The Bloodless Prince Novels & Stories

“You are mine, and it is your blood that I will lick from my teeth when this is finished.” Barely a moment passes before the prince responds, throwing himself as far from Sinclair’s grasp as he can as Sinclair takes a mighty swipe at him, the claws growing from the edges of his fingertips as he moves. A chase begins, with the Prince moving away from Sinclair as quickly as he can and shifting as he goes. Sinclair gives chase like lightening, taking his own gigantic wolf form to face the prince’s.

It was unbelievable. The king however didn't exhaust all the tricks off his sleeves. "You insolent child, you cannot get away with this." He muttered as he stood. The prince was backing him, so he had the advantage and wanted to use it to backstab. He picked his sword and sped to the prince, faster than anyone to comprehend. As he was about to stab, however, the prince turned at once and grabbed his hands. "The Madsun people never fight fair. I was prepared for that." The prince said to him, then turned the knife and stabbed him in the chest, directly to the heart.

you somehow change your card and manipulate the whole scenario prince:- I don't know what are you talking about then prince takes his money 50,000$ and away prince:- by the way I am going nearby hotel for a few days if you want to drink with me. you can join me I feel hungry and sleepy so please come tomorrow I promise I won't run away because I always welcome beautiful women like then use his power and run away he eats his dinner and goes back to sleep

The prince stared at him like he just said something he shouldn't have said, and he wondered if he had crossed the line with the ruthless prince. Before he could say one more word, the prince grabbed him by the throat and turned him around, so that the guard's back was facing him. Before anyone could react, he brought out a dagger from beneath his sleeve, and slit his throat, letting him fall to the ground. Dead. He then turned to lady Rowena who had an appalled look on her face. Her mouth was hung open, and she looked like all colour had been drained away from her. "Now how much for all of them?" He asked, while he brought out a white cloth to wipe the blood off his dagger.

The prince was a fool. A charming one, maybe. One with good hair and better instincts than most gave him credit for, but still a fool. He had no idea how to disappear properly, no understanding of how to move without leaving crumbs behind. The only trick he’d figured out was that cash was king when you wanted to go undetected. And sure, he hadn’t used his credit cards since arriving in Lenweil… but he’d made the fatal mistake of keeping the same damn phone. And phones? Phones were goldmines.

The Crown Prince frowns, reaching for his glass. As he does, the servant behind him – a tall man, too well-built for a server – draws a stiletto blade from his sleeve. I gasp, skittering back a little even as one of my hands reaches out for the prince. But there’s nothing I can do as the servant draws the blade raw across the Crown Prince’s throat. The Prince’s eyes go wide as blood spills down his front, his hand falling away from the cup, as he gasps and slumps forward.

When our eyes meet, I didn't recognize his. "Prince Dash, the first Prince you are looking for," his small voice rang as if it has been screamed right to my ears. I can't believe it. I swallowed hard and averted my eyes away from his before nodding. I get it. Royalties should stay strong so their kingdom will not be conquered by the others and enemies will never have a chance to win against them. "You'll give me your blood. I don't wanna bite you..." he murmured a few words. "But I need your blood. Do you have an idea how I can drink your blood without biting you?"

He does not seem pleased because he reaches for me but I’m out of reach. From a bit of a distance I notice more about him. He’s very tall and built, like most males, he is clean shaven, those eyes capture me for a moment, then his perfect dusty blonde hair. But more importantly the crown that sits atop that dusty brown hair. This is the Prince. I can feel realisation hit as my breathing speeds up and I drop into a deep bow. “Your Majesty.” My voice barley audible. I’ve heard stories of The Prince, we all have. Stories of his ruthlessness, violence, cruelty. Stories of his love of females as nightly companions. Bad, horrible stories.

It is all a game of luck, because I don’t think I stand out from these women in any way. The prince walks back and drops into a high seat in front of us and motions to the male beside him. He nods and walks to the first female, grabbing her sleeve and ripping it. The sound of the tear is loud and I watch with wide eyes as she is escorted to the waiting prince and her hand held out. Keeping his eyes on her, he lowers his mouth to her wrist and he bites in. Her blood leaks out and spills, ruby red against the stark white walls and floors. The prince gulps it down while the female shudders with pleasure and my stomach turns. The tasting.

Caesar stepped into the snow. Not in armor. Not in rage. But in a long coat lined with dark gold, its silver buttons gleaming like captured moonlight. He was tall, graceful.His face carved by gods, yet softened by warmth. Pale lips curved in a smile. A single blood-red mole beneath his right eye, like a drop of wine on porcelain. More radiant than Lucian. More comforting than the hearth. The Blood Prince of the Empire. He stopped before me. Then knelt—just slightly—so our eyes met level.