The Cruel Prince Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

I whispered. A few moments later, a notification popped up on my phone. A new post from Serena. The picture was of a room blanketed in jewels—rubies, sapphires, emeralds, piled up like small mountains. The caption read: 【Just said I was in a bad mood, and he sent all this. So dramatic! Good morning, my Prince of the Night. 】 The comments were a flood of envious praise. I put my phone down. I couldn't produce a single tear.

“Because your survival… will belong to me. And the first lesson begins tonight.” Elara’s chest tightened. Fear, defiance, and the pull of the curse collided inside her, a storm she couldn’t control. She understood then—the Dark Prince was more than a hunter, more than a ruler, more than a shadow in her nightmares. He was the thread itself, binding her, shaping her fate, and claiming her survival as his own.

Mikhail flopped onto his bed before curling into a ball. Thoughts of his birthright danced in his head. He found it difficult to process that he was a prince. He rolled around in his sheets for a bit before finally spreading out his arms and legs and staring at the ceiling. He furrowed his brows before moving to get up. Mikhail sat upright and glanced at the neatly packed suitcase he tucked in the corner of his room before stumbling over to the rickety bookshelf he made a few days after moving to Tefflander. He reached out to a worn looking book and tugged at it's spine.

He was reacting like something had been touched that he had not given anyone permission to touch. That realization shifted the room again. Kael looked away from Elara first this time, but not quickly enough. The Alpha stepped closer. “You are not in control of this situation.” Kael’s mouth tightened. “Apparently, no one is.” The words landed too hard. Too honest. For a moment, even the Alpha said nothing. Elara’s pulse beat painfully in her throat. She wanted to disappear so badly it hurt. She wanted the floor to open, the lights to dim, the room to forget her again. Anything would have been better than standing between a prince and an Alpha while the entire pack watched the cracks spread.

I couldn’t stand for a second anymore, so I quietly turned and walked out. I looked at my wrist and then I saw the real, beautiful and glowing silver mark still on it. I held on to one with that, no matter the amount of hatred Rowan has for me, the bond still existed and he can’t do anything. I’ll give him time to adapt and come off his cold attitude towards me, because he can’t reject me. The next morning, the palace discussed sending several instructors to teach me royal etiquette since I’m the prince’s destined mate. A few minutes afterwards, an etiquette instructor arrived looking at me with disdain, like we have met or had a horrible encounter before.

He could feel it, the cruel prince was up to one of his games again and he was going to drag him into it. Issac stood ramrod his hands behind him, "Of course! I have to rescue the crown prince!" "Good. You pick up faster than I thought." Aldric grinned, his white sharp teeth making him look more fiendish than he was supposed to look. It took everything in Isaac not to run away when the cruel prince approached him till they were standing face to face. "Now, this is what you are going to do…."

Her large eyes were catchy and her body was so soft and white he longed to push a finger through. "This just keeps getting weirder!" She said still clutched to the door, staring at him with a horror look. He shrugged, not minding her reaction, and closed the book. He saw the name and walked out, majestically. She couldn't blame him, he was a Prince and he behaved as such. Surely, she couldn't expect an apology from a Prince. Right now, he remembered where he had seen the name Sathanas and something rang in his head. Sathanas was back to kill the devil Prince. He rushed in and the duo looked back at him looking shocked.

She tried to prepare herself for what was to come, but she couldn't shake the fear that gripped her. She heard footsteps approaching and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the worst. But to her surprise, it was the prince who entered the room. Blair's heart sank. She knew that this was bad, that the prince was the last person she wanted to see in this situation. The prince stood in front of her, a cruel smile on his face. He leaned in close, his hot breath on her cheek, and whispered, "You shouldn't have touched what wasn't yours." Blair tried to plead with him, to beg for mercy, but he just laughed. He reached for one of the devices and turned to her, a look of pure sadism on his face. He

My four wolf legs landed right in front of the four traitors, who always put on a frightened face. I've managed to switch shifts with the lazy prince. This Alpha wolf of mine roared loudly, then jumped up and ruffled the bodies of the three of them. Prince is famous for having high speed easily tearing their bodies, biting their necks, and scratching every inch of their bodies until they are decomposed like torn paper. The prince's black fur was soaked with the blood of the traitors, and his fangs sharpened as more and more of the flesh he tore shattered.

Caesar stepped into the snow. Not in armor. Not in rage. But in a long coat lined with dark gold, its silver buttons gleaming like captured moonlight. He was tall, graceful.His face carved by gods, yet softened by warmth. Pale lips curved in a smile. A single blood-red mole beneath his right eye, like a drop of wine on porcelain. More radiant than Lucian. More comforting than the hearth. The Blood Prince of the Empire. He stopped before me. Then knelt—just slightly—so our eyes met level.