Princess Sacrifice Novels & Stories

"Speak!" "Regarding the 'Moon Shard'…" Silas’s voice began to tremble. "It was not used by the princess directly. It was… the entry fee for the 'Ritual of Power Sacrifice.'" The color drained from Damien's face. "Power Sacrifice?" "Yes, my lord. Three hundred years ago, when you were ambushed by the Ravenclaw clan and on the brink of death… the princess, only eighteen years old, traded the 'Moon Shard' for the right to perform the ritual."

But Elara tasted the poison beneath every smile. She swept into the hall beside her parents, Kael just behind, her gown of deep green catching the candlelight. Nobles bowed their heads, though their eyes followed her like hawks. Already the whispers had begun: The princess and the Ironfang heir. A match written by politics… or by fate. Her stomach twisted.

It can’t be. I heard the King sigh. “They should be enough sacrifice for the Witches, right?” He’s associating himself with witches? We’re supposed to be mortal enemies. “Now all we need is the Princess to get pregnant with a cub, then we can use it as the final sacrifice for the spell.” My hand instinctively went to my abdomen, as I felt tears sting my eyes. What the hell am I hearing? Sacrifice? My baby? My Pack? What the hell is all these?

she asked. "I do...I don't..maybe" I kept saying rubbish. "I'm a princess, an unexpected event happens and I need to sacrifice seven promiscuous people like you, that you must have a taste of any lady you set your eyes on, your downfall is buried in your manhood, congratulations if you can control it, but if you can't, congratulation also, one is better than the other, my mate must survive" "And you're the first prey!!" she shouted and my apartment began to rotate.

“What do we need to do?” “Sacrifice the princess.” “What?” “She represents the tribespeople, so she is the perfect sacrifice. It’s not enough to make up for all the lives we’ve lost. You are fortunate our Goddess is merciful and willing to accept just one sacrifice.” As the priestess’s words sank into the acting chief’s mind, he felt as if he had struck gold. What could be better than this? The princess was the only thing standing between him and his quest for power. Without her in the picture, there’d be no one in his way.

“The world bends. A storm is on its way. But what should frighten you more is not what approaches… it is what she could become.” “She?” Moira asked, but she already knew. “The new princess. She walks the line between light and dark,” Octavia warned. Her image in the mirror seemed to pulse with every word. “If she commits the unthinkable, the darkness will claim her. And if she falls, the prince will follow.” Moira swallowed hard. “Tobias would never—” “His love clouds his judgment. He would burn the world for her,” Octavia said, her voice nearly a whisper now. “And if the fated pair burns… the rest may go with them.”

I smiled as well. "do you know Princess Dahlia?" I asked. I've been hearing that name since earlier, I'm curious about her. "she's one scary Princess. I don't like her" she pouted. "why? she's a Princess after all, you should like a Princess like you" I answered. "she's so mean. She's selfish, she's a brat, she's noisy and she's very annoying" she fussed. I laughed. "do you hate her that much?" I asked.

Thank God I didn't say the first that came to mind as soon as I opened the door or else I would have ended up calling the Queen “a daft idiot who doesn't get the point once because his ego is too bruised by a woman punching him. " I just swallowed and held the door wide open for her. “My Queen." Though my head was bowed, I could feel her death glare drilling holes into my head. “Mother." The Princess called her attention away from me and she walked into the room. Without wasting any more time, I walked out of the room and closed the door. At first, the room was silent and I was so happy I wasn't the Princess at that moment. However, I wasn't surprised because the tension between the princess

Queen Isolde was the first to break it, her regal composure cracking slightly. "Spoons?" she exclaimed, her voice incredulous. "Iron spoons? My King, surely this man's recording device is faulty! Our daughter, the heir to the vast wealth of Equedore, wouldn't risk her reputation, our family's honor, for a couple of common eating utensils!"

The warmth of the seared duck breast, the sticky cherry reduction, the buttery smooth potatoes, and the gold-dusted garnish smashed against my chest and splattered across my lap, staining the crimson satin of my dress like some absurd, luxurious murder scene. I gasped. The entire room did. And then — she grabbed the glass of champagne and dumped it over my head. The lavender-infused liquid stung my eyes, burning and blurring my vision, dripping down my face in sticky-sweet trails. “Zara!” Creed roared, yanking her arm. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” She spun on him, defensive, chest heaving. “She’s ruining you! Can’t you see that? She’s sneaky, fake, she’s playing you, Creed! I’m doing