Roman Crown Novels & Stories

I could not step back. Rowan shifted, the lamplight painting the sharp lines of his body through the thin sheet. Even in weariness, he was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at-too sharp, too perfect, carved by something not mortal. His hair clung damp against his forehead, his jaw shadowed by dark stubble that made him look both regal and ruinous. "You are afraid," he said, watching me. His voice was velvet laced with gravel, deep enough to stir something low in my belly.

“Don’t worry… I am not forcing you to stay by my side. That is why, Emery, I will give you this one last chance to decide. Will you choose to be with me or do you want to return to the eastern continent with King Lawson? If you choose the latter, I will understand and will let you go without harm. However, if you choose me now… I promise to never let you go no matter what. I will cherish you for the rest of my life no matter how many of my people would go against us. You will become the empress of the Varmore Empire and do whatever you wish to do.” He then showed her the ring that was carefully forged with expensive raw materials by the greatest jeweler in the empire. With one glance, it loo

They mourned him and continue to do so. Someone had to take over now that the King was gone, and the young Crown Prince is doing an excellent job of carrying on his father's legacy. He's skilled at making snap decisions, and he's a natural leader. Not to mention that he's quite attractive. Anastasia isn't the only girl in the kingdom who fantasizes about him. When she sees him pass by, she can't help but steal a glimpse at him. If word gets out that she secretly admires the Prince, she'll most likely be beaten to death, but who can blame her? Despite the fact that he is rumored to be engaged, Anastasia smiles sheepishly whenever his name is mentioned. Even if he isn't enganged, a maid and a

Betty’s hands trembled slightly as she fastened the clasps at Emilia’s back, and Emilia couldn’t help but notice her nervousness. “Relax, Betty,” she said gently. “You’re doing well.” Betty blushed, nodding quickly. “Thank you, Your Highness.” Once she was dressed, Matron Isla gestured to a silver circlet resting on a velvet pillow. “Shall I place your coronet, Your Highness?” Emilia hesitated, the sight of the intricate piece making her stomach twist. It was beautiful, but it felt like another layer of distance between herself and her old life. “No,” she said softly. “Not today.”

Whatever fragment had struck me had struck him as well. Before anyone could process what was happening, another presence crashed into the courtyard like wildfire. The temperature rose so abruptly that several nearby students stepped back with startled cries. Heat rolled across the air in scorching waves, pushing against Lucian’s icy mana with explosive force. I turned just in time to see him descending from the upper terrace as though gravity itself had become optional. Black hair, sharp amber eyes, and a smile far too amused for the chaos unfolding around us. Even without introduction, I knew. Kael. Another Crown King. His presence felt like controlled destruction—beautiful, reckless, and d

Nelson took a slow drag from his pipe and said, "Kid, I just asked around but didn't expect a crowd. They all came to help, not asking for a dime." I gestured to the planks behind me, "Just turn them into some makeshift bows and arrows, that'll do." Despite their confusion, the folks eyed the old-timey planks and got to work, led by a few eager beavers. Nelson sat by me, puffing away in silence. "Wooden armor, huh? Only someone extraordinary could rock that getup." …… Jim was extraordinary, alright. He was the general of my infant spirits army. I had armed him with a bow and many arrows, and as twilight fell, I suited him up in the armor myself.

I buried my nose in her silky hair as I tightened my arm around her waist. My business ruled the world. We're called Royal. I'm better in business compared to my younger brother, James. Truthfully, I don't allow anyone near me. I don't even remember after f****** a woman. But she's something - raw fire. Her glimpse ignited me. I hired a lady last night. So, I could get rid of her, this unwanted wedding. But now, I'm certain. I'm not letting her go.

There’s actual fanfare, from real trumpets, and the huge doors open to admit me. All thoughts of Ashton or anyone else clear my mind entirely. I instantly focused on Owen, seated on his throne, the crown of our thoughts again hair. The King’s crown is simple, polish-focused with peaks that rise in the shape of fangs; the pack legend is that they’re actual werewolf teeth. I suppose now that I’m about to be queen, I cI'dfind out. I sl a list of s all the weird things I’ve always wanted to know. Since life around Aconitum Hall seems like it’s going to be pretty boring, maybe I can write a definitive history of the pack or something.

The coronation day dawned bright and still, as if even nature itself paused to witness this pivotal moment in history. My reflection in the ornate mirror shimmered with threads of gold and crimson, the ceremonial robes of the Lycan Queen wrapping around me like destiny itself made manifest. The silver circlet gleamed atop my brow not ostentatious, but elegant in its simplicity, a subtle reminder that though I wore the crown with pride, it had been forged in blood, loss, and the kind of sacrifice that leaves permanent marks on the soul.

Riven stood behind me, Raiken’s sword resting against his shoulder. “A kingdom is what remains after those things fail.” Cassian studied him. “You sound like your father.” Riven’s jaw tightened. “I barely knew him.” “That has never stopped resemblance.” Cassian pulled the royal ring from his finger. Black metal set with a red stone. He held it out to the vampire woman when she returned with a covered litter. She hesitated. “Your Majesty.” “My name is Cassian.” Her eyes widened. He placed the ring in her palm.