King Sorrow A Novel Novels & Stories

I whispered, leaning into him a little further. "I'm not looking for your apologies, princess. It's just something that happened. Something that changed who I was as a person, and personally, I would take it all over again, because even though I couldn't save that girl from death. She would have suffered a far worse fate if I hadn't stepped in that day. I hate to say it, but being there, being treated that way taught me a very valuable lesson. When I came from Carnavia, I was naive and far too ignorant for my own good. That was the first time I had ever seen anything like that happen, the first time I ever knew true pain, and it's something that I'll never forget. When I came here, I hadn't

Not now, not ever. The city seemed impossibly large and yet unbearably small. Every shadow might conceal danger, every alley might hide enemies, but Nicholas no longer feared. His grief was a weapon, sharpened by love and loss. And his heart, though fractured, beat for Rafe still, carrying the weight of every stolen kiss, every whispered confession, every night they had shared in both lust and longing. He turned back to the room, the journal still clutched to his chest, and allowed himself one final whisper into the darkness: “This world may have taken you, Rafe, but I will carry you with me, always. Every heartbeat. Every breath. Every sin. Every devotion.”

Chapter 37 Evelyn's Pov I thought I could have a peaceful night and sleep till dawn now that Draven was calm, or maybe I did had a peaceful sleep until I felt a very terrible heart pain that made me scream in shock and pain, startling Draven who laid beside me and staring at me with wide eyes as he examined my movements and sat up abruptly. The pain pierced through me like a burning flame being poured at the depth of my heart to scar me and I sat up immediately and let the tears fall. I didn't even know what made me cry and why I asked crying aside from the fact that It was too painful for me to bear.

"My dear Abrar, my Nila, Arian and Raisa, Tanjina, and everyone else, I am Nurul Islam Khan. Once, I was a monster. People were afraid of my name. I terrorised them, I committed crimes, I bought people for my own benefit. At the end of that monster's life, I saw that everything was empty. No money, no property, no love from my child. Arian, you changed me. Holding your hand, I found the path of light. Raisa, you served me like a daughter. Your son Abrar made me a grandfather. Tanjina came and brought light into the home. And Nila... Nila washed away all the sins of my life. My monster's life is over. I want to die as a human being. This is my request to you—when I die, do not shed tears. Bec

A chill slid down my spine. The Alpha King had arrived. He didn’t need to speak. The hall parted for him like prey before a predator. Alpha Draven Blackthorn was tall and powerfully built, dressed in dark leather that swallowed the torchlight. His steel-gray eyes—cold and empty—swept over the scene: the broken goblet, the spilled wine, the groaning elder on the floor. Then those eyes locked on me. “What is this?” His voice was low, sharp as a blade.

Willow directed them to her previous board where she was staying before shuffling around Reagan's other hideouts. Thankfully, it is still intact and no one came sniffing around. Willow took her clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower and get rid of the blood on her body. She feels dirty. It's as if the blood has absorbed into her pores. With each passing day, she is committing new sins. She is walking far from what she is. Before also she used to murder, kill. But then it was swift and not playing around. Now, she is torturing people with a cool precision that makes her shiver. She never knew she was dark inside. And this darkness is seeping out of her, pouring out with each pass

Morning came heavy, thick with guilt I couldn’t shake. I stared at my reflection, trying to fix the mess inside me with a brush and concealer. It didn’t work. Nothing could hide the fact that I’d let him kiss me again. Ricardo Falconeri. My mother’s new husband’s son. My stepbrother. Even thinking the word made my stomach twist. I told myself to stop, to forget, but the memory wouldn’t go away, the way he’d pulled me close, the sound of his voice when he called me butterfly.

Her smile, laced with blood, looked haunting. A Haunt swept in, scattering the cash and gold bars from the car. Sparks flew, and the flames roared to life with a loud whoosh. I pulled a gold bar from my pocket. "Hear me, infant spirits, it's time for our final showdown!" The winds howled as I watched my mom wail in despair. Her tears were for her wealth, not a shred of worry for me. I spun around and plunged into the swirling darkness without a second thought.

Literally. I sprint towards it, hope beaming inside me. I find myself in a vast place, that all feels all too familiar. My heart shatters to a million pieces when realisation hits me. I'm reliving Hunter's death, but instead I'm a spectator. I watch helplessly as past me fumbles with his chains.

She was on her stomach, one arm hanging off the edge of the bed, her face soft and peaceful in sleep. She was beautiful. Not in the way I was used to. Not the polished, calculated beauty of the women who circled my life like sharks smelling money. This was something different. Something warm. Something real. I sat up slowly and rubbed my face. My head was pounding and my mouth tasted like regret. I looked around the penthouse and tried to piece together what had happened. Clothes everywhere. A champagne bottle lying empty on the bathroom floor. My wallet on the dining table next to her phone, both dead.