Noblesse: Beginning Of Destruction Novels & Stories

"He chose a crown over a soul. Don't waste your grief on a man who died the moment he touched that remote." "It’s not just grief, Sofia. It’s an end," Nomo said, pushing himself up. He ignored the blood trickling from the silver-burns on his wrists. He stood before her, and for the first time in his life, he didn't look like a Montague scion or a reluctant heir. He looked like a man who had finally found the bottom of his own abyss. He dropped to one knee in the knee-deep sludge, his head bowed. "The Montague name is ash to me now. My family’s resources, the hidden caches in the Abribi District, the loyalty of the three covens I still command... they aren't his anymore. They’re yours. I pled

“Destruction isn’t justice.” Brandon searched her face. “They’ll fight you,” he said. “They’ll make it ugly.” “They already have,” she replied. “Justice isn’t clean. But it’s the only thing that ends this without creating another grave.” He exhaled, slow. “I’d follow you anywhere,” he said. “Even into hell.” Julia stepped into him then, pressing her forehead to his chest. “I don’t want hell,” she said. “I want the truth to stand in the light long enough to matter.”

"What's relevant is that I understand what it's like to want revenge and I understand what it's like to need help getting it." She was quiet again. Then she said, "There's something else going on. Something bigger than just Damien trying to steal my inheritance." "What do you mean?" "I found a letter from my father. He said my mother's death wasn't an accident and that someone killed her to get access to the company." She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture of the letter. "He mentioned offshore accounts, but I don't know where they are or what's in them." I read the letter carefully. This changed things. If Aurora's mother had been murdered, then Damien's betrayal was part of a long

"The Church is hungry. The Church demands more." Camilla's smile faltered. "This wasn't supposed to happen yet." Lucien lowered the knife. "What's going on?" The names began to crack and the stone split, dust rained down. The candles flared, then died, plunging them into darkness broken only by glowing names. Gabriel's voice…their voices—rose to a shriek. "Blood calls to blood. The heir must choose. The bloodline burns or is reborn." Catalina's knees buckled. She didn't understand.

"Why tell me this? Why not just let me die ignorant?" "Because Marcus died ignorant. He never knew I was his destroyer. Never understood how completely I owned him. But you—you get to know. You get to see the architecture of your ruin. That is my gift to you. Complete awareness as everything burns." "What about Grace? Your grandniece? You will destroy her life too?" Knox's expression flickered. Just for a second. "Grace is unfortunate collateral. But necessary. The Cross bloodline ends today. Completely. No survivors. No legacy."

“The ancestors’ glory? Traditional virtues? That’s all talk for the weak!” Behind him, Skylar let out a low, mocking purr. It was the sound of a predator toying with its food, dripping with contempt. “Look at you, all you so-called nobles.” Nolan’s gaze swept over the crowd before landing on me, sharp and piercing as a shard of ice. Contempt dripped from his every glance. “Always talking about bloodlines. But what do you have besides your titles? Who here has actually torn out an enemy’s throat with their own claws?”

I shot back, eyes blazing. “Valmore is no ordinary kingdom, and Sebastian is no ordinary king. He commands armies with a glance, razes nations with a thought. Do you really believe you can fight him and live?” “I don’t care!” I roared, my voice echoing against the chamber walls. He held his silence, his disapproval like a blade pressed against my pride. “What he took was mine,” I snarled. “Olivia was mine. The throne was mine.” My uncle’s temper cracked for the first time, his voice rising like thunder. “She is no longer yours! The sooner you accept that truth, the sooner you will stop dragging us all into ruin. If you choose destruction, you walk it alone. I will not follow you into madness

she said, “we rebuild.” Lillian remained on the balcony long after the court had dispersed. The wind carried the distant sounds of the city below—whispers of a kingdom standing on the edge of transformation. The Moonborn Throne was gone. The past had been shattered. And now, the future stretched before her, uncertain and vast. Aedric stood beside her, his golden eyes reflecting the moonlight. “The nobles accepted your claim today,” he said. “But acceptance is not the same as loyalty. Some of them are waiting to see if you falter.”

Reaching down, I pluck a single glass from the base of the towering pyramid. And then—chaos. The entire structure collapses in a symphony of shattering glass and gasps. Champagne splashes across the table, spilling onto the expensive floors. The sound is deafening, the kind of noise that demands attention. And I have it. Every eye in the room turns to me. I don’t flinch. I don’t waver. Instead, I raise my own glass higher, a smirk curling at the corner of my lips. “Happy anniversary,” I say, voice laced with mockery.