The Crown's Game Book Novelas e Histórias

3rd person perspective It must be quite a sight to behold. The Crown Prince of the Wolves; The Leader of the Vamps; The Second Born Princess of The Wolves; The Witch Queen and The Gremlin General marching at the head of an army. They emerge from the forest and March down the hill towards an awaiting band of Angels. The army holts and Roy steps forward. “We wish to speak to The Daemonium.” His voice carries across the valley. Black shadows form around the training grounds and from them rises a Fae Male.

Kael protested. "You need titles for formal occasions," she insisted. "Traditional or innovative?" Through the bond, we considered. "The Broken Crown," Lyra said suddenly. "That is what we are. Five pieces of what should be singular authority, shattered and reformed into something new." Silence. Then slow nods. "The Broken Crown," Queen Elara repeated, testing the phrase. "The Council of Five, known as the Broken Crown. I approve." She stood, and the Court stood with her.

Not yet. Before I can ask, Ronan's radio sounds. He steps outside. Returns in ninety seconds. Sets something on the table. A sealed envelope. The wolf-and-crown symbol stamped into the wax on the back. No address. No name. Just the symbol. Inside, one page. Clean handwriting. Unhurried. Eight words. The half-blood princess will not reach the crown.

Below them, the Council of Elders and thousands of pack members stood in solemn silence. They were all waiting for me—the Luna—to appear. More than that, they were waiting for the White Wolf royalty's envoy to witness the ceremony. Time ticked by, yet my seat remained empty. Alexander's expression grew increasingly anxious and dark. He kept signaling to his guards, urging them to hurry me along. Just then, a sharp wolf's howl rang out from the edge of the square. The crowd parted instantly, then dropped to one knee in shock. The one who had arrived was no mere envoy, but the ruler of the entire werewolf kingdom, the White Wolf Alpha King himself.

Both of them had a remarkable talent for appearing at exactly the moment needed to make my life unbearable. In my previous life, I had never actually met Nora. I had only heard Owen mention the foster sister he protected so fiercely. I had once wondered what kind of woman could make a Lycan Alpha remember her for years. Now I had my answer. Someone perfectly matched to Owen. I took a slow breath before answering, forcing down the anger rising in my chest. “I already told Owen the Crown is not forming an alliance with him,” I said calmly. “If you like him, feel free to keep him. No one is competing with you.”

The game was in motion. And the crown was no longer just a symbol. It was a challenge.

Xiao Chen asked coldly, staring at the elder. "Of course, I admit defeat! This is yours now," replied the elder, throwing a book at Xiao Chen. It was clear that without Xiao Chen saying anything about the bet, he was already prepared to admit defeat. This was even more surprising than when Xiao Chen stole treasure from people in his sect. The Crown Sect, known for being arrogant and unwilling to admit defeat, would actually admit defeat in front of so many people watching them here. "It seems you're different from them, huh? Being able to admit victory and defeat like that is the first time I've seen it in the Crown Sect!" Xiao Chen said, both praising and mocking the Crown Sect openly.

Tonight was supposed to be the first calm Friday in forever: no revenants, no Hollow Choir remnants, no oni trying to drag me into a drinking contest under the bleachers. I’m in my room, door locked, chemistry notes spread out like a losing battle. I’m re-drawing the same Vinča symbol on my palm for the 2,114th time (healing wipes it clean every morning, same old routine). Then the bloodstone cracks. A tiny, perfect fracture right down the center. A single drop of liquid starlight (not blood) beads up and rolls down my forehead onto my open textbook. The Crown HUD flickers once. CROWN INTEGRITY: 10 / 47

And somehow… I forgot all of that. I forgot this entire thing started as a game. And worst of all? I willingly handed him my queen on the chees board . The realization made my stomach twist painfully. “Fuck you little one,” I muttered toward my stomach. Because clearly this baby was responsible for at least eighty percent of my current emotional instability. Before Timmy could respond, footsteps suddenly approached the office. Then the door opened. “Hey firecracker.” Jacob. Of course. My eyes lifted instantly toward him as he walked inside looking unfairly attractive in a black suit while holding a file casually beneath one arm.

Damon drifts toward center ice and stops at the logo. I follow. For a moment, we stand where the game began. Where so much between us almost ended. “Funny,” he says. “All that fighting over who gets the crown.” “And?” He looks at me fully. “There was only ever one.” The words hang there. Not competitive. Not sharp. Certain. Only one crown. And it doesn’t belong to one king. The arena lights dim slightly as the crew prepares to clean up. I feel his hand brush mine. Not by accident.