Kings Of Wrath Novels & Stories

Mummo nods to my mates, making me smile. “Alphas of Blood Moon and Wolf Creek, Kings of the Bloodwrath Kingdom; do Blood Moon and the Bloodwrath Kingdom swear loyalty to the realm and the Hale Kingdom, to protect the realm of werewolves, lycans, and vampires alike?” Mummo requests, as Osric grabs the dagger first, passing it to Jonathan, and then Embry as they take their turn slicing their hands and bleed into the goblet.

He opened his eyes and looked in his direction. Vikram: "I want to talk to you." Agastya got up and stood in front of Vikram. Agastya: "What do you want to talk about?" Vikram, "After refusing several times, you agreed to become the king. You are the king now. Your clan follows your orders. What next?" Agastya, "The vampires and werewolves are sworn enemies. And they should always remain enemies." Vikram: "What's going on in your mind?"

Because the Kings had done something unforgivable. They had made defiance elegant. And power, real power could not ignore that.

Justice’s eyes narrowed, instantly recognizing who they were. “November James and her human.” Victor smiles. “That… is our King. We must protect him at all cost… from the Luna Puers… from the four Packs of the North…from the infamous Na Caomhnóirí. Killers of half-bloods and human mates. And any other enemies.” “I do not bow down to November James and I will never have a human as my King!” Justice snarled, “Humans make me sick.” “Might as well accept it, kid.” Victor continued to look down, “There will be war inside the Luna Puer Pack soon and you will have to fight for what is right…”

King Hudson's eyes flashed threateningly. "I am ashamed of my sister's actions, King Chadrick. In retribution, I will set free all of the Keladian men still held in my prisons, effective immediately. There are no ill intentions on our part. We are werewolves. We are volatile and violent by nature." The Alpha King said. "She hit me first! Is nobody going to acknowledge that?! This is ridiculous. Two kings are freeing war prisoners in a matter of days to keep her happy!!" Arona scoffed. "Hud, she hit me first!" She insisted, pointing at her cheek vehemently.

“We’ve been away from the myriad realms for a long time, so we are unfamiliar with many of the current powerhouses and living beings.” “Indeed.” Jaime nodded. “You are all great Wyrth powerhouses, so allow me to give you a brief introduction.” With that, he made a gesture in the void in front of him, conjuring a long scroll that glowed with brilliant colors. Each face on the scroll left a deep impression on James and Thea’s souls. The Thirteen War Kings of the Jademora Empire included the First War King, Seraphon War King, who was Clayton Sindward.

His frustration with their cowardice mingled with his own grief over Rogers' death, fueling the inferno of anger within him. "You should have fought! You should have given everything to avenge Rogers!" King Rico's words lashed out like a whip, the intensity of his emotions seeping into every syllable. "But you returned here, leaving his killer to roam free. How can I call you my loyal subjects if you fail even in the face of adversity?" The werewolves glanced at each other, their hearts pounding in their chests. They knew their king's fury was justified, but they also knew they had underestimated the strength of their opponent. The masked warrior's abilities were otherworldly, and they feare

"You still don't get it, do you?" When no reply came, Stefanos sighed, nodding his head. "Fine." The smirk in the Kings face began to falter as the sound of bones crushing and snapping reached his ears. Groans and moans escaped, making the King stumble backwards before he fell back on his butt, staring with horror evident in his eyes. "Sire..." Wraya muttered, a small smile gracing his lips as he felt a sudden surge of energy in his veins. He felt proud. For there stood Stefanos in his full glory, black fur shining lustrously as he growled threateningly at the King, his large figure dominating everyone else.

With unyielding determination, King Alaric charged forward, his sword raised high, ready to avenge the fallen kings. The clash between King Alaric and King Maximilian was fierce, their blades meeting with a resounding clash that echoed through the battlefield. Each strike was fueled by a torrent of emotions — anger, sorrow, and an unwavering desire for justice. King Alaric fought with the strength of a wounded lion, his movements swift and purposeful.

Power, thick and undeniable, crackled around him as his wolf came forward. “I claim it because it’s my birthright!” Greg’s mouth parted a flicker of confusion and something almost like fear flashed across his face. “Wha---” “My name is Ryan Christopher David King,” he growled, his voice ringing through the clearing, undeniable in its authority. “Son of Mark and Irene King, King and Queen of the werewolves. And the true heir to the werewolf throne.”