Novelas y relatos de The Borrowed Crown

"That's the unlimited black card, right? If Violet's not the real heiress, I'll eat my own words." Jim leaned back, crossing his legs, looking completely satisfied. "That's Mr. Neel's secondary card," he said proudly. "It's more than enough to cover your worthless junk." I took one look at it and almost laughed. That was the card my father had shoved into my hand before I left the country. I had never used it and just tossed it in a drawer. So Violet had been using it this whole time. I kept my expression neutral as I picked up the card, clicking my tongue softly.

The one who had arrived was no mere envoy, but the ruler of the entire werewolf kingdom, the White Wolf Alpha King himself. Alexander and the elders hurried down from the platform, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty." "At ease." Father's voice carried across the square, steady and commanding. Then, he stepped aside, revealing the figure behind him. A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Alexander's eyes widened as his gaze locked onto me. I showed up in full ceremonial dress, but what I wore was not the dark-patterned Luna gown of the Greystone pack. Instead, I wore a robe of brilliant silver-white, the attire of a princess of the White Wolf royalty.

“But the King…” A long pause followed. The glowing face slowly turned toward Alessio. ”…has not.” The light faded. Leaving behind a single object floating above the altar. A crown. Not made of gold. Not silver. Forged entirely from crystal. The Crystal Crown of the First King. No one dared touch it. Because carved into its inner rim… Were seven words. “Only one brother may wear this crown.” The three brothers looked at one another. The war they had been fighting was over. A far more painful choice… Had just begun.

Elena's starlight bled red and would not stop, but at dawn it learned to heal with light, by noon to quarrel, by dusk to break, by midnight again to be lonely, by next dawn to listen, by next dusk to return, by midnight again to vow, by next dawn to war, by next midnight to dance, by next dawn to be taken, by next dusk to be offered, by next midnight to tear, by next dawn to march, by next dusk to bleed starlight against blood, by next midnight to end the betrayer, by next dawn to show true form, by next dusk to price power, by next midnight to turn to ice, by next dawn to choose, and by next dusk to crown with ash. Not white-gold faint glow. Not gold that chooses. Grey that crowns with ash.

They mourned him and continue to do so. Someone had to take over now that the King was gone, and the young Crown Prince is doing an excellent job of carrying on his father's legacy. He's skilled at making snap decisions, and he's a natural leader. Not to mention that he's quite attractive. Anastasia isn't the only girl in the kingdom who fantasizes about him. When she sees him pass by, she can't help but steal a glimpse at him. If word gets out that she secretly admires the Prince, she'll most likely be beaten to death, but who can blame her? Despite the fact that he is rumored to be engaged, Anastasia smiles sheepishly whenever his name is mentioned. Even if he isn't enganged, a maid and a

she added. “What are you talking about? If this is meant to be a joke, then it is not funny–” “He did not tell you this, but King Lawson wagered his crown and life in exchange for your freedom!” This time, Lady Emily stood from her seat and glared down at the lady in front of her. “He badly wanted you back to Silex Kingdom that he did not hesitate to put his life–”

Lila tiptoed just to clip the veil on Emery's braided, black hair to secure it because the soon-to-be crowned queen was rather taller than the average height. She, then, whispered, “Your Highness, a lady must learn to be patient.” The soon-to-be queen rolled her eyes at her statement. When the horn was blown, Emery walked with careful steps on the aisle that led to the king's side. She minded every step she made because her burning red robes reached the floor and if she stepped on it, she will surely become the laughing stock of the palace. At the end of the aisle was the throne made of gold. Its sides were carved with wolves—the predators that best represent the current king.

Congratulations are in order, as well as many questions. Through the door outside, I see the loyal soldiers scouting through. I imagine they will have the entire palace secure very soon, if they haven’t secured it already. After a time, a servant walks in carrying the King’s formal crown. The servant seems confused, flanked by two loyal guards. They walk up the blood-stained silver carpet, carrying the crown all the way to the front. Caleb hops back up onto the platform. As the servant comes close enough, he reaches down, snatches the crown off the pillow it was carried in on, and drops it onto his own head.

His voice was so hoarse that it made my ears sting, "I wondered why that thing didn't scoop out your heart. Turns out, your blood was the best shield..." …… I woke up drenched in sweat, back in my bed. It was a week before the Haunts world descended. The gold bar from last night's burial was still heavy in my pocket.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never stopped feeling like a monster beneath it. There’s a whisper outside the door — a guard’s voice. Then silence. I rise slowly. My hand slides beneath the desk, fingers brushing against the cold steel of my pistol. When I open the door, there’s no one there. Only another black envelope, lying on the floor. This one bears no seal. Inside — a single slip of parchment, handwritten in red ink: “The crown was never yours, Amara. You only borrowed it.” And beneath it, a pressed rose — the petals blackened with ash.