King Arthur Book Original Novels & Stories

shaking her as his heart is bursting with pain, hate, and anger where he could not explain and even take for too long. His mana overflows as the mark of the holder of the third book of Aries show unto his neck. To the pain and anger he felt, he screams creating a shock wave and bursting with a white light that engulf everything. To the state and the clouded heart, he is drowning with, a voice whispers as ‘he’ came. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Drawing a smile and the tone of choosing a henchman for himself. Arthur draws the gate as he steps out of it as he will about to take his trump card and to aid the third book and all after he will intertwine a holder in its equivalent to t

we cleaned up the scattered fabric samples. "A nautical nursery," Arthur mused, holding up a swatch with tiny whales. "Do you think the baby will feel pressured to become a marine biologist?" "Better than feeling pressured to solve fictional compost murders," I retorted, folding a blanket. He pretended to be wounded. "My legacy is secure. Speaking of which..." He disappeared into his study and returned with a thick envelope. "It's finished." I stared at it. "The book?" "The book," he confirmed, placing it in my hands with a mixture of pride and terror. "The Compost Murders of Cedar Cove. Be gentle. Or don't. But be honest."

The king shouted at him, rubbing the center of his brows and sighing in disbelief. “As you wish” Arthur lowered his head with his right hand on his abdomen. He turned around and walked towards the door wearing a sadistic smile on his face. Chapter End.

PRINCE ARCHER had been walking for nearly half an hour, his sword on his right hip, his bow and arrow and some nets and traps on a knapsack on his back, when he spotted Aurora, her bright red hair glimmering under the rays of the sun. She was crouched on one of her traps, holding a fat, brownish rabbit. “Aurora!” he called. She turned to look at the sound of his voice, her eyebrows furrowing. Despite her unwelcoming expression, he still felt joy in his chest upon seeing the lady again. He jogged towards her, only stopping when he was an arm’s length away from her.

They looked older than he was, but Arthur cleared his throat. “My name is Arthur,” he said. “King Dean was my father. I don’t proclaim to be your king. I am just leading you back to the werewolf lands.” No one seemed confused about his proclamation or when he shifted and Daphne climbed on his back in a set of leather armor. Those who couldn’t walk yet were put into carriages. The others walked though there was space for them in the wagon if they needed to rest. Arthur led the caravan from the castle towards the border.

I’m careful not to flinch or break eye contact, regardless of my body’s instinct to shrink back. Arthur puts his muscular form between his father and I. “Enough, Father. My queen is right. Charlotte has clearly been through more than a rote ordeal. Besides, I am the one with the enemies to worry about…you’re retired.” Charlotte schools her voice immediately back to melodic. “Arthur, you’ve become the Alpha King?” He turns to face her. “Yes I have. And I guarantee you are safe now.”

**** It was evening when Arthur returned and went straight to their room. Soon, Arthur's massive form filled the library's entrance. He'd not changed up yet. His eyes glittered gold under the lights of crystal chandeliers as he scanned the space and his eyes landed on his wife. His cold facade shifted to something unreadable as he watched her small form working on a drawing at the far end of the library. He advanced further, his step deliberately slow and stalking despite his shoes.

The notifications from Julian had stopped, probably because his legal team had finally informed him that the King Shipping Trust was beyond his legal reach. She opened a blank document on her encrypted application, typing out a list of names, dates, and future events she remembered from her first life. She closed the screen when she heard the quiet, distinct sound of the doorknob turning on the far side of the room. The connecting door to Arthur’s quarters swung open. Arthur stood in the doorway, his tie removed, the top buttons of his shirt undone, exposing the powerful column of his neck. He looked less like a corporate executive now and more like the commanding figure his staff whispered

Donald murmured, his sharp face serious as a heavy, concealed wall drawer slid smoothly out from the hollowed interior of a marble column. Donald didn't pull the items out himself. He stepped back immediately, bowing his head with profound respect as Penelope stood up and walked to the column. Her slender fingers reached into the hidden cavity, pulling out a single, ancient leather-bound journal caked in a thin layer of protective wax. Stamped across the center leather was Alpha Arthur’s personal royal crest. She opened the brittle pages under the warmth of the fireplace light, her indigo eyes rapidly tracking the handwritten black calligraphy lines left behind by the late billionaire King.

Veiled Valley is covered by clouds below, nothing but the glow of the neon lights from the arts district to distinguish the kingdom from the storm raging through the valley, but within minutes, we’re standing in the foyer of the massive, cavernous library overlooking the city below, shedding our wet coats and cloaks. Soren shakes out his hat as voices drift down the narrow stone corridor–Misty’s voice lifted over what I know is Ryatt, and the man of the hour, Arthur himself. Ryatt is leaning against a wooden table when we walk into the first room of the multi-level library. Shelves stretch to the ceiling, and the exterior wall is completely made of glass that usually gives a view of the city