Prince Novels & Stories

"Prince," Emily shook her bodyguard's arm, "answer me. What’s your real name? Are you Cayden?" Prince remained silent. His eyes fluttered. "Answer me, Prince. Who are you? Are you Cayden?" Emily's voice became more and more stressful. Suddenly, Prince let out a laugh. "You think of me as Cayden again? Do you expect your first love to be as handsome as me?" "I'm not joking, Prince! If you weren't Cayden, it’s impossible for you to know about that promise."

I know this face. The sharp jawline, the piercing eyes, the unmistakable aura of someone who carries the world on his shoulders. My fingers twitch as memories collide, photos, gossip, news headlines. I’ve seen this face before. “Wait,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “Gilan.” He blinks, narrowing his eyes at me. It is him. The prince. The man who married Amara. Amara.

He pecked her forehead and moved inside the mansion. "Da...da… " She started crying. Her cheeks were red. Rani Sa gave her a pacifier and distracted her attention from her father by showing her birds and butterflies that were just flying around. "Kavya, look at those butterflies." She walked to the rare black rose on which a colourful butterfly was sitting. Princess Kavya tried to grab the butterfly. In the meantime, Prince Jai Singh showered. His chestnut hair was neatly combed. Droplets were dripping from his hair. He wore his black yoga pants and white polo t-shirt. After getting ready, he went down to meet his daughter and h

And why was he alone? "Well met, Lord Jarrah," I said slowly, deciding on courtesy. "I greet you." "The little princess has manners and all. Would you look at that?" Jarrah's grin was truly nasty, full of squirming sadism. Then it hit me: 'princess.' He'd been watching us too. Damn him. "I am in search of your prince," I said, not cracking. I narrowed my eyes, hoping to disguise the fear there. "I know he's here."

Too late, his address for the other man filters through my brain. Your Highness. That must mean this is the prince, and Sinclair’s main opponent in the election. It’s no wonder I found him so imposing, or why he resembles the King so much. “Well, what more could we want in a Luna.” The Prince remarks, not sounding like he means a single word of this. “In fact, your loving display has inspired me! What’s say we play a game, to celebrate your new family?”

Words were useless when the truth was already staring back at you. “Mom and Dad, Evelyn, Esther…” My voice trembled, but I forced it louder, steadying it with fury. “We’ve been fooled. This… commoner here is no commoner. He’s no ordinary man. His name—his real name—is Prince Maximillian Sebastiani. The Crown Prince of Mercia. Imagine that.” “What?!” My sisters gasped, their eyes darting between me and him, their mouths hanging open in disbelief.

He said to me while spreading his hand widely as a way to express just how wild the news was. “How come I have never seen you or heard from anyone that there was a prince after Belen?” I said to him, “Don’t think Belen makes me feel that much. We only have a year gap from each other.” He joked. I was slowly doubting if he even heard the news of his father’s death because he seemed so calm about it. “What’s your name?” I asked the prince. “It’s Jade, Prince Jade .” He said before forwarding his hand to me for a handshake.

I will be your maid here, so order me what you want, please. Lian smiles at her fondly: Thank you, Lisa; you are really cute. shyly Lisa: Thank you, ma'am. Lynn licks her lips together. Lisa, may I ask a question? Lisa nodded quickly. Of course my lady is an American. Lian Potter: What is the safest What is the name of His Highness the Prince? Surprised Lisa: He is His Highness. Prince Maxus, the sixth prince among his brothers Lian is surprised:

Stepping out onto the terrace was five-year-old Crown Prince Silas. The young prince had grown rapidly, blessed with the supreme physical vitality of his parents' hybrid bloodline. He wore a tailored micro-velvet tunic of deep midnight blue, complete with miniature meteor-steel pauldrons across his shoulders that mirrored his father's combat gear. His dark curls fell framing a sharp, intelligent face, and his silver-gold eyes sparkled with bright, boundless energy.

Never. He bit my lower lip in answer—hard enough to draw blood, soft enough to make me shudder. He drank it in. When he pulled away, his eyes were darker, pupils blown wide, only to whisper against my mouth, “Never ever, my prince.” And before I could respond, he spun me around in a breath. My chest collided with the glass wall, cold as the night. “Now,” his breath was fire against my ear, pushing his hard dick into my ass, pulling out a strangled moan from my chest. “Be a good prince… and let me claim my prize.”