Royal Novels & Stories

Ace wasn’t just a thorn in his side; he was becoming a legitimate threat. The small black book was what concerned Richard the most. It was filled with names, dates, and cryptic notes written in a code he didn’t fully understand. But one name kept appearing: The Tribunal. Richard had heard whispers of this group, a shadowy organization with ties to the underworld, politics, and international finance. If Ace was involved with them, it changed everything.

“This I swear.” Harald then leads Rasmus to the rear of the platform where a throne sits. It’s far less ornate than the one Carlotta used to sit on, but still; made of deep reddish wood, polished to a shine and fitted with red velvet cushions which have been studded onto the base and back of the chair with golden studs, its regal enough.

Alpha Zackery stretched out his arms at me and said, "There you go. Come inside." Then, I was almost pushed inside by the carter. As I staggered forward, I was caught by Alpha Zackery. The door was shut behind me. I looked up. The carriage was large and spacious, with sophisticated ornaments and decorations. The whole cart smelt like jasmine flowers and peach blossoms. Alpha Zackery was in a white well-ironed hunting suit. His white cape was put next to him, with a giant long sword lying next to it. I looked at the golden pattern sewn on the cape and recognized that it was a rockrose, which was the symbol of the royal family.

'That is why we must get to the root of everything and know who is behind this,' he said again. 'Do you think this has to do with the Royal household and our take over?' Roy asked. Royal household? I had never heard of that. I knew Rave once said that the color of her eyes that matches the Luna's and that of our mates signifies royalty. 'Is it just me or can you also perceive Raven's scent in the air?' Roman suddenly asked and I took that as my cue to stop eavesdropping on my mates and let them know I was there.

“I am Aeron, Alpha of Obsidian. And if you don’t move, you’ll regret standing in my way.” Laughter rippled among the guards. “He even speaks like him. Clever.” Aeron inhaled slowly, then stepped closer. “You want proof?” His hand lifted, and in one swift motion, he bared his forearm. The skin shimmered, revealing the mark of the Obsidian—the tattoo that every member of the royal family had. It was a tattoo etched in silver light. It glowed in the light as they stared at it. “Tell me, can a trick forge this?”

I am stood in the West parlour (I don’t know why they are named like this, I don’t own a compass, just call it the pink room and I’ll know which one it is) feeling nervous as hell, in a dress I am sure its 10 hours too early to be wearing, and wondering how false eyelashes can feel too sticky and like they are falling off at the same time. Then Roland is ushered into the room, and I feel like all the oxygen disappears. He is more handsome than I remembered. Dressed in black trousers and a black shirt, unbuttoned at the collar and rolled up sleeves to the elbows, he has this casual air but that also screams his outfit costs the same as a small car.

“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 w