Savage Crown Mga Nobela at Kwento

The crown prince just ignored her, Evan took a glance at the prince who seemed so irritated. "I'm sorry!" Katara yelled and waved her hand. "Are you alright, your highness?" Evans asks, what happened, why is he so grumpy when he's so excited to see the young lady earlier. "How could she casually brag about kissing many times?" Evans heard the crown prince whisper, he never saw the crown prince being this pissed off before. He prevents himself from laughing, the crown prince is one of the cruelest person he even knows but when it comes to Lady Heldigard he's so soft and nice. He witnessed how he could kill someone without any mercy so he never imagined being this good.

We both moved out of car and with our back against each other we were surrounded by ten rogues and a man who rested on a tree like there leader of sort “What do you want?” I hissed while looking at him, knowing that the surrounding rogues moved like they were waiting for some kind of order from him. “Your crown” “What?!” He barked off the tree and walked towards me. “You heard me right, Queen. We want the crown, or you die trying to protect it” The crown belonged to Queen Iris, Dante's mother. It was worth more than anyone could think of and the crown in the wrong hands was trouble and there was no way I was giving them, especially not knowing whether they were working with Victor or not

He said, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. "I have a sister" Amour suddenly said. "Really?" Aurelio asked and she nodded "It's Raven, our newest recruit. I and Raven we were inseparable not until our parents got killed in a war, leaving us with completely nothing. We struggled to survive, ate from the dumps until Demetrius found us" Amour said Aurelio furrowed his brows. "Demetrius... He's the head of our rival clan" Aurelio muttered.

Suddenly, there it was - amidst the riotous weather and foreboding wilderness - a shimmering glint caught my eye. Through the heart of the storm, nestled between the gnarled roots of an ancient oak was the Alpha's Crown, gleaming with an ethereal light that cut through the darkness. The Alpha's Crown – a legendary artifact of our kind, imbued with the collective strength of countless leaders. It was said to hold the essence of every pack leader who'd ever worn it. Now, it sat nestled between twisted roots, caught in the spectral dance of lightning that fractured the darkness every few moments. The crown was an intricate weave of silver and gold, studded with rare gems that glowed with ethere

The imperial knights were startled, and many of them were struck down by the arrows, some tumbling from their horses. "Attack!" ordered Addison, and the surviving imperial knights advanced toward the Adelstein residence. Lucas and the allied packs moved together, their shapes darting through the chaos as the arrows kept coming. The imperial knights were thrown into confusion by the unexpected appearance of the wolves, especially the imposing silver werewolf. "It's a cursed one!" exclaimed an imperial knight, looking at the king and the imperial prince. The king quickly understood—it was his illegitimate son, bearing the family's curse, a secret concealed due to being a second-born.

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.

“You have the power now, Ava. The right. To rule over Bloodcrest. To claim the Alpha seat that was stolen from your father. It is yours. Fully.” It was the truth. The ancient laws were clear. With the reigning Alpha banished for severe crimes against the pack hierarchy and another Alpha's mate, the claim reverted to the strongest living descendant of the previous, rightful Alpha. That was Ava. It was a monumental shift. A chance for her. A chance for justice for her family. And If anyone in Bloodcrest tries to oppose it, I'd be ready to raise a thousand wolves to send them to the great beyond.

"You attacked us," Fao growled, his good arm tightening around me. "Dislocated my shoulder. Put teeth at my mate's throat." "We needed to be sure." Corvin's voice was unapologetic. "The usurpers have sent assassins before, wearing friendly faces. We couldn't take the risk that you weren't who we thought you were." "And now?" "Now I'm certain." Corvin dropped to one knee, his head bowing. The other wolves shifted back to human form, two women and a man, and followed suit. "Crown Prince Alaric. Heir to the High Throne. We've been waiting for you."

Sanctioned means no one touches you—unless someone higher says they can. Caelric steps closer. “Where is the token.” The attacker’s eyes flick down, terrified. Soryn’s grip tightens, and the man whimpers. “Pocket—inside—” Caelric reaches in and pulls out something small. Metal. A coin-sized medallion. Even from across the room I can see the etching—too clean, too official. A crown shape. A vertical line through it like a blade. My blood turns cold. Caelric’s face doesn’t change, but his eyes harden into something I’ve only seen right before people disappear.

Only a small, carved scale pressed into the wax. She broke it open. Inside, written in neat, unfamiliar script: He sees you. Do not trust the crown. Seraphina read it twice before folding it closed. Outside her window, the bells had stopped. The world was silent again, waiting. She looked at her reflection in the glass, pale, calm, eyes steady. “If he wants a storm,” she whispered, “I’ll give him one.” The mark on her palm flared faintly in answer, its light soft and cold as the moon.