Shadow Alpha needs a Silver Queen to unlock the final gate of the Void—and he doesn't care which one of us it is." I looked at his burned arm, then at the silver lake, which was now streaked with black. The Archive had been tainted. The sanctuary was no longer safe.

Being Alpha of a pack was a great honor, but required sacrifice. Valeria, though, would be the best choice of all. Not only was she strong and had Alpha blood within her, but she was kind and thoughtful and honorable. Killian would have been foolish to ignore it. And now he couldn’t. Now, every fiber in his being wanted to rush across the rocky ground, to take Valeria in his arms and kiss her, to let her know that he was ready to become hers, and for her to be his. He managed to focus on the expression on Valeria’s face. She seemed stunned, like she had been slapped across the face. She was staring at him with wide eyes, almost panicked, and Killian didn’t like that at all. Valeria should be

There was only a simple bed inside. - Sweet dreams, my Queen. - He said sarcastically before shutting the door behind her back. Kaitlyn was left alone in complete darkness. She could still hear the guards taking their usual position. The witch sat on her bed and took a few deep breaths. She slowly opened her hand, checking on the thing she was holding in it. A small smile spread across her face. She closed her hand around the key. That could be her door to freedom and Demetria. Kaitlyn looked for the lock on the chains. It was her only chance, so she prayed to the gods to show her mercy. Slowly, she placed the key in a small hole and breathed. It fitted, but there was another step to do. She

The Underworld pulsed with a unique rhythm, one that spoke of both eternal endings and quiet beginnings. It was a place where beauty and terror wove together seamlessly, and as Penelope stood on the polished obsidian dais outside the grand throne room, she felt both. The dress she wore was a masterpiece of deep emerald silk and black lace, flowing like water over her figure. The intricate embroidery of vines and blossoms glittered faintly in the dim torchlight. Demeter had dressed her with care, every detail meant to sell the illusion that she was Persephone.

The contrast of my curvy frame wrapped in pelts against his military rigidity made the approaching bettas keep a respectful distance. Ryker, leaning on my shoulder, opened his eyes slowly, looking at the medallion and then at the King of the North with ancient clarity. “The pact… is complete,” my father whispered weakly. “The Moon Queen has returned to her home.” Kael approached quickly, holding his bandaged side but with a triumphant expression lighting up his ash-streaked face.