The Crowned King Novels & Stories

The great doors close with a sound like breaking bones, leaving me alone with the ache of this cursed crown and the weight of a kingdom built on graves. The crown itself pulses against my temples, its once-brilliant gold now tarnished to the color of old blood. It used to shine like captured sunlight, a beacon of hope and righteous rule. Now it hums with an endless network of hairline cracks, each fracture a spider's thread of corruption spreading deeper into the metal and into me. Each break is a reminder that nothing in this world remains unbroken: not thrones built on noble intentions, not bloodlines stretching back to heroes of legend, not oaths sworn under starlight with hearts full of

Only I had been trapped in my own delusion—believing Damian loved me too. "Don't worry, Harrison. I won't follow him anymore. And I won't keep hurting myself for his sake." I had already made my decision. I was going back to the North. I was going to become the Alpha Prime. To stop myself from wavering, I immediately called my father. Caspian Nightshade was overjoyed. He had always said my talent and ability would be wasted if I didn't take the throne. Damian was just the Alpha of a mid-tier pack. He could never be king.

I raised my head now to look at him, watch it all come to me. He carried the crown up, although it was heavier than it looked, it didn't seem like that. Then in a loud and booming voice, he announced, “I now pronounce you Luciano Salvatore, first son of his deceased highness King and ruler of this great kingdom” In calculated fashion, he placed the crown on my head and joy stormed through me. I broke out in a laugh and as if that was what they had been looking for, the crowd clapped thunderously for me.

His voice carries through the square as he begins the ancient rites. “On this day, before the eyes of our people, under the sky that has watched our kingdom rise and fall for generations, we crown a ruler to guide us.” The words feel distant. My gaze flicks back to the crowd. Scanning. Searching. No Althea. My skin itches under the collar. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. The chancellor turns to me, holding the crown in both hands. It’s gold. Pure. Heavy with history. He lifts it, stepping forward—

The honor a knight earns in battle, defense for the weak, and even standing bravely where no one will and can. THE CROWN. A royal blooded title, pride, and the entirety of their lives deal, where their world revolves and is only known for. Taken as the highest in the towering pedestal of their lives, it is the throne where blood and sins were covered. With its brightness and fame as the ruler and ruling stance of their lives, it is the dark and menacing life that only cares for power and luxury, that even the purest one can be tainted with its darkness.

Lance’s voice was strong as it echoed through the room. “Then with this crown, I leave my throne and my people in your care, my son.” The King removed his staff and picked up the crown with both hands and set it gently on top of Lancelin’s head. “Bow, Lancelin Eustein, servant of the Gods above, and rise King Lancelin Eustein, the new ruler of the Incubi Kingdom.”

In all this mess she totally forgot about the crown. "It was yours?!" She asked shocked. "Yes" He said. He doesn't knows what is there to be shocked about. "B-but the crown looked like it belong to some powerful king. How is it related with you-" She stopped in middle has realisation dawned upon her. "I am the King. The King of supernaturals." He said. His tone had no hint of arrogance or even pride. It was like he was just stating a common fact. For him it might be nothing unusual but for Thea it was a whole different thing.

“But I have a feeling he is the one responsible for all of this?” “Might be. Do you know anything about him?” “Nothing except he asked me to steal the crown before your coronation.” “Ah, it tracks!” “What?” “If someone steals my crown before the coronation, they can challenge me to a duel of life or death, challenge my crown and my position as the king. The crown also has magic, Vera, ancient magic. It gives power to the ruler of Draconia. It is not just an ornament. It is history, it is a source of power.”

Loki interrupted, returning her gaze to him. The young man by name; Kylo Greyson, shot a brow upwards in a brief surprise before he gave one short nod at her. "Alright if you insist, my lady." He bowed slightly at her and Loki frowned, her brows creasing briefly. She turned around to leave but on second thought, paused. Turning back to him she added, "Its been Ms. Colleen for many years now, not Ms. Donovan. It is way too late for a sudden change of names, don't you agree?"

'Until then, I trust no one. Elly--aka--Levara's gaze moved forward, the doors leading toward the Emperor's private wing were getting closer, her footsteps remained calm and elegant and her expression remained that of the beloved Crown Princess. But beneath that composed face, a single promise burned fiercely.