My Dear Cold Blooded King Anime Mga Nobela at Kwento

Instead… They took him to the citadel. To the throne. He remembered the moment clearly. The enormous throne room. The pillars carved from bone. And the figure seated above it all. The Demon King. King Vaelreth had watched him for a long time. Adrian had been too exhausted to kneel. Too tired to pretend fear he didn’t feel. “You crossed into my kingdom,” the king said. “Yes.” “You killed one of my kind.” “Yes.” Golden eyes studied him.

Even the forest stilled. I hadn’t meant to say it. I hadn’t wanted to. But my instincts betrayed me—and everyone heard it. Then the moon dipped behind clouds, and her scent shifted. A werewolf. My stomach turned for a second, disgust threatening to override everything. And yet… the pull toward her grew stronger. Matif’s voice broke the silence. “The Cold King will be burned.” I narrowed my eyes. “You knew this prophecy applied to me?” He nodded solemnly. “Congratulations, my king. You’ve found your fated mate.”

Vragenn sat down and leaned towards Aira. “Choose,” the king commanded quietly. - What? - Ira stared at him blankly. - Choose those girls who will be your personal maids and your cattle. These words sounded as if by chance, but Ira seemed to awaken from a dream. - With a cat? I won't drink blood! I will end my worthless life and take your offspring to the demon mother! The yellow eyes flashed with irritation. The collar began to heat up. Ira stared triumphantly at the ugly scars on the king's face.

Still deeply angered in his heart, but with a mildly calm expression on his face, Kal slowly walked forward coming to a stop right in front of Locan, gripping Locan's sword in his hand. "Don't worry, I'm sure…" Locan began talking, but even before he was halfway done, Kal moved his hand, slashing his head cleanly off his neck in one big movement, watching him plop heavily the ground as his blood littered the floor. The silence in the room was palpable. Geran would have made one of his many jokes, but he knew that the atmosphere wasn't right for it, especially since the king just died, and the new king, was truly going to be a one-armed one.

I cut his hand, and mine, mixing our blood, singing the sacred words, letting them fly over the people, into their heart and out into the world and sky. Mom and dad crown us, and we turn as our cut has healed. “Presenting, Alpha Queen Athena Avalon Astor and King consort Caspian Sunborn Wilde Darkmoon of the Umbral Moon pack.”

He was happy. Delilah smirked. Linda let out a breath of relief. For a moment, everything felt… right. But then— A sharp gasp cut through the air. I turned. The Lycan King’s eyes widened, his goblet slipping from his fingers. A dark stain spread across his robes—blood. A knife was buried deep in his chest. Gasps filled the hall as the king staggered back, choking. And then— He collapsed. Dead. Chaos erupted. Warriors scrambled, guests screamed, and people ran for the exits. The scent of blood filled the air.

“I grow tired. What did they see?” “The King has returned,” the small human rasps. “The true king is back, and he’s gone mad.” “Perfect,” a fang slips forward as my large lips curl into a serpentine smile. “Come here, child.” The young one steps forward without even the smallest trace of fear. He was raised for this purpose, after all. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and call to the blood within his young body. As I devour him from the inside out, his screams become louder in my newly refreshed years as my vision clears, allowing me to watch the young human fall to the ground as a discarded husk.

"If I catch you conspiring behind my back again, there won't be a second chance." Elijah storms inside, leaving Vincent and me behind. With unsteady steps, Vincent helps me to my feet. I can see the grief clouding his face. "I'm sorry, Vincent," I say, feeling a wave of guilt. "This is my fault, my queen. I deserve King Elijah's punishment." Vincent forces a bitter smile. "King Elijah is a merciful king. If he were like the others, I wouldn't be alive." A shiver runs down my spine. Are the other kings crueler and barbaric?

Just like every other time, I felt like I didn’t understand the relation of those words to anything but then now, strangely, it made sense to an extent. I looked back to the figure whom my mother had just called the once true King and I settled in my thoughts with my gaze on him. So he was the King who had died in the prophecy— the King who had been killed, but not by his enemy. If he wasn’t killed by his enemy, then which ally killed him? And why was he killed? I recalled Anne telling me that the Dark One is the first Ferals so how was he made a Feral? I turned my gaze to look at Landon and Anita now— how is he their real father?

“I, Landon McBroom, Alpha of the United Kingdom and King of the werewolves, swear to live to protect you, Brooklyn McBroom — my mate, Luna, and Queen — until the day I die.” I hate those last words. I don’t want him to die. Ever. But before I can correct him, he nudges his head forward. Curious, I look behind me. Mike, who stands in the middle of the crowd, bends his knee. “Until the day I die.” Alan and James follow. “Until the day I die.” “Until the day I die,” Logan and Billie fall next, Maddie not far behind them. Soon, the sea of heads bends their knees, chorusing,