King Roan The 100 Novels & Stories

“The reason I took you down here was to show you these pictures. This way, you will be able to recognize them later tonight. This first one here is of King Carlo, father of Prince Marco.” Sabrina looked at the picture of the man and instantly saw the resemblance to her lover. He had the same nose and sharp eyes. In the picture, the King was seated on a golden throne with a red velvet seat. He was wearing a dark blue robe, with intricate yellow designs sewn into it. The King's hair was white, but just as thick as his young son's. It took her a moment, but she recognized one of the photos from her interview as him. “He looks a lot like Marco,” Sabrina whispered, just loud enough for Winston to

Xavier looked down at the people who stood below him, then at the crown his father held in his hand. It was designed in a unique way, the color a dark shade of red to represent the Pack’s name; The red Blud Pack. Xavier wasn’t sure how to describe his current feelings, but pride ran like blood through his veins. He was about to be crowned king; an accomplishment he never thought a rogue like him could achieve. After the war, everything changed, even he did. He wasn’t the old Xavier anymore, he was Kaheel now, not the son of Alpha Gregory but the son of Alpha King Hayden.

This has always been the wish of all wolf leaders. I've been looking for it all these years, just unexpectedly at Brucer's place. No one knows about its shape or color except the king. Brucer probably doesn't know this either. The following day they threw me back into the training forest. David returned to his usual laziness. Jame looked at me provocatively, Brucer coldly standing next to David. The siren sounded immediately I leaped into the forest. Use the fastest speed to run straight ahead. The wind rushed into the young skin on the surface, deep into the wound which had not yet healed. I turned left and followed the circle, and then turned right. Initially, I thought about going back to

I stumbled back when my eyes fell on the black roots rising from the cracks on the ground. A loud roar poured from the king as one root tore through his leg. I thought my soul had ripped from me. Another large and black root tore through his stomach to the other side. His other leg was next and his arms. “Wanirace! Wanirace! Wanirace!” “NO please!” A root tore through his mouth with his jaw dislocating. The roots continued growing higher, rising with him pinned on them. He shook to show sign of life, blood running down the roots, his eyes wide and moving about in so much fear.