Regal Novels & Stories

Chapter 8 Hannah's POV The news of the annual corporate party hit the 12th floor like a lightning strike. In a building made of glass and cold calculations, the "Cromwell Legacy Gala" was the only night where the hierarchy supposedly blurred—though everyone knew it was just a more expensive stage for the same power plays. The announcement appeared on every monitor in the building at exactly 9:00 AM. A sleek, animated invitation in gold and black: A Legacy of Excellence. Join us at the Grand Ballroom for the Annual Corporate Gala.

All I was able to notice was, we went up the mountain path Kent had suggested. Max stopped only when we reached pebbled grounds. He got up, balancing on his two hind legs, dropping me on my back in the process. This caused me to look up at the gray and black castle that stood before me. It had countless steeples and each of them had a red flag with a black wolf stitched within it. From the windows I could see, I saw designs of red and green glass with a candle dancing right in the center. It looked majestic. “Took you both a while.” Kent was already here, wearing yet another fur coat, giving me a devilish smile.

Bradley said thoughtfully. "Because he's the future Alpha who has, not only the blood of two Alphas, but also the blood of the Royals. He's going to be strong and he knows it," I replied proudly. "He's an Alpha who will kick the ass of anyone who dares mess with those he loves," Blake added with a faint smile as his eyes moved down to our still screaming daughter and I could see the pain that she didn't know who either of us were because of something that sick bastard had done to her.

tall figure, all four of them hold those two injured men’s from their both hands, it was dark outside but there were many street light which were giving me clear view of that tall figure who stood above them, he was around 6’feet tall, with broad and muscular shoulder, I can clearly tell that by looking at muscles that were popping out of his short sleeve black cotton fitted shirt, his caramel tanned skin was complimenting his shirt color, he had shoulder length dark brownish black hairs which were loosely gelled, from side I could see he had a very sharp jaw line with thick beard and moustache, he was wearing deep blue colored denim and a Mojdi beneath that (Traditional Indian foot wear) j

"His royal majesty, the mighty lion, lord of the seas and the forest. Ruler of the imperial kingdom of Decreash, Regaleon Von Clegane! A guard shrilled in a high-pitched voice. The congregation in the hallway languidly rose to their feet. So did the queens seated at the upper deck of the hall. Ragaleon slowly made his way in, accompanied by his hand, Brandon, and his personal knight. As he made his way through the path the royal knights had formed, the sword crossed above his head slowly dropped immediately as he walked past each knight, and they bowed to show their courtesy. His black shoulder-length hair stood still as he walked like a pillar of storm. He di

“Julian is… entertaining. The typical story everyone would like. But Rowan?” I paused deliberately, rolling my eyes in a flirtatious manner. “Rowan is legacy.” Camilla blinked. “Legacy?” “He’s literally royalty,” I said. “The second son of the English royal family. That’s not just a regular status… that’s history.” Chloe tilted her head. “You don’t even like all that royal pressure stuff.” “I don’t,” I agreed. “But If it is with Rowan, it's different.” Julian is best for attention, but Rowan wasn't the type to get involved with it.There was something far more compelling about someone who carried weight quietly. He held himself like he didn’t need anyone’s approval. Which meant winning his at

"Dad, you didn't tell me we had guests. I would have worn my necklace made of human teeth. It really brings out my eyes." "Shut up, Marigold." My father never told me to shut up. He usually told me to "calm down" or "lower your voice" or "remember who you are." This was new. This was the sound of the dam breaking. He gestured to the shark by the fire. "This is Ambassador Pierce. From the Kingdom of Regalia." "Regalia," I repeated, rolling the name around my mouth like a sour candy. "Sounds like a medication for erectile dysfunction. Does it cure stupidity, too?"

“Keep the line crooked. Kings hate untidy pictures.” General Kael rode with the easy grace of a man who had never been told no by a mirror. His horse was a gray gelding with a scar down the flank and manners better than his rider’s. Kael wore armor that had never seen a pageant, dull steel, practical buckles, no flourish, but over it he had thrown a cloak of wolf-fur dyed a tasteful night. On his head no crown, only a band of black leather set with a small iron sigil: a crescent cracked in two.

October 15th, 2045 Golden light bathed the Citadel Plaza. Tunde stepped out of the sleek black limo, welcomed by a graceful burst of camera flashes and warm orchestral music rising from a live quartet nearby. The plaza sparkled with white marble tiles, water fountains, and floating light drones capturing every moment in soft focus. He was dressed in an elegant white agbada embroidered with fine gold thread, a custom piece from the Citadel’s top designer. His smile was calm, collected, but unmistakably proud. This was not arrogance—it was earned triumph.

Zogo looked toward the high walls of the estate, moonlight catching the sharp angles of his coat. “Let’s knock.” And with that, he stepped forward, walking through darkness like it bowed to him. Regalado’s POV Inside the Estate, 5:00 AM The old gallery smelled of varnish, Cuban tobacco, and power. Regalado stood with a glass of 60-year-old scotch in hand, gazing up at an oil portrait of his father, the original lion of the south…. General Estevan Regalado. A man who built an empire from bullets and borders. His ghost still lingered in these walls, Regalado believed.