Queen Of Rot And Pain Novels & Stories

The queen’s shadow reached through the rift, fingers of smoke stretching toward her chest. For a heartbeat, she thought she would break. That the missing piece inside her would tear free. But then—another voice cut through. Not Damian’s. Not the Seer’s. Her own. “I am not your echo. I am your correction.” The pendant detonated in a burst of white fire. The eyes screamed as one, shriveling into smoke. The queen’s shadow recoiled, retreating into the mist, her last words trailing like ash: “Day four will claim you.”

As I wandered from one aisle to the next, I found myself whispering silent prayers to the Goddess, asking for a clue, a name, anything that might save us both. Then I saw it. King’s Rot. The title, stamped in faded gold across a dark leather spine, caught my eye from between a thick medical text on lycan physiology and a tablet docked on the shelf beside it. My breath caught. I reached for it, easing the book free with both hands. The leather creaked softly as I opened it. Its pages were brittle with age, their edges yellowed and worn, yet the writing remained remarkably clear. Notes from healers long gone filled the margins, written in different hands and different inks, as though each had

My cock was painful, as it couldn’t get free, along with wanting to be the one that thrust inside of her. I watch for several hours as Queenie gets raped by at least four men. I vow I will kill each one of them. My mind plays tricks on me. I could swear I heard her moan my name once or twice. The sick pricks were right about one thing, though, Queen wouldn't be the one to kill them. I was going to make it hurt. I will lay their bodies at her feet as a tribute to my Queen.

They sat the healer in a chair, the maid brought him a glass of water and when the attack passed, Mortus continued. “She brought this strange creature with her. A monster with either a mermaid’s tail or octopus’s tentacles. Since that cursed night, I have been bound by an oath to protect the secret of the Queen aging and to help her in every way otherwise… I will be subjected to excruciating torture and killed. Oh, lady, I'm weak, so weak...” tears rolled down his cheeks. “Regina herself comes from the part of Sorfmaran where the magic forest is located and fairies live. In fact, she bewitched the king, fell in love with herself.”

"It's building something and asking someone to keep it with you. I'm not collecting anything tonight, Zariah. Debts are dead. Your hand is your own. I'm on my knees in front of everyone who ever wanted you gone, asking for the one thing that can't be taken, or bought, or collected." The box opened. The whole ballroom made a sound. "Marry me," I said. "Be my queen because you choose to. Say yes, and say no, and I'll still build you a hundred clinics and stand behind them where I scare the clients. But God help me, woman-" and my voice cracked, once, in front of four hundred people, my voice, cracking "-please say yes." Zariah’s POV

"Wearing a crown. Coiled around a broken sword." Varek took one slow step back. Boots bolted to the floor. "That line is dead," Varek said. The words came out like gravel. "The Sovereign King and his wife burned in the Sector Four sweeps. Ten years ago. There was no child." "The girl is twenty," Tor said. Voice coming back now. Harder. Like he'd made a decision. "She grew up in Sector Four. She fights with the Sovereign form... you saw it yourself in the hallway. And her father isn't hiding from a shipping debt." Something moved in Tor's face. Something complicated and old and guilty. "He's a Royal Guard. He's been keeping her buried in the outer rim for ten years to keep her breathing."

Giovanni challenges. "And I will love you so deeply that you will regret causing pain to me." Everly challenges back. "Time will tell who's going to win. Pain Or Love." Giovanni says before storming out of the room leaving Everly all alone.

Not by name. Not yet. By position. By presence. By the way they stand close together, uncertain, watching. Fear holds them in place. Not loud fear. Quiet fear. The kind that spreads slowly through the body until movement becomes impossible. My gaze moves to the Queen first. She stands tall despite the tension in her shoulders. Her face is composed, carefully controlled, but grief lingers beneath the surface. I see it in the tightness around her eyes. In the way her hands remain clasped too tightly before her.

I get so close to the werewolf that I feel its breath all over my body, and then the beast talks. "I am Manure, the maze keeper and you have trespassed my property and no one gets out alive!" I start laughing a bit and then introduce myself as the Queen of Futanari, soon to be the ruler of all the lands. Manure gets angry at my laughing and roars like a lion. I let him know that he won't scare me whatever he does. Manure slowly approaches me, testing me, to tell the truth, that I feel no fear toward him, and gets one of his paws up with very sharp claws and heads it toward my neck.

But then a voice cut through our amusement so that I was reminded of my next segment of today “You all are going to die miserable deaths. This isn’t victory and you know with.” The voice and we all turned to see that it was the Rotter Queen who had spoken. She had finally woken up from her slumber and was now struggling to get freed from the tree I had chained her too. With the noise, Ivanka was beginning to grow conscious too-- Balif was a special case. I rose to my feet now and clenched my fists with a wicked smile on my face.