The Black Haired Princess Novels & Stories

I felt it was all my fault. “Aphrodite will pay,” I vowed, wiping my tears away. “I’ll hold you to that.” King Tirisil now matched his wife’s murderous glare, but at least I wasn’t the target any longer. Suddenly, the doors flew open and a woman with stark white, knee-length long hair, pale skin, and eyes like the moon hurried forward. She had a crown of the triple moon. The king handed her a letter.

She's definitely not an ordinary girl, right? “Illarion ...,” said the woman who stopped right beside the hiding Black Prince. Illuminated by the light of the full moon, the woman with silvery white hair seemed to glow, with her lips as red as the roses in the garden. Her big purple eyes glanced around, blinking several times, fluttering her long white eyelashes.

“I heard about the ceremony tonight. About the princess who returned.” I tilted my head, confused. “Yes…?” She took a deep breath. “That’s why I’m here. To tell the truth.” My stomach dropped. “What truth?” She looked around, then stepped forward boldly. “I am the real lost princess of Blacktail.” My body went rigid. She continued, her voice steady. “You’re a fake. Maybe not intentionally… but this crown does not belong to you.”

The walls were adorned with photographs capturing moments of joy, featuring Black alongside his loved ones—his family, Killian , and even a perplexing image of him with an unfamiliar, breathtaking woman. This mysterious lady possessed vibrant, fiery red hair that cascaded around her shoulders, complementing her entrancing green eyes. She exuded an air of regal elegance, resembling a princess as resplendent as Ginni . Her flawless, porcelain complexion accentuated the radiance of her red locks.

There was a lot of conversation but most of it was centered on the Princess' shiny jewels. The other hands didn't even try to talk to her; they just whispered amongst each other but she knew that their conversation was all about. She was different; tall, black haired, pale skinned and she had grey eyes. She ignored them and prayed for the engagement to be over soon. She was deep in her thoughts on what the Prince wanted to say or do and it annoyed her a great deal at the mystery he had added to her already complicated life. When the Queen strolled in, they stood to show respect and until she was sitted did they sit.

Her hair and the top of her face was a dead give away. After the fight is over, he followed her. She went through a hallway, turned a couple of corners, and into a locker room. It was empty there, and she took down her face covering and sighed as she slumped on the benches. She didn't seem to notice him until he spoke. "Well, well, well, guess the Princess has a secret." he took down his hood. Aurora snapped her head to him and her eyes blew open wide. She quickly stood up from her seat and backed away a bit. "What- what are you doing here?"

She’s not on the chair… I pause. There’s a small figure curled up in front of the fire. Frowning, I walk over and look down at her. Her hair is spread out behind her—a beautiful, ebony black, with long, glistening strands fanning out from her head. The girl is curled into a tiny ball, and even after having cleaned up and put on some fresh clothes, she still looks gaunt. I saw Princess Vivian once at a gathering for royals and nobles. She was an exquisite creature, but her eyes made my skin crawl. Still, I would have recognized her as my fated mate the moment we met.

“There are four of us that the Queen picked for this mysterious princess. You, me, Max and fucking douche-bag Lunerly. Twenty-five percent chance that one of us gets her.” “Yeah,” Thorne mumbled. “Great.” “Your chance at happiness shouldn’t be twenty-five percent,” Kairos continued. “Probably less than that. What if this Princess is a mega bitch?” Thorne chuckled slightly at that. He nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” he said. He turned to look at Kairos. “You would’ve been okay if it was the wolfless girl?”

She was my queen. But my mind drifted back to the dark dungeon where I had last seen her. Her face was ghostly pale, with faint, bruise-like shadows beneath her collarbone. The vibrant fire in her eyes was replaced with a cold, terrifying emptiness. Guilt tore at me. I tried to tell myself she was safe, that my men would make sure she was taken care of. But I didn't dare pull her collar away to look at the bruises. I just ordered my men to have her checked by a doctor.

But Elara tasted the poison beneath every smile. She swept into the hall beside her parents, Kael just behind, her gown of deep green catching the candlelight. Nobles bowed their heads, though their eyes followed her like hawks. Already the whispers had begun: The princess and the Ironfang heir. A match written by politics… or by fate. Her stomach twisted.