King Of The Underworld Novels & Stories

By the time I reached the top of the crane, she had already turned her back on me, walking away with the man she loved. Once again, I watched her retreating back—only this time, Luca was at her side. Giovanni lit a cigarette and cast a sidelong glance up at me. "Do it." A red-hot branding iron slammed against my skin. I couldn't hold back the shriek that tore out of me. "Just kill me!" He shook his head. "Killing you quick wouldn't settle the score for my dead brothers. I'd rather take my time breaking you. I want everyone in the underworld to see that Daniela isn't untouchable."

Arthur knelt before it and drew a small leather-bound journal from beneath his coat, its pages filled with codes only two people in the world had ever been taught to read, and he was the last of them. He didn't open it. He didn't need to, not tonight. He only held it against his chest the way he had as a boy, when it was the only thing of hers he'd been allowed to keep, and let the weight of everything written inside it settle back into him — the true shape of what she'd spent her life building in the shadows of a court that had never once looked at her and seen anything but a pretty, harmless omega queen. The Moon Court had outlived her. It was still hers to command, even now, even from ben

The Archangel had cornered the King and Queen in front of the entire elite overworld, intending to publicly strip them of their heirs and their dignity in a single, catastrophic stroke. Lucian's massive, heavily corded chest expanded, the apocalyptic predator violently surging against the cage of his pristine Tom Ford tuxedo. The feral King of the underworld didn't reach for a weapon. He held his two sons effortlessly against his broad, rigid shoulders. He felt their tiny, perfect heartbeats against his chest. The sheer, suffocating terror of the threat pushed his possessive instincts entirely past the redline. The room was full of vipers, and they were all st

“But yes. That’s your objective. When you kill him… you’ll be granted one wish.” “A wish?” I repeated, my chest tightening. “Yes. Any wish you desire.” My anger flickered into something else — hope, maybe. A small, dangerous spark of it. “Any wish at all?” I asked. “Any wish at all.” I swallowed hard. “What’s the plan? How do I get to him?” “The king lives far north, atop the mountain of Valengrad. That’s where his castle stands. Beware — reaching him won’t be easy. Killing him will be even harder. But it’s the only way your wish will be granted.”

To our left, ancient olive trees stood like gnarled sentinels and their leaves seemed to reflect the silvery moonlight. We got closer to the gates and Miguel slowed his pace. He didn't look at me, his gaze was fixed on the security cameras nestled in the stone pillars ahead and his voice took on different weight. "Forget everything you think you know about street thugs and back-alley deals, Alejandro," Miguel said softly. I could not help but process what he must have meant by that. Instinctively my own pace slowed. "The men behind these gates don't call themselves 'Mafia.' They are the Guardiani del Codice—the Guardians of the Code."

Still, almost nothing is the same as before. I’m a zombie, the living dead, the supreme specious of the planet, and the leader of one of the largest hordes in North America. I’m one of the Zombie Kings. My job is to keep the peace among zombies, keep my horde fed, and hunt humans for sport. I’m the stuff of Lacey’s nightmares now, and yet somehow, I have to rekindle our relationship so that I’m not forced to use her as a breeder.

she wondered, it had popped up in the info dump she received and the voice in the dark place had said it to her right before she first woke up here. "Regis, is an old word for king, or something. It's also connected to my phantom crest," The crest hissed at her and information found itself in her subconscious. "There are other Regis out there, I can almost feel them, and they can feel me. We're all connected… like a network."

As a result, when we got back home, Reive settled himself on the sofa, near the fire, and I started to walk back and forth, biting my nails and blushing under his mocking look. “You are the Undead King, aren’t you?” I gasped, stopping and holding wide my arms. “You’re Reive Eridanus Castro-Firel! The ruler of Aldenor, overthrown seven hundred years ago!” The necromancer grimaced, but didn’t stop smiling, “Little one, let’s not speak about this: ‘overthrown ruler’ and all that blah-blah-blah. Yeah, I’m the Undead King. Yeah, the very one who lived seven hundred years ago”.

Paul asked coldly, his eyes narrowing. "It used to be," I said softly. Paul stared at King. "He doesn't smell like Neratomay. But…he's not human either." "No," I said. "King was created in the Underworld. It makes him unique." "You mean he's a demon." Paul closed his eyes and shook his head. "Unbelievable." "He's not a demon," I said. "There's more to the Underworld than demons and evil spirits. We're not talking about heaven or hell. We're talking layers of this earth—layers that humans don't see."

His name was Kolta, a distant cousin of Kiona. Next came the old king of the minority shifters. He was a were panther with eyes full of wisdom but he was younger than Darryl. The king of the underworld was the oldest, fifty years older than Darryl but they both looked around the same age since they are both immortals. The king of the underworld also known as the king of demons was the only demon that could leave the underworld freely. He signed a pact with the rest of the council to keep his subjects solely in their domain since they were too destructive to live with other creatures on Earth.