Soul Of The King 소설 & 이야기

Devoid of vitality, it lay there motionless. "That will be your entire punishment!" His voice was cold as he spoke to them. Never before had all three experienced such a profound sense of terror throughout the entirety of their existence. Fear consumed every fiber of their being. Sophia Isabel lifted her head. Alaric was keenly aware of her next move. The woman's hand tightened around her neck as she twisted it with a sudden, violent motion. Rather than facing the wrath of the King, she chose to take her own life, longing to reunite with her beloved in the realm beyond.

An answering cry came up from the horde behind him and in no time he too was channeling the ancient battle cry of his people long gone unheard since the Great War. In the long run, he had to thank Khasi for giving him a chance to see what he cared about enough to fight for. Gone was the aloof Prince that lived in the moment and present was the King that fought for love, friendship and peace. The pounding of a thousand horse hooves behind him became like music to his ears fuelling him on and lighting his nerves with a does he didn't know he possessed. Everything became clearer in that moment; the smell of damp earth and see carried by the wind, the powerful muscular contractions of the beast

His hand closed around her throat in a flash, lifting her off the ground. “Say her name like that again,” he hissed, eyes burning red, “and I’ll end you.” Chloe clawed at his arm, choking. “Gabriel… I’m carrying your child! I’m your Blood Queen!” He laughed. Cold. Empty. “My Blood Queen,” he said slowly, “has always been Isabella.” “What makes you think you could ever replace her?” “You’re nothing but something my brother used—secondhand trash. A whore. I never once intended to make you my Blood Queen.”

He walked to the window. Looked out over the city. Lights flickered below. Alive. Unaware. A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. “So…” His voice was low. Almost thoughtful. “The king of the underground.” A pause. His eyes darkened slightly. “My son.” The words came easier this time. Not softer. But accepted. His head tilted slightly. “If he rules…” A breath. “Then I rule.” Not dominance. Not greed. Something else. Recognition. Blood. Legacy.

It felt as if the air between them had thickened. Elowen looked away first. “Your mage said the assassin had no natural soul. Is that common here?” “No.” “So someone inside your kingdom is crafting puppets,” Elowen said. “Yes.” Corvin returned his attention to the fire. His expression shifted only slightly, but Elowen saw the tension under his calm. The king did not like admitting uncertainty, not even to himself. “And your Crown Sight gives you no answers?” Elowen asked. “It should,” Corvin replied.

He twisted his claws slightly, and I bit my lip until I tasted iron to keep from screaming. “You are of no use to this world outside of what I allow you to be,” he continued, his voice dropping to a sinister purr. “You can be the secret power behind my throne, or you can be nothing. And I do not keep 'nothing' in my palace.”The pain in my shoulder was a burning fire, but the fire in my heart was hotter. I looked him dead in the eye, my vision blurring with tears of rage. “You can chain me, you can pierce me, and you can tell the world I am nothing. but you will never have me, Kai. You will have my shadow, you will have my scars, but you will never have my soul. You are a king of dirt.”

, I say before explaining. “We don’t help even if Moraeka sent you.”, the king says. “This is a wast-” “I understand that sir, I really do but this is quite important not only for us but also your people.”, I state. “How?”, he asks. “Simply, my mate is Kevin, who you know is a vampdragon. Now, you also know that he is the next king for his people.”, I state. “She is telling the trust, my king. I can sense she has another soul in her.”, someone says.

The king opened his mouth, his expression between disbelief and despair, but she cut him off. “You can drag Kairos back. You can chain him in golden kelp and place the siren chosen for him at his side. But what you will have-” she leaned closer, her voice slicing like reef-glass—“is a body. Not your son. His soul will remain on land.” Her words echoed. “The debt,” she whispered, “will pass again. Down to the next generation.” The Mer king’s shoulders sagged like the ocean had collapsed onto his back. He sank down slowly, defeated, the trident slipping in his grasp.

Tala was no longer fighting for a dream that could never be; she was fighting purely for the sanctuary of her people. "You smell of the castle," Soren murmured softly, a rare touch of vulnerability softening his soldier’s posture. "The Sovereign aura has shifted. It is... fully blooded. Resurrected." "He has found his Queen, Soren," Tala replied, a genuine, beautiful smile touching her lips, completely devoid of the old sorrow. She turned her icy blue eyes to meet his, the fierce light within them blindingly bright. "The King is awake, and the bookmark is standing tall. We are no longer guarding a fading hermit. We are holding the line for a living empire."

Evren picked up on the word 'treason' as the scent of charred wood pressing against his glands crept through his senses. “Your Majesty, please—my family… my daughter is but a month old_” “Your family?” The king interrupted with a calm ire, “You sold military routes to the southern rogue militants.” His voice was a deep, terrifying calmness that made Evren’s stomach roll. Even though the king hadn’t raised his voice, Evren felt every bit of danger in his words. “I made a mistake,” the noble lamented. “Thousands died for your mistake,” the king muttered.