Tarnished Tyrant Novels & Stories

Clara says, checking herself in the mirror and applying her lipstick. "Who am I dealing with again?" June asks, remembering she hadn't been given a name. "Miles White." Clara replied and June's heart dropped. Whoever didn't know whose name that was, was probably unalike. No way she had gotten herself in this much trouble with the Whites. They were a lineage of endless billionaires and anything they blessed bloomed but what they cursed, withered. But then when she remembered why she was doing all of this, she didn't care if she shot down the president as long as she learned what happened amidst lies and truth for her deceased father's sake and her mother's treatment she was even more willing

Irene’s POV I peeled it off, hating the way his eyes trailed and lingered on my skin like I was a snack he wanted to devour. “You’re a tyrant.” I hissed, wanting him to feel a fraction of my hatred. He just shrugged lile he couldn’t care about my opinion. “Move faster, dove. We don’t have all night.” I gritted my teeth, swallowing the retort on my tongue as I took of my jeans then my underwear followed.

And what better knife to use to cut through thin bones than his trusted Siberian cleaver. “You have lived a pretty shitty life, Tyra. And as my client had put it, you are a heartless home-wrecker. Greed is the root of all evil things, don’t you know that? Greed fuels almost everything. My client suffered because you wanted more from him. You used your body to feed your greed. You emptied his pockets and when he was head over heels in debt, you left and ran after the next loaded banker. Your love for money and desire to possess material things have detoriated your soul, separating you from your spiritual purpose.” Slowly, Tyra opened her eyes. She winced, blood running down her face and into

"You think you're all and big as they call you. Because you win every battle and kill innocent blood. You are nothing, just a piece of shit that will go back to sand when the day comes." "Whack!" The slap came with a heavy force and she fell on the floor. The slap was too hard, too strong that it split her lips and blood oozed. "How dare you?" He groaned, grabbing her hair and pulling it back for her to wince in pain. "You are nothing. You might have been something before but right now you're no longer a princess but a prisoner, a commoner, a perfect example of tyranny, a good-for-nothing daughter." He spat out.

It was a clear indicator that he was approaching me and the silver-barred cage they had imprisoned me in. “Time for another dose, Little Miss Wolf,” the man drawled tauntingly. A moan was all I could offer in response. How fucking pathetic of me. It was truly impossible for me to go down and die on this hill in a blazing fight with my dignity and courage intact. I was already far too broken for any daring heroics the Warrior and once Peacemaker in me was capable of doing. “Come on, beautiful,” he urged. “Have one more dose. I’m sure your beloved tyrant of a mate would love to see you die a painfully slow death.”

“The crowning flame knows no years, The crowning flame knows no tears. The crowned is one with a soul so bright, Plunged in a curse to douse every speck of light. For your wolves’ great fortune, you shall bear the bane, Misfortune, misery, an eternal chain.” The crowning flame knew no years. It had chosen a ten-year-old unshifted pup to be the Alpha Naturale. The crowning flame knew no tears. It forced the pup to grow up too fast and take over the pack completely at the age of sixteen. And the curse? As if her life wasn’t cursed enough! Misfortune and misery were her constant companions.

If he was saying that he would not let her die easily that meant he would make his last effort to make her life hell but didn't permit her to die. He walked out of the room. She saw his back with teary eyes. Simon was the kind of man whose enmity was destruction for his rival. He belonged to a strong political background. As a beloved nephew of a powerful politician, no one dared to entangle with this tyrant and Sia killed his wife. In the Bangalow,

Zach tries to tell me. “Okay, little boy, well then,” I change my tone to a more serious one and I hold his hands. “I think your father needs to reconsider who he leaves the title Alpha to. An Alpha cannot act this way, even at 4 years old. A Tyrant will lose, every single time. And the way you are acting, is the way a Tyrant behaves.” “What is a Tyrant?” Tony asks me, but Betty answers. “A tyrant is someone who will not listen to others, who believes their word is the only law and acts before thinking everything all the way through,” Betty explains, kneeling beside me, so we are both looking into our sons’ eyes.

Maverick threw one last smug smile over his shoulder before the doors swallowed him. "Coward. You swallowed the insult," Tyr growled, tail lashing. "There was no point in fighting. Losing control is exactly what he wants — so he can paint me as a mad king, take the crown, and take our mate." "OURS," Tyr snarled. On that, we were of one mind. Zlata was ours, and I would never give her up.

“I need to know the truth—everything. My life has been filled with lies and shadows, and I won’t let this be another one.” He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as though the weight of his knowledge had become too much for him. “The truth is a dangerous thing, child. Varyn’s power wasn’t just physical—it was magical and corruptive, and it twisted everything it touched. He was a being of darkness, a tyrant who sought to overthrow the very fabric of life itself. His name was erased from history for a reason. He was bound by powerful wards, sealed away by forces older than even the Kingdom itself. But those seals—those wards—are weakening.”