Queen Of Ink Novels & Stories

It is quite obvious that these past few days have changed her, but I have to remind her who I am so she can have the appropriate attitude toward me. I give her a box and tell her that inside is the first crown that I have worn when I became the queen of futanari. What I do not warn her is that crown is magic, it might look beautiful, filled with diamonds, but the trick to it is that whoever wears it has to be worthy of it, as it reads minds and does magic accordingly to the behavior and thinking of the one wearing it. I put it slowly on her head and tell her to wear it for the entire night, as she will have a surprise the next day.

Every being has a light in them, but something would have stirred the darkness within them, and as long as there is light, there shall be the dark. I am the Queen Of All Vampire's Kings and the Witch of the New World. Even though, I have no idea how to end the war between all these creatures, I have got lessons to learn along the way.

“I found this hidden in the ruins of Elaina’s apartment, under the floorboard. It was protected with blood-magic.” Valen snatched it, unrolling the parchment as Lucien stepped beside him. All three men read the words scrawled in deep crimson ink: “One queen. Two kings. One will rise. One will fall. One will be forgotten.” The silence that followed was heavy. Lucien’s expression became unreadable. Valen’s jaw clenched. “Who wrote this?” Valen asked sharply. “It was sealed in a way only a Fire Queen could unbind,” Kade replied. “Which means—”

But then, watching the same people over and over again gets boring overtime. Diving into the book, I reopen to one of my favorite parts of the lycan battles. It is the chapter where the lycan king was brought to his knees by the queen, and makes she him beg her for his life. He wasn’t expecting her, or that she would even do something like that. It is what makes me like it more. I feel like I relate to the queen well. She has always been undermined and underrated, then she wound her full potential and—

“But if he is your mate, why have you accepted each other now? Since I presume that, if you are, you knew it from the time Eric was in the royal pack.” I sigh at his disturbing questions, continually reminding myself that this was who Adair was. An inquisitor. I told him. “That’s a story for another time, Adair. Take comfort in knowing that both are my mates. You already know Eric, but let me introduce you to Isabella.” Without thinking, Adair extends his hand to shake it. Isabella reciprocates politely. He automatically turns her hand and looks at her tattoo. “What does this mean?” Isabella, uncomfortable by his grip, breaks free from his grip and goes back to hugging Eric. I calmly reply,

The chamber was silent save for the soft gliding of a feathered ink pen across a parchment. Seated behind her gilded desk was a queen, her posture regal, her expression composed yet thoughtful. Candlelight flickered gently upon her features, casting long shadows that danced across the marble walls. It was Micah. With each stroke, the quill moved gracefully, its dark ink flowing in steady lines—measured, deliberate, and unhurried. Occasionally, her gaze drifted to the moon outside, and in that stillness, the moonlight caught the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.

"The Queen didn't sign the treaty with ink! She signed it with the volume of the blood-marrow! The Cartel doesn't want the land, they want the caloric yield!" The twisted flue-tubes of the boiler-core shot like a nest of brass lances, their white-hot tips driving straight through the Compositor’s oil-cloth shoulder. The impact was not an explosion; it was a catastrophic reversal of the layout. The river of lead type beneath their feet did not scatter; it magnetized instantly, the millions of reversed letters locking together edge-to-edge until the slanted floor turned into a mile-wide printing plate that carried the negative engraving of every house, every stable and every well from the coas

of the moon. The Queen let out a scream of pain as her connection to the Void-Eater was cut. Her scepter broke, the bone pieces turning to dust. "This isn't over!" she hissed, her skin starting to crack and peel like paper. "The Fifth Seal is already broken! The Earth-Shaker is awake. He is not your friend, Elowen!" Before I could hit her again the Queen turned into a puddle of ink, which went into the deck and disappeared into the sea.

Kiana watches her, a small smile resting on her lips. There is something comforting about this. The movement. The voices. The certainty that everything is coming together. “Do you like it?” the Queen asks suddenly, turning back to her. Kiana blinks, then looks down at herself. At the fabric. At the details. At the care woven into every thread. “Yes,” she says softly. Then, with more certainty, “I love it.” The Queen’s expression softens. “Good,” she says. “It should be worthy of you.”

"He tried to erase me. But I am the Origin. I am the daughter of the ink and the mother of the fire." I looked at the ten thousand, their faces lit with a new, terrifying hope. "We are going home," I repeated, my eyes burning with a light that could melt the stars. "And we are going home to kill a King." As I stepped toward the golden tear, the world behind me began to dissolve for the l ast time. But I wasn't afraid. I wasn't a girl with a pencil anymore. I was a Queen with a crown of fire, and the North was about to learn that some things, once rejected, are better left dead.