Kings Path Novels & Stories

The silence that followed was absolute. Slowly, Karlo turned around. The expression on his face wasn't anger, it was a completely blank, hollow, void of pure, unadulterated carnage. The ruthless king who had built an empire on blood had finally revealed his single, fatal weakness to the world. He had tried to hide his little bird, but the hunters had smelled the gold on her gown.

The royal party left the capital at first light, the air crisp and heavy with the scent of pine and distant rain. Hooves thundered against the cobblestone streets as King Lucien led the column on his massive black warhorse, Caelan riding beside him on a silver-maned mare. Behind them rode a small but elite guard, and at the rear — deliberately placed — was Prince Rowan Draven.

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

Following the unfortunate demise of the esteemed and venerable Archbishop, he ascended to the esteemed position of the newly appointed Archbishop. Not only did he possess the formidable power and authority befitting the esteemed position of the Archbishop, but he also ascended to the esteemed role of the private tutor to the King, thereby acquiring the influential and commanding status akin to that of an Imperial Teacher. As the season of autumn gradually progresses, King Alexander finds himself experiencing a growing sense of physical discomfort, prompting him to discreetly request the presence of the esteemed Archbishop within the confines of the regal palace on multiple occasions. The con

he whispered. I stepped back. The moment I did, the barrier between him and the path solidified further, separating us completely. Not cruel. Just… final. I turned toward the shimmering trail again. It pulsed softly, waiting. Recognizing. Mine. The last words of the board echoed in my mind. The King has to forge his own path. I swallowed. Then took a step forward. Alone.

"Please king tell me where I and my horsemen are going to pass. Thank you." "If you are willing, join me. All the visitors that would like to do so will use the same path that I will take. After all this, I want everybody back to the castle in one piece, safe and sound. Do I make myself clear?" Pink-White announced. Silver was pleased with the king's decision. "Yes, your majesty, we give you our word," they all said. Everyone set on his journey after the king's command. Pink-White commanded Bolton to open the gateway to the road under the Green kingdom. It was hidden amongst the shrubs behind the door leading out of the servants quarters. He avoided using the passageways. He did not want any

"You sat in Cain Calloway’s chair, Eli. People have seriously been kicked out of the program for less. Okay, that’s a lie, but still. You basically told the king of the school to kick rocks. Do you even know who they are?" "The Calloways," I said, shrugging. "I saw the names. Rich, I assume?" "Rich?" Petra laughed, making this high-pitched sound that drew looks from a group of passing freshmen. "Their family basically owns half of this state, Eli. They’re huge legacy students—like, their great-grandfather built the library. Cain is the intense one, and Cole is the one who looks like he’s constantly plotting something sketchy. They don't talk to people, and they definitely don't let people st

At the center of the passage stood a vast structure. Seven archways. Each different. Each incomplete. The First King stopped before them. For the first time in centuries, something resembling emotion crossed his face. Not joy. Not anger. Recognition. "Seven paths," he murmured. A voice echoed faintly from the darkness behind the arches. Not human. Not wolf. Something else. Something older. Only one returns. The First King smiled. "Then I will be the exception." And he stepped forward.

The Old King's Road was a ghost of a path, a ribbon of packed earth and loose stone that clung precariously to the mountainside. It was a journey measured not in miles, but in the slow, grinding ache of muscles and the perpetual dust that coated the tongue. Kaelen and his ten men, clad in the rough-spun wool and worn leather of pilgrims, moved with a grim, tireless purpose. They were not a king's retinue; they were a pack of wolves in sheep's clothing, their true nature concealed but not extinguished.

~Valeria~ Dad was explaining something about the Royal Altar when I sat up straighter, making Lysander's head slide off my lap. "Wait," I said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "The Royal Altar? Is that going to be of any help to our problem?” "Yes," Dad said. "It's where the original Alpha Kings were crowned. Where the royal bloodline's power is strongest. If we're going to find answers about stopping the Dark Wolf King, that's where we need to look."