Paul Atreides Novels & Stories

Oh this bastard, he made me almost lost my heartbeats. Actually, I don't mind being in this moment, it's just that the problem is the fact that I haven't showered in days and I'm sure I must look terrible right now. For a moment we let this silence continue, creating various questions in my mind why Arthur was acting this melancholy. “You alright?” I ventured to ask him. He didn’t answer. His eyes stare at mine, His two eyes flashed a shady and piercing gaze which made me not move from my position who was also looking at him.

he forcefully commanded, but Connor’s continued thoughts don’t want him to drag into the darkness of regrets. “Leave now…. We will be in peace—“ “I refuse! Hand me back my husband, Davon.” Connor’s face dims when looking at them. Paul twitches a slight smile on his face even his body is weak to move a single muscle out of the beat he receives. “I will not touch you nor threaten your soul…. Paul is now going back to The Eye. Together we will conquer to be unbeatable in the world of the black market. Paul’s talent is exceptional—“

“Boss? Cough… Cough.” Hill patted his shoulder, “Don’t push yourself too hard, Rill. Besides, why did you call me like that?” He doesn’t answer, but keep coughing hard. Hill shook his head before push his underling’s back, “Come on, Rill. We are running out of the time.” **** The Emperor of Atrazal, Arthur William Alexander IV, was working on his study room when an uninvited guest appeared. As he gets older, his insomnia is getting worse.

Micah asked, lifting a dark eyebrow in my direction. Micah looked every bit of what I imagined a High Lord would look like. His emerald tunic was etched in shimmering bronze, and every time he looked my way, I would get this whiff of fresh earth, blossoming flowers, and gentle wind. Like Atlas, his hair was perfectly in place and not a single scar or mark marred his tanned skin. The bronze sword he carried with him was in its scabbard, leaning against the gilded chair he sat upon. If this was Micah during vacation, I wondered what he looked like within the walls of his palace. Atlas sat in silence; his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to the conversation I had with Micah. Elden leaned back i

"Funny thing is, the deadliest betrayal usually comes from the people standing closest to you. You need to stay far, far away from your Uncle Paul. Power has eaten him alive. He’s not the same man who used to lift you onto his shoulders to pick apples. I’ve seen hints—tiny cracks in the dark—showing he’s been secretly dealing with outsiders. He sold out Silvermoon Pack’s patrol routes. Don’t trust anything he says. He’s a snake in a friendly mask, and sooner or later, he’ll bare his fangs at your throat." My nails dug so hard into my palm that the sting kept me sane. Paul… that hypocrite who climbed to power over my parents’ graves. He stole everything from me and even tried to wipe me off t

They were probably outcasts who had kicked out of packs and driven mad by the disease festered in their veins. Paul’s grip faltered for half a second as the realization settled like a stone in his gut. Paul stood at the center of it all, chest heaving, fists bloodied. Two unconscious rogues lay at his feet. The child clung to his leg, trembling but alive. No one said anything at first, even after they saw the glow in Paul’s eyes. Or even when they heard the weight in his voice. Because that's when they realized, this wasn’t the strength of an ordinary wolf.