The Coursed Prince Novels & Stories

Prince paced around his room with Elaris, his seer lover, seated there with him… “I had Damein, like you saw.. I was going to kill him.. then..” he paused, turning to her, the craze and frustration in his eyes.. “…then she came.. she- s-she… Fuck!!” Prince threw a wolf hand across the desk scattering glasses and mugs as they broke on the floor. “Fuck!!” He roared out, his tone tinged with …

and looking for the prince but we couldn't find him "general we can't find the prince" one of my men reported to me "keep on searching" I shouted with impatience. We had to find him or else I'll be dead before I have a chance to report my failure, after a while the warriors came rushing towards us and the prince was running to the battle with one of the sirens from the river. When they got to us the battle got heated up, arrows were raining from the sky and my men were dying but we still had the upper hand and that was when the so called tribreed prince shifted into a dragon and started to rain fire on us. In a matter of minutes half of my men had been killed, the tables had turned and we w

“Why are you taking so long?! Hurry up, you old prune!” Luntian frowned at Calleb and silently begged the spirits for forgiveness. She bowed her head slightly. “Forgive that foolish boy, oh great spirit of the forest. He’s foolish and young and hot-headed you see. But he carries the power and aura to release the descendants from the spell. He's the Prince, though rough around the edges.”

Down in the upper courtyard, seven-year-old Prince Valen was engaged in his morning physical drills. The young heir to the throne stood at the center of the granite ring, his dark leather training tunic fitted precisely to his frame. Opposite him stood Beta Marcus, holding a broad wooden practice shield. Valen’s swirling starlight eyes were bright with sharp, calculating focus. Since his ascension in the subterranean Celestial Vault, the divine runes etched permanently along his forearms pulsed with a steady, silver-purple glow. "Show me your foundation, Little Prince!" Marcus called out with a wide grin. "A Sovereign doesn't just strike—he controls the ground beneath his feet!"

Julius Darcey. The Third Prince was a smaller version of Elijah but had a goofy smile on his face. Noah Darcey. The Second Princess, wore a suit similar to Julius. She had a scar that covered her right eye, which had an eye patch. Theodora Darcey. The Fourth Prince was missing. The Sixth Prince was Gerard Darcey. The only one besides the Empress that looked surprised. It was like he saw a ghost. "What an entrance," said Callum. His hand clapping. "I expect no less from a Dragon Slayer like yourself."

One of awe and pure admiration. "You're excused" The Prince said referring to the maids and cal who nodded in understanding. "What is your-" "Corey" He said indignantly. "Corey Adams. Descendant of zion, strong connection to wind and water. King of one of the strongest kingdoms of the three realms ruled by the sun goddess" Huh? "Corey huh. I admire your sense of humour." "Eat up. We have a lot to discuss" Five spoons into the soup, I was already full. No doubt, Kellyn had eaten more than half of hers.

After being forced to donate my blood to Zachary Doolithe, my wife Anna Lang's childhood sweetheart, I died in the small quarters that she had personally decorated for me. Before I died, my five-year-old son ran to the main quarters and begged Anna three times. The first time, he broke in and said that I was vomiting blood. Anna scoffed. "I see he's improved his ways. He's even taught our son to lie." Then she ordered the servants to take my son out. The second time, he knocked on the door and said that I was already beginning to convulse in pain. Anna tutted. "I only asked for a little blood, didn't I? It's not like I cut out his heart. Why is he pretending?” The servant stepped forw

He leaned close to the prince’s throat, inhaling deeply. “That pulse,” Velis whispered, lips brushing his captive’s skin. “That scent. Familiar. Too familiar.” Caelum jerked his head aside, jaw set in defiance. “I am The Crown Prince of the Ashan Federation. The last of my line. You think me weak? You butcher, you carrion lord—you murdered my father, my brothers, in the War of Crimson Eclipse!” His voice cracked, fury and grief in equal measure. “And still you dare to touch me.”

Unofficially, it taught control. I tightened my grip on my backpack as I crossed the gates, dragging my suitcase behind me. The courtyard unfolded like a painting - manicured hedges, cobblestone paths, black-iron buildings steeped in centuries of quiet authority. The kind of place that didn’t need to announce its power. It simply existed. Students moved through the space with effortless precision, dressed in quiet luxury, exchanging familiar smiles and subtle gestures that spoke of legacy and entitlement. Above us, Ravenwood’s black banners snapped against the grey sky as a stage was assembled near the main hall.

It has existed up to our 8th generation. Well before each successor dies, they take up a chosen mate for their son that'll bore an heir for them and the Prince will be crowned as the next King. The former king celebrates their 30th birthday where they mysteriously give up the ghost. This has been going on for centuries and it was my turn to be crowned King after my father and take on a chosen mate as I was next in line to the throne.