King Of Blades Novels & Stories

My mind goes back to the sight at the house, all of the blood, the dismembered bodies, the crying children. No one who was there deserves to see another sunrise. “Your Majesty,” Blade says, meeting me at the bottom of the stairs. He is aptly named; his father was a strong warrior and wanted to raise a son who would carry on his legacy, so he’d named his child after a weapon–and then he had become one. I give him a sharp nod in greeting before I ask, “Have they all confessed?” I have no doubt, if anyone in this castle is capable of getting full confessions from the prisoners, it’s Blade. The only one more capable of doing so is me.

I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding. But if he was not here for that, what did he come here for? “I want you to get a blade for me” he continued, overlooking the balcony and the stables below from a distance with his eyes. When I still remained silent, he carried on “the vendor must not know you’re from the castle or have any connections with us. All you’re permitted to say is that you need an enchanted blade for protection. There’s a chance he would bring out the specific blade I seek with the rest of his collection. You would purchase the blade and return to the castle. If the blade is not among the pile he displays to you, press further and if he does not give in, purchase

I couldn't help breaking my own rule as I glanced up at the most dangerous looking person I'd ever seen. He was tall and broader than even the King, his scarred face was marked by brutal battles and his black hair was tied back to reveal cold silver eyes that looked like a born killer's. He wore all black and moved with deadly grace while other wolves shifted away to create a clear path, leaving him to sit alone in the front row even at a ceremony meant to bring wolves together. This was the King's Blade and most powerful warrior, the one they call the cursed alpha, though most won't speak his name aloud.

Lincoln's hands grew weak immediately. Whaat??? Sally?? Martha's friend?? His brows arched as he looked at the man who was still panting heavily. "You liar" he growled. "You're trying to blame someone else for your own mistakes?? Tell me the truth or I'll kill you?!!" "It is the truth!" The man yelled in fear just as the King lifted the sword again. He couldn't take it anymore. Never.

His blade slashed past my ear. Close. Too close. Maybe he was right. I was losing my edge. And that was because of that hybrid. I had thought about her all last night and Nate has been restless since she left. I could barely think without the thought of Vee crossing my mind. I countered with a brutal feint, making him react just how I wanted. The second his balance shifted, I struck, spinning behind him and bringing my blade to his throat. Silence. Our heavy breathing filled the space between us.

He spoke in the coldest tone he could muster. “I don’t plan to hurt you. Just stay here for—” “For what?!” Kane snapped, finally turning to face him. King’s amber eyes were still dull, still lifeless. They always caught Kane off guard. He wanted to rip them from their owner, to kill him right then and there. But that would be an easy death. He wanted to see King devastated. He wanted to drain the life from his eyes. But it seemed like he never would—because there was nothing left in them to take.

She hadn’t seem him properly back then at the pack house but looking at him now did something to her insides, like her body was being set on fire from deep within. He was tall with dark reddish brown hair and quite muscular with a jaw line that sets things straight. He had some markings on his arms and wore a gold moon shaped necklace. But his beauty lies in his eyes, a shade of black that somehow blends into itself when under different angles of lighting. But those eyes were not really looking at her with any warmth. She may not had seen his eyes back at Eclipse pack but his voice had covered her with so much warmth and peace. Lukas walked up to the pissed off King and gave him a run down o

The executioner king, who tortured his friends and loved ones, broke their lives, crippled their hearts. He'll end this right now! The milky-white blade froze in the face of the Lord. Tristan realized that he couldn't breathe. Looking down, the young man saw the hilt of an illuminated sword protruding from his stomach, which was clutched by Alter’s hands. When did the Duke manage to draw his blade? Had anger really filled his mind so much that the young man did not notice his movements? Vragenn's hands lay on Tristan's. The king released Avalon's hilt from his weakened fingers and threw back the sword. The blade clanged dully as it fell onto the stone floor. The Lord smiled tenderly, looking

The man's daughter, tiptoed as he bent over for her to reach Axe, her small fingers reaching out to touch Axe's bruised arm, whispered, "It's okay, mister. Papa will take care of you." ‘I came here to find a kid to raise into an indomitable bodyguard that will be loyal to you for life, and yet you chose such a weakling and useless thing?’ Chairman Blade thought, staring down at Axe and then at the worried way his daughter glanced at him, her tiny hand holding onto hid dirty ones as tears trickled down her peachy cheeks.

"Couldn't sleep, Your Highness? Or is spying on your guests another royal tradition?" "Observing," he corrected, pushing off the arch and walking toward her. The mist curled around his boots. "My father said you were educated in the feminine arts. He failed to mention the art of bladework." "It's a border feminine art. We have different priorities." She watched him approach, assessing not as a woman assesses a man, but as a strategist assesses terrain. He moved with a latent power, restrained but evident. He was taller up close, the morning light carving the sharp angles of his face.