The Coursed Prince Novels & Stories

I reached for it and settled onto the bed, willing myself to focus on the dense text. The book talked about King Alaric, Prince Keith's father who was tragically cut down in a bloody palace coup, he also lost his wife Queen Isolde during the war, and their son, Prince Keith, the rightful heir to the throne, was left... with broken legs. I stared at the book for a while as different thoughts swirled in my head, this incident had happened ten years ago.

It felt like it made the wolfsbane a more potent chemical than before. "Silver," I summoned him. "Yes, Your Majesty?" He bowed his head, looking worried. I walked to him and bestowed Cloudy. "Hold and protect the first prince. He is Claude and I's treasure. He will be the next Crown Prince so protect him at all cost," I said earnestly. He nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. I will risk my life to protect His Highness, Prince Claudian." That made me relieved as I approached Claude to hold his face that hadn't been healed. His half face was burnt. He was in pain right now, groaning.

The memory of Alaric calling his name sent shivers down his spine, a phantom touch more intoxicating than any drug. He arrived outside the Prince’s antechamber, a massive oak door etched with the royal crest, precisely five minutes early. He adjusted his tunic, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles, and swallowed hard. He was about to knock when he heard voices and approaching footsteps, and for some reason, Kael his behind the heart large piller. "He's utterly unsuitable, Mother. A commoner plucked from the kitchens? Alaric is the Crown

He has not yet had to stare death in the face, he still has a modicum of hope. “If you truly surrender, pay restitution for your theft.” The Prince declares. “I will happily give all the money I have, though it is not much.” “I have no desire for your coin, peasant. Your coin is insignificant to me.” The Prince sneers. “What can I give your majesty to prove my loyalty.” The Prince looks to his cousin, standing in the crowd of observers in court. “Your life.” The Prince replies flatly, a hint of boredom in his tone. Before the words can even register, his throat is slit and his blood stains the floor.

in my head, as if urging me to claim them all at once. The first prince stepped closer, his scent musky and earthy with hints of pine and cedarwood. He was tall and muscular, with piercing hazel eyes and a chiselled jawline. He exuded power and control, and I could tell that he was used to getting what he wanted.

She said cheerfully. Jake chuckled, and she glared at him. "That's different, princess. Oops, sorry. I called you princess again," Jake said. However, this time Elena didn't tell him not to call her princess. "Your doll is alone because she doesn't have a prince," Jake said to her. "Elena, will you become her prince?" She asked him with a hopeful look on her face. "I will become her prince if you become my friend," Jake said, extending his hand toward her.

There’s pleading and desperation in her voice, emotions I think are enough to make the drunken prince feel remorseful but instead, he laughs. He fucking laughs in her face and says, “Keep this up and you just might burst a vein.” Queen Lauretta gasps at his rudeness. Who knew the royal household was literally a battlefield? He turns to the crown prince. “And we wouldn’t want that for our mother dearest, now would we?” But he doesn't even give the crown prince a chance to reply as he reaches for the omegas he came with and then storms out of the ballroom. In his wake is a deafening silence.

I almost believed him, because he sounded painfully sincere but greed still crossed his face as he spoke, eyes never leaving Cayden's chest where the parchment was. After he was done speaking, a very impatient voice came out. This one had no time to even mince his words, they were as crude and cruel as they came. That was the third prince. “You shameless disgrace? You are nothing but a murderer and a sinner, what makes you think you are meant to have that parchment? Return that parchment to the royal family immediately.” Cayden remained motionless. His silence further infuriating them. The entire hall remained tense, some nobles quietly taking their leave. Honestly, I also wanted to leave bu

“If I had wanted your kingdom destroyed, I would not be standing here trying to prevent it.” The prince opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. Something about her calm certainty robbed his accusation of its strength. Before the uneasy silence could stretch any further, the great gates of the courtyard opened once again. This time, it was not a soldier who entered but an elderly man dressed in dark robes embroidered with silver thread. His white beard reached the center of his chest, and he leaned heavily on a staff carved from pale ash wood. The moment he crossed the threshold, every noble bowed respectfully.

Sweat rolled down his body as he blazed in heat; his skin was bright red and veins popped on his hands, neck, forehead and back. 'At least he is wearing pants,' the youngest recruit mused. "Tell the Majesty about it and let him know I am not doing it again!" He groaned and the guard bowed at his back. "Yes, His Royal Highness." The guard blurted and left the prince to sort himself out. He was afraid. When he was here for the recruitment he along with few, were personally gathered by Her Majesty, the Queen. Since he was the Prince's personal bodyguard, still under seniority though, he was informed about the Prince's Curse. He wasn't letting them know that he heard about it before but had thou