Opm King Novels & Stories

Even though the linen was barely transparent, she could still see the muscles on his chest, laughing back at her. “I need to find help,” “And how do you intend to do that?” the King folded his hands on his chest, “The last time I checked, the four major villages in Alaocha had converged to form a unit, including the numerous minor ones.” “I know, but all hopes are not lost,” King Obidike walked away from the table and sat on a small stool, carved out from a rock. The expression on his face was clearly out of place. The man knew how to hide his emotions, a trait Ada wished she had.

Neil stared at her, wondering why she was there. “Come.” She rose to her feet and moved towards him hesitantly. Neil who was watching her move timidly thought the wounds reopened. “Does it hurt?” “No.” “I will check myself.” He placed her on the bed and knelt before her to inspect her palms. “Your Majesty, how could you kneel? In front of a woman like me?” It made no sense to Keanna why this man, who was King, was kneeling in front of her. He opened his mouth to answer but closed it when he heard her stomach growling. Neil looked at her to find her head to the side and her cheeks red.

Queen was openly excited, but King seemed as cold and passive as always. Despite his outwardly expressionless demeanor, I was sure that King was happy to finally retire and hand over the management of the company to his only son, Reiner. The same day that King officially retired was also the day that Reiner officially succeeded him as the new CEO of the company. Even though, I knew that this day was coming, I still had very mixed feelings about Reiner taking over.

The alpha king- *25 years ago* “Omega?” The thirteenth prince could not help but ask out loud. Even though he was nothing but a mere forgotten prince of the kingdom, even he was well aware of the existence of omegas. In fact, there was no were wolf alive who did not know what the omegas were. They were believed to have the ability to producing the strongest and most dominant of alphas. This is one reason why his father, the current alpha king was obsessed with finding one.

When everyone boarded the car, Jason sat next to Simon, realizing that he was now not only a voter, but also a personal manager for this potential supermodel. Six models met to shoot a commercial for an online game about angels and devils, with a narrative based on dragons and fairy tales. According to speculations, “The Angel King” is financed by Clare Fashion Company, and this is a Chinese-style online game that reaches the worldwide market, properly constructed, taking only the products they play into consideration. It is sufficient to set out for advertising to see a portion of it.

Panic cut through the haze of heat. Arthur stumbled backward, his right hand flying instantly to the hilt of the ceremonial sword at his hip. His fingers fumbled against the leather grip. "Stay back," he rasped, his voice raw. He tried to draw the blade, but his wrist was weak, the steel catching in the scabbard with an uncoordinated, metallic screech. "I am your King, Malakor. Step back."

KING OMAS' POV:- Wearing my robe, I stepped out of my bedroom. My crown was on my head. I made my way straight towards the hall of throne. My name is King Omas. And I am the king of one of the few supernatural creature kingdoms. There were not many left. The humans took over all the Kingdoms. And we became minors. Humans were tricky. With all our powers, we still lost the fight against them. I was one of the rarest kind. I was a werelion. I was the only one living. In my kingdom, there were all kinds of creatures. And I was their king. And I did everything I could to keep it balanced.

“I’m sorry, madam. I’m just a driver. But maybe you should visit and see some places that play huge significant value to the history of Capria.” “See? You’re not just a driver. Tell me about the King?” “Ahh. America has no monarch, yeah? The first king was King Kamrun—” “Who?” “King Kamrun of Braynburg?” “Oh, and the current King?” “He’s critically ill.” His people must love the King if he didn't rule like in that 15th-century monarchies. “I’m sorry to hear about that.” My chest felt hollow. “The Prince apparent is Prince Isodore, Duke of Burkhese. You should visit Burkhese. It’s a great place, surrounded by the ocean. If you want to visit a little bit colder than Winterbourn, try Guardion.

The office door slams open violently, crashing against the wall with a bang that echoes through the small space. “What the hell?” my boss exclaims, releasing my arm as he turns his head to see who dares interrupt. In the doorway, the imposing figure of King Caelum stands out, his presence dominating the room like a storm ready to break. Behind him, five armed men follow, their expressions grim and alert, ready for anything. The king’s gaze is hard and purposeful, his green eyes fixed on my boss with an intensity that makes the air in the office feel even heavier.

His black uniform had touches of gold, a red ribbon across his chest, diamond buttons, a golden belt, and thousands of military decoration medals. I wasn't the only one noticing Omar's power and authority. The whole room became quiet, watching closely as he addressed our King, who had recovered enough to be present. People held their breaths as both monarchs exchanged greetings. Perhaps they expected to notice the slightest hint of rivalry or a wrong word that would ignite a frivolous war. But it didn't happen. How could it? Omar is the most innovative, polite, and down-to-earth person I have met, not counting my brother Carl. He didn't display his king status; on the contrary, I completely