The Cruel Prince Free Novels & Stories

"Get up and wash your filthy self. We leave in thirty minutes. Either that, or crawl back to Napoli." The Prince spat on the ground and turned away, his gaze full of loathing. The Queen, her strength depleted, clenched her fists until her nails drew blood. That foolish Prince! You bastard! I’ll kill you! I’ll send you to hell along with that bitch Snow White! "Snow White! I will never let you have your happy ending!!"

“I’ve only come to pay my respects.” “In… in this manner?!” She yells, face rumpled in disgust as she takes in his appearance. “You’re barely dressed. You barged in here with whores and you reek of alcohol! Why on earth do you keep tainting the royal family’s name?! Don't you have any respect for the king or the crown prince?!” There’s pleading and desperation in her voice, emotions I think are enough to make the drunken prince feel remorseful but instead, he laughs.

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.

"You have the reputation of being a man who doesn’t trust people easily, be close off with the general public, which could mean you're cruel." She leaned further, taking in the features of his face, the pores of his skin too visible and radiant under the light. "But, you're not cruel," Celina said with complete confidence. "Your smile and your eyes are far too kind for that." The Prince choked on the air, “Yeah?” Celina nodded her head, leaning back. Silence blanketed the room, making her skin prickle as she pinched her eyes shut. The sound of their ragged breaths echoed in the room until the Prince spoke.

The tenth year since I accidentally landed in modern-day America, and the system finally noticed me—a glitch in its timeline. It told me that in three days, I'd be sent back to where I truly belonged. Back to London. Back to my era. And I—I used to be one of the most powerful men in the entire British Empire. Alexander William Windsor. First in line to the British throne. The system gave me seventy-two hours. A countdown to say goodbye to this century. Day one, my fiancée Evelyn told me our wedding had to be called off. Because Ryan—the boy she'd grown up with—had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Day two, Evelyn brought Ryan home. To our home. She said he had nowhere else to go. Asked

a soldier reports, pointing at a young man in the line of kneeling suspects. The Prince is already shaking. "Ademon promised that he would help me become the Alpha of our pack instead of my fraternal twin. I am sorry for becoming his fool. I beg for your mercy, your Majesties. I would rather you turn me into your slave than kill me," the traitorous prince cries even before he is tortured. "You have proved that you were always the evil twin. The sin of siding with the witches cannot be forgiven," Alcott states. "We shall grant you the mercy of a quick death. Beheading rather than burning."

"Hey, scum, I've made myself perfectly clear. I am not Selena. I won't be like those women who are willing to share you, or serve you for your power and rank. If it's empty flattery and false affection you want, then go to her. Why are you clinging to me?" Freya struggled fiercely but couldn't break free from the prince's grip. "Let go! Don't touch me with the same hands that touched her!" she shouted. Still, Frederick didn't release her. In a sudden fury, Freya raised her hand and struck him sharply across the face. The loud smack echoed through the silent ranks of soldiers. Every one of them froze, eyes wide, barely daring to breathe. Even Sally felt a chill run down her spine. He was a pr

A prince who walked out of today’s session furious. A prince whose silence meant something dangerous. Good. Let them fear me. Fear made men honest, if only briefly. I moved deeper into the ballroom, crossing beneath archways wrapped in fresh flowers and past fountains overflowing with roses dyed to match the royal colours. Ice sculptures shaped like mythical beasts glittered in the candlelight, shallow attempts at opulence in a kingdom struggling to hide its own decay. Servants hurried past carrying trays heavy with delicacies imported from neighboring lands, lands pretending they weren’t watching Eldenwald’s drought with morbid curiosity.

"Huh? If this is true, there will be an uproar tomorrow. But well, even if the prince's face is ugly, the uproar will still happen. Well! Brother, how about we make a bet?" Suddenly, the fifth prince looked at the crown prince with a hopeful gaze. "Huh? Bet on what?" asked the crown prince. "Let's bet on how ugly the prince is and how excited the people who come there tomorrow will be. The prize is your hundred-year-old drink and my hundred-year-old fish. How about it?" said the fifth prince, offering his idea to the crown prince.

The sound of the drums followed again, and behind the king appeared three young men and a beautiful girl with tufts of snow. For the screaming to rise again. "God, have mercy on me." Damontry rolled her eyes. She looked again at the princes to notice that they were only four, and bent down a little to whisper to Danielle. "They are four, where is the Fifth Prince!" No sooner had she finished her sentence than a huge gray wolf appeared in the middle of the princes. "Ladies and gentlemen, Your Highness, the Prince and Crown Prince, William Jong-in." In the palace where the bodies were swaying here and there and some classical music appears in the background.