King Of Runes Novels & Stories

After all, if we could find reason enough, the King could demand the pack to reveal all of their secrets or face the King's army. "Alpha Fin" stated the wolf who lead us to the packhouse. "I present Alpha Cyrus Astor and Beta Dante Clifford of the Golden Moon pack." I looked at each person's face to assess their emotions determined to find their tells. Those on the lower step showed interest in who we were. The Golden Moon pack was the King's pack after all. His royal court and warriors predominantly came from them. Being Alpha and the King's next of kin, I was also next in line for the throne. Our presence didn't seem to phase the Alpha and Luna. Their faces were passive showing no em

he said quietly, “if the Elders find out—” “They won’t,” the king replied calmly. His voice was terrifying in its control. “This ritual is forbidden,” Joe whispered. “The price—” “I know the price.” Joe swallowed hard. “It will take something from you. Something permanent.” The king didn’t hesitate. “I have already lost everything,” he said. Silence swallowed the room. Joe stepped back. The king raised his hand. The runes along the floor ignited instantly, glowing blood-red as ancient magic awakened. The candles flared higher, shadows twisting unnaturally against the walls.

Could he know more than he was letting on? “No,” he replied tersely, brushing off the question. “Sylvia can't read it. It’s not magical or anything like that. It’s simple. Only the King of Tiryn can inherit the King’s signet ring, and that ring is the key to understanding the runes. Most of the runes are kept in the Chamber of Secrets, a hidden vault filled with all of Tiryn’s guarded knowledge. Only the King can access it through secret passageways—ones connected only to the royal chambers.”

"Emma, that’s him. That’s the First King. The one who supposedly 'founded' the North." "He didn't found it," Kaelen said, his eyes scanning the inscriptions around the quartz dais. "He conquered it. Look at the runes, Emma. He wasn't a White Wolf. He was a Void-Breaker. He was the one who first figured out how to harvest the kinetic energy of our bloodline to keep himself immortal."

“Those are elder runes.” “She won’t recognize them.” “No one under thirty studies those anymore.” Clara folded her arms, voice light. “Simple. Match the runes to the correct laws of the pack.” Frederick’s eyes sharpened. A trap. These runes were nearly forgotten. Even many warriors would struggle. The whole pack waited. I stepped forward, fingers hovering over the carvings. Silence held its breath. Then steady and sure, I lifted the first rune. “This one,” I said calmly, holding it up, “represents the law of territory protection, forged during the Northern War when rogue wolves invaded our borders.”

She heard footsteps and turned her head to look who it was. "Dante! Oh my gods it is you!" Dante was the Crown Prince of the Northern Demon Citadel. He had bronze skin, like he had just got done tanning. His hair was indian long and black. He had beautiful blueish green eyes. Demons were almost pretty much like vampires. Their eyes hold the power rings. The more rings the more powerful. Their nails were just as sharp as well. Their ears were pointed and usually adorn with earrings. They had wings and an actual tail. Belle always made fun of Dante when he got mad at school because his tail would pop out along with his horns. Being a royal bloodline he could hide majority of his features in th

And as the rune on my mother’s flask pulsed once more—harder, hotter—I understood something brutally clear: The Alpha King had begun a game of his own. And his game…was older. Darker. And far more dangerous than I ever imagined.

The process where each graduand from each arm presented their skill or a mind turning project that won them a one year internship by the scouters that were invited. "Well that's because Jacob St. Laurent will be attending this one", he proffered, causing all the blood to drain out my face. "What?", I choked out, letting go of my spoon. Jacob St. Laurent was the only descendant of one of the pure blood families. The Royal pure blood family to be exact. Jacob St. Laurent without question, was the King of Vampires. And he was going to be at the selection. The selection I wasn't even remotely prepared for.

To the shallows where magic runs clean and slow and doesn’t echo like a scream. Signe offered me access to some of Erik’s rune work. An old book, half-written, pages stuffed with theories about the Norse pantheon and the roots of prophetic duality. I bring it with me, wrapped in oilcloth, tucked beneath my arm like a lifeline. That young man is far more talented than I first suspected. The coin burns faintly against my palm. I don’t need to trap or summon this time. I just need to listen. I kneel in the water and draw three intersecting runes in the silt. Kenaz, Gebo, Ansuz. Light, exchange, and divine message. Then I set the coin in the center.

Before I could say anything, Alannah took off her shoe and lifted a foot, showing off the same rune on the bottom of her foot. Ternen looked a little green when he grabbed a fist of his hair and pulled back his ear, showing off his own rune. My mom looked at all of them and then turned to me. “What are these?” “Parasitic runes.” I sank back into the chair. “Abby’s was a draining rune. Vince is trying to drain all the children of pack members who I can only assume wouldn’t blindly follow his plan to revolt.”