Novel & Cerita Tarnished Tyrant

She arches a thin gray brow. “Traitors,” Fireside affirms, apparently oblivious to the new weight in the air, the sizzle raising the hairs on everyone’s arms and legs. “What else would you call those who flaunt the natural order? Who rise against their alpha and seek to sow disorder and discontent? What other word for those who place their selfish interests above the unity and good of the pack?” The witch replies softly, but I have no doubt she can be heard at the very back of the hall. “Oh, I would call such a male worse than a traitor, and I would say to him that his time is coming, for him and all his ilk.”

She stood up and went inside her room. She threw herself on the bed, she cried everything she should cry, she thought about being betrayed and thought about Mr. Leo, She got angrier and more angry. What will I do with the man? He is so different from me. He has avoided it as a person. "a damn tyrant". She shouted and soaked her face on the pillow.

"Life isn't about power, wealth and status only mother." "What else then? Flowers, piece, rainbow and sunshine!? Open your eyes! It's only people like us on the top that survive, that are worthy of the world! Not some lower-class rats!" "So you think Sara isn't worthy of my name, tried to separate us countless of times to make sure Eleanor and I got back together?" "God yes - do I need to spell it out for you?!" "Over my dead body will I ever return to Eleanor and you know that yourself - so get that thought out of your head before I get the police involved."

He gripped her jaw angrily, their eyes once again staring into each other, “is that clear!” She nodded in his grip, her eyes cast down again. Alejandro approached her, closing the distance between them and leaning to her ear, “you’re nothing again, princess. Your tyrant father left you to bear his sins. You’re the daughter of a mad man, a cruel person that should rot in hell. You would be no one again when I’m done with you. If you think the other Lords broke you, then you’ve not met me. I would make you wish for death, and I would make you cry. You’re nothing…”

“Tyron, tell me about your daemon clan. What’s the situation there?” Adrian asked. “Alright,” Tyron began, no longer holding back. “The eight branches of the daemon clan were consumed by endless hatred and war. They wouldn't listen to reason. When space shattered, both I and the Gilded Tyrant got trapped in the maritime immortal world. The Gilded Tyrant, due to his daemon identity, was besieged by humans and had to seal himself in the underwater ruins. I, on the other hand, disguised myself as a human and roamed the world for years.

Intrigue could turn into obsession, and obsession could lead to destruction. “Let her come,” I murmured to the night. “Let her rise. The higher she climbs, the more devastating her fall will be.” My reflection in the dark glass grinned back at me, sharp and ruthless. I wasn’t just grasping power anymore. I was crowning myself a kingmaker, savior, tyrant—all rolled into one. And soon, Florence wouldn’t just kneel. It would worship.

“You already implied to me and Helene that you are planning something against him—” “You mean the conversation where I shielded you both from being accomplices to treason?” I hissed as quietly as I could manage. “After this conversation, you’re much more than an accomplice now.” “I don’t care about that!” Tyron bellowed before lowering his voice again. “There are more important things at stake, like the future of this country.” His eyes watered as he said, “I don’t want my child growing up under the rule of a king like Owen.”

He growled in defeat and anger. “It would have been yours if you had gone about it the right way, but you took everything that wasn’t yours and turned on everyone. You killed your own father and mother. Then you laid waste to the council of elders. You alone did all that, and I tell you, a king should not have that many atrocities to his name. You will go down in history as a tyrant who failed in his mission to dominate the kingdom.” Elliott attacked with his long claws, but Xavier caught them and broke his arm. He cried out helplessly and dropped to his knees on the ground before Xavier.

He looks down at me, his eyes studying mine, and I almost cower. Despite my faltering step, I keep standing tall, lifting my chin as I say, "That isn't necessary." "This is your life being threatened," he states evenly. "Though you seem pretty okay with that." He takes a step closer. "And I would believe you," he continues, "but you don't seem fearful. Or the least bit concerned about the predicament you're in." I lick my lips, "Call me fearless." "Even the most fearless people fear death." he taunts, "so you aren't fearless, princess."

I raise my eyes to his, his grip tightened on my jaw. “Camilla,” I said. His smirk deepened. “A nice name… for a pretty doll.” Then his hand left me, and only then did I realize I was shaking all over, my knees weak, my lungs heavy like stone. I had tried to show him I wasn’t scared, but he saw through me. He saw everything. Who wouldn’t fear him? Alpha Lennox Steele. The Pack Slayer, one of the many names the people had given him, The Tyrant. The man who turned villages into ash and left bones for wolves to gnaw. The one mothers whispered about in the dark to keep their children silent.