Regency Novels & Stories

"You're using powers of light from Alt'ma, so your place's gotta be... Regulus." Regulus. Lars had never even been to Regulus, the central capital of La Shania Mirepa, where the bodies of government converged. This region consisted of huge facilities of official affairs that Lars thought of the place as too bleak once. As fate spindled her wheel, he found it ironic that he turned out to be chosen as its protector. "I wouldn't worry about that though. The neighboring Scions usually stepped up to cover the absence. Yeah, I know, we don't all get along or even know each other as new Scions keep replacing itself, but there are also Scions who work together."

And somehow, that gave me the courage to breathe past the fear. The ceremony was a big deal in any pack, but here it carried even greater weight. Roman wasn’t just Alpha. He was also a Regent. That title carried with it power and influence that touched every pack in the South. I wouldn’t bear the title of Regent myself, but I would be part of all of it. His partner, his Luna, standing at his side.

There were colorful flaglets hanging on the tips of the rooftops in every house and banners of the Regaleria crest on every porch. “Hmmm...” Ruen gave out a low grumble. “The port in this town of Regaleria truly is blessed with so much bounty. Not to mention, that it is far away from the Regaleria Mansion and far from the late King’s gloomy disposition, the people in this town aren’t as much afraid of him as the people in the village near it.” “Oh?” She responded with widened eyes. She turned to look outside the glass window again and observed the area further. “I guess it shows just by looking at the place,” she added.

Chapter 99 - Concordia Accord “Her presence can shift the balance of power across all the regions,” King Regulus’s voice rang out firmly in the closed room. “We cannot pretend it doesn’t.” Despite being the one to step up in helping Maxton take back the Western throne, he was still doubtful of Georgia’s existence, and the power she carried.

Aiden’s wolf went very still. “Damien?” Aiden asked. “Damien,” Rylan confirmed. “And the Vale boy. And two other names they tossed out just to see who flinched.” Aiden huffed. “And who did?” “Enough,” Rylan said. “Victor floated ‘temporary regency’ language. Council liked the sound of ‘stability.’” “Regency,” Aiden repeated. “Meaning they keep my name on the door while someone else runs the pack.”

Aria sat next to her and Chloe smiled. “Do you like it here so far?” “No.” Aria replied honestly and Chloe mouthed an ‘oh’ “Well, you are going to like it soon because the Dynasty event is starting in a couple of days. I am sure you must have heard a lot about it,” she said and Aria raised her brows. “Huh?” “The season’s first Dynasty. The party for billionaires,” she said. “Oh, you mean like season’s ball parties.” “Yeah, but it's called a Dynasty here. According to them, the name holds power.” she chuckled, and Aria smiled a little.

Alex’s POV ​The morning air inside the ultra-exclusive private lounge at The Regency was thick, smelling faintly of expensive roasted espresso beans, fresh orchids, and old Manhattan money. It was barely nine o'clock, but the heavy mahogany panels and dim, recessed lighting made the space feel entirely sealed off from the rest of the world.

His gaze was piercing and distant, cutting through the fragile hope I had been holding onto. "Let’s get one thing straight, Elena." His voice was low and firm. "This marriage is just for appearances. It keeps our fathers happy, satisfies the press, and makes sure business runs smoothly. That’s all there is to it." I swallowed hard. "I understand." "Good." He stepped closer, his cologne sharp and his presence overwhelming. "Stay out of my way. Don’t interfere in my business, and don’t embarrass me in public. Just know your place. That’s all I need from you."

While Evelyn was reclaiming her fire in one wing of the hospital, the atmosphere in the VIP maternity ward was thick with a very different kind of tension. "How could you be so careless, Julian?!" The voice of Julian’s mother, Mrs. Hart, rang out like a whip crack. She stood over the hospital bed, her face contorted with aristocratic disdain. She didn't even look at her son as she paced, her heels clicking aggressively on the linoleum. "I told you to watch over Claire! She is carrying the future of the Hart legacy," Mrs. Hart hissed.