Mumford Sons Broken Crown Novels & Stories

"Now that I have everyone's attention I would like to announce a press conference for official releases of this news and after that a celebratory party from me to the new C.E.O of Miller Hotel Corporation. Adam if you could address the managers." Adam stood up and took the center as Nick sat down. His muscles flexed as he moved and I gulped. A sudden memory of his arms wrapped around me flooded back into my mind. I closed my eyes and thought, Oh stop torturing yourself, Claire. 'Good evening everyone..." Adam started saying and I drowned in his voice. That husky, strong voice. I clenched my hands and took a deep breath I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying I was just listening to his

then he chuckled insultingly and stepped closer to his son. “Everything I had worked will never be enough for you dad!” Demir mumbled. Mr. Krumpus shook his head. “No, my dear son because everything you had was mine. All you did was to maintain it and yet you could not maintain it at all. I needed to work behind to fix the mess just like right now outside, media and paparazzi were waiting to see our downfall.” he pointed the window. “But the hell you care about this? No! And never that you will care for the company because you’re selfish!”

I didn't know whether to be scared or not; uncuffing me could mean a lot of things. “I don’t want to be a Luna; I have never wanted to be a Luna. If Jimmy can just break the bond, I would disappear and never be seen again, and you can be his Luna. You guys can be happy together forever.” I tried to explain, desperately hoping she would speak to him and end my misery for life. “You know his mum thinks I’m not good enough for her son. How did you even get to win her over? Everything I do seems to piss her off.” Karen replied, and for a split moment, I almost thought we were back to being friends.

“Keep them coming.” The first one scorched. The second numbed. By the third, the fire in my chest loosened into something resembling release. I stared at the empty glass and thought of my mother, sitting at our kitchen table with her wedding ring still on after my father left her for another woman. She used to whisper to me, Never trust too much. People always show their teeth eventually. I should have listened. But love, love makes fools out of even doctors who spend their lives diagnosing problems. I couldn’t diagnose my own heartbreak until it was terminal.

How could I let his sacrifice be in vain? I pulled out my phone and opened the only unread message. I called the anonymous number without a second thought. … Stepping out of the funeral home with Dad's ashes, the sky opened up. I did not bother with an umbrella. The rain turned my wounds pale and raw, the chill seeping deep into my bones. However, my heart was already icy, just like the ashes I carried. Right then, the shrill roar of an engine sliced through the downpour. A sleek black Maybach screeched to a halt in front of me, its tires cruelly splashing a wave of muddy water from a puddle, soaking me to the skin.

Adrian: You think you are ready for the consequences. Jamie’s fingers hovered. Jamie: I think I am tired of being shielded like I am fragile. Several seconds passed. Adrian: You are not fragile. Jamie: Then stop treating me like I am. The screen stayed silent. Jamie stared at it — heart pounding — until the bar door opened behind him. “Break’s over,” Mara called. Jamie slipped his phone away, frustration simmering. Inside, the bar felt louder now — heat rising from bodies packed close together. Someone knocked into his shoulder. Someone else laughed too loudly. Jamie worked harder than necessary — pouring drinks faster, wiping counters with unnecessary force.

“F*ck! I get your point, but have you ever thought about how humiliating it must be for them? Your teachers are professionals, Crown. They’ve dedicated years to their craft, and you’re tearing them down in front of their students.” His gray eyes bore into his son’s, frustration evident in his expression. Crown, at just sixteen, was already a senior in high school—a prodigy, excelling in everything he set his mind to. However, his intelligence came with a drawback: boredom. When things became too easy, he sought entertainment, often at the expense of others. Ceynol had lost track of the number of teachers who had resigned due to Crown's antics. It was as if his son found amusement in testing

she murmured, half to herself, eyes fixed on its brutal beauty. “Different?” Maxim’s voice roughened into a growl as he stepped up beside her, towering and close enough that she could feel the heat of his presence. “This crown was made to break men, Zara. To bind them in chains while it whispers promises of power. My father wore it, and it hollowed him until there was nothing left. His father before him met the same fate. And now—” He broke off, leather gloves creaking as his hands clenched.

“You knew who she was. You killed her family and then you made me watch her suffer for thirteen years. You put needles in my arm so I wouldn't remember that I loved her.” Rowan stood up slowly. He was still taller than me, still stronger. “I did what was necessary for the pack. A Thorne on the throne would have meant war with the Highborn. I gave us peace. I gave you a crown.” “I don't want it,” I said. I spat on his expensive rug. “I’d rather be a servant with her than an Alpha with you.” Rowan’s jaw tightened. “You’re acting like a child. The bond is broken. She rejected you. It’s over. Go find a high-ranking female and move on.”

“It’s neither.” Ronan swallowed, eyes fixed on Lyra. “It’s the Crown. It felt the shift. It knows the Trial is broken.” Lyra exhaled slowly. “Not broken. Changed.” Aethren stepped forward, the white glow in his scars brightening. “The Crown of Marrow is older than kingdoms. It was forged when the first wolves stood upright. It answers only to two things: obedience… or defiance.” He looked at Lyra with something close to reverence — and fear.