Novelas y relatos de Savage Crown

"Moonstone for the Lunar line, amber for the Solar line, jade for the Terra line, and sapphire for the Celestial line." "My dream," I whispered. "Nightshade and Evangeline wore corrupted crowns, pieces taken from the originals and reformed." "If they possess fragments of the other three crowns," Sebastian continued, "then they could channel corrupted power through them. The Crimson Ascension ritual would amplify this corruption exponentially." "That explains why they need Royal blood," Maison realised. "To fully activate the crown fragments they've stolen." Alpha Logan carefully lifted the Lunar Crown, studying it with newfound respect. "This changes our understanding of what we face. Not ju

The city lay cradled between stone cliffs and frozen pines, cloaked in mist and moonlight a neutral ground carved from old treaties and older blood. Even here, I could feel the tension in the air. Wolf-shifters moved through the streets in wary silence. Some bore the white tattoos of the Highland Clans, others the storm-gray brands of the South. They nodded as I passed, respectful, but wary. I was Frostfang, northern royalty and a healer in a world that only valued warriors. My wolf stirred beneath my skin. Something is wrong, Nemphis whispered. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t afford to listen to instincts, not here, not now. I looked up and admired the Hall.

Familiar. I slowed my pace instinctively as the air pressure shifted around me, the storm brewing deep in my chest responding long before my brain did. Stormborn. I spun. She was standing next to a crumbling section of courtyard wall like she’d been torn from lightning itself. Sable Mirehart. Shadow hair whipped around her face as the wind built, bright blue eyes flickering with storm-threaded magic too familiar to my bloodline. The mark of the Interregnum stained her armor. “You’re blocking my path,” I stated.

But it was not made of jewels—it was forged from an inactive metal derived from the Blue Dragon Virus. “Wear it,” she said. “It will stabilize your blood pressure and connect your child directly to the palace’s defense system.” I placed the crown on my head. A powerful surge ran through my body. My vision sharpened. I could now see through the palace walls. And far in the forest— Hundreds of black vehicles were approaching. Rohing Singh struck the floor with his staff. “Soldiers of the Moreno Empire—awaken! Your queen has returned!” A deep rumble rose from beneath the palace.

That night, Anthony's mother, the ever-so-sweet Camila Morentti, held my hand and asked with a warm smile, "Sweetie, this is your home now. What would you like for a wedding present? You name it, and it's yours." Before I could even think of an answer, Anthony chimed in, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he gazed at me, "Mom, let's give Isabella the hot spring retreat up on the mountain! She can't stand the cold, and it'll be the perfect cozy spot for her in the winter. Plus, it's great for her health." Camila agreed without a second thought. Anthony remembered how much I hated the cold. Sebastian remembered, too. That was why, in what felt like a previous life, he used my deepest fear in

“I know.” A small, breathless smile curved his mouth. “And I love you too,” she whispered. Below them, the lake caught the light and held it, and the forest around it carried that warmth inward—through root and stone, through corridor and heart—until it reached the quieter halls of the palace, where another choice waited with equal patience. Corren stood alone in the Hall of Roots, the Verdant Crown resting upon its living pedestal. It was not forged by fire but shaped by time—wood veined with gold, leaves eternally green along its arch. The chamber smelled of earth and rain, ancient and steady.

Then we can dump him in one of those underground fight clubs for the real freaky clientele to use as a punching bag. Marco's eyes bulged, head shaking in panic. "No! Please no! Elena, just kill me!" I turned a deaf ear, shifting my gaze to Rosa. "And for my dear sister… She's all about beauty, right? Always snatching what's not hers? Bring every mirror from this basement. Let her stare at her ruined face every day, at that mangled hand. "Oh, and I've heard those freak shows in the Isles are scouting for talent, send her over. Let her pay off her debts with that body of hers."

I thought I could survive him. But no one survives Zane Wilde. Not untouched. Not unchanged. I was supposed to guard my heart. But love doesn’t follow rules. Now I’m left piecing together what’s left of me while he walks away untouched—like he never bled me dry. He left a ruin where my heart used to be. A story where silence should have been. And still… I’d choose him all over again. Because that’s the thing about savage love— It doesn’t ask for permission.

“The first king cannot return without a body.” Shigure looked at me. “A body carrying royal tide blood and wolf memory.” Cael gave a bitter laugh. “So everyone chose the same girl.” The book opened again. This page showed the blood moon. Three crowns circled beneath it. The Tide Crown. The Stormcrest Crown. A third crown made from black bone. Words burned across the glass. WHEN THE THREE CROWNS MEET, THE FIRST KING MAY RISE. THE LAST QUEEN MUST BE EMPTIED.

“You got what you wanted. You broke the crown. Let her go.” “Oh, Prince Dominic, you vastly misunderstand your value,” Director Vance chuckled, a cold, empty sound. “We didn’t break the crown to destroy it. We broke it to replace it. Your brother, Malakai, was more than willing to sign over the exclusive mining rights of Silvercrest to our corporation in exchange for this exact serum to use against your loyalist packs. Shifters are too volatile to rule. But a human-controlled puppet state? That is highly profitable.”