روايات وقصص ضمن The Crown

I said. "Yes," my mother said. She was behind me, adjusting the angle of the collar. "I thought about changing it. I could have made it silver entirely, or the Draeven grey, or any of a dozen other things." A pause. "I didn't change it because cream is the color you wear when you're presenting yourself to be seen. The ceremony at the bonding hall was someone else presenting you to be diminished. The coronation is you presenting yourself to be known." She smoothed the shoulder seam. "The color should be the same. The dress shouldn't be." I looked at the two of them in my head — the Voss bonding hall dress, and this one.

“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.

I stared at him for a second, then took it slowly, already annoyed because if this was another attempt at convincing me of this nonsense, I was about to lose whatever patience I had left. Then I looked at the screen. And just like that, everything in my head went completely still. The headline was bold. Too bold and looks too real. Alexandra Fisher Hale the queen of the business world is pregnant and to be married to Jacob Grey. I blinked. Once. Twice. Then I looked up at Dada. “What the actual fuck?” The words came out before I could even stop them, because at this point, manners were the least of my concerns. Because what?

Nikolai’s POV The she-wolf slurped my whole cock down her throat, bobbing her head rapidly, but my mind was far from being in the moment with her. At some point, it starts to feel like just vanity, especially when I have pressing things on my mind like the pack's inspection coming up. As the new Alpha king, it’s not as glamorous as most people make it out to be. In fact, I see it more like a curse than a blessing.

As we move—brothers sealing exits, plans snapping into place—I know one thing with brutal clarity: She understands the world. What she doesn’t understand yet… …is how far four Crown Lords are willing to burn it down to keep her breathing.

“Two days ago, Alexander personally took her to a private jeweler. Measurements, design consultations—he stayed the entire time.” My heart clenched. “There’s more,” Ethan continued. “And it gets worse.” “I accessed her private cloud. Password was Alexander’s birthday.” Inside were photos. Hundreds of them. I opened the file he sent. The album was titled: My Knight. The most recent post was dated two days ago. He said this crown belongs only to me. Just like him. Next week’s family dinner—he promised to give me a name. The image showed an exquisite bridal crown— diamonds and sapphires set in a constellation pattern.

At the center, resting atop a stone pedestal, is a jagged crown—half bone, half scorched gold, smoldering with silent flame. Ceres (awestruck): "That's it…" Lady Ilven (reverently): "The Crown of Flame and Bone. Forged in dragonfire. Tempered with the blood of the first Umbra king. It can only be worn by a rightful heir." Guard (low voice): "It looks like it's… alive." Indeed, the crown pulses faintly as if breathing. Ceres: "Why bring me here?" I'm not here to rule. I want answers." Lady Ilven (approaching the pedestal):

Without my mother’s help, I would not be kneeling here ready to become Queen. “As I place this crown onto you, Isabella Nightlock, I crown thee Alpha Queen to the werewolf nation of Canada.” My father finalizes the coronation, the weight of the crown being placed on top of my head. It is heavier than I expected since the crown is made of white gold and moonstones. I had seen the concept art before and listened to how the designer explained the intricate design of the moon in its many phases. I fell in love with the design at first glance, the last of five being shown to me two years before my coronation, as

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Rejecting His Queen Chapter 1Rejecting His Queen PrologueRejecting His Queen Chapter 12

The Lunari chair stood empty, draped in black. I looked around, I seen my father sitting at the head of the table, our king, a towering figure in both stature and presence, exuded an aura of cold, unyielding ambition. His eyes, sharp and calculating, gleamed with an insatiable hunger for power an appetite that could never be sated, no matter how many kingdoms he claimed or how many crowns he added to his collection. His face was lined with the marks of age and experience, but there was no softness in his expression, no trace of kindness or warmth. The people who looked upon him saw not a father, but a ruler, a king forged from iron will and relentless desire for control.

The grand duke, his eyes ablaze with fervor, addressed the butler with an air of authority, "How goes the party, caleb?" The butler, his features marked with a grave solemnity, reported, "Prince Addison has made an announcement. He intends to crown Chiara Windsor, the daughter of Dominic Windsor, as the empress." Upon hearing this, Lucas arched an eyebrow as he sipped his tea, his mind racing with thoughts of Elen Windsor and her rumored powers, her unwavering loyalty to her family, and her purported status as a fairy. "And what about Elen Windsor? Is she to have no part in this?" Lucas queried, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips.