The Cruel Prince Novels & Stories

"His family runs half of Europe's pharmaceutical trade. Polite as hell off the field. Completely ruthless on it." "Twenty two?" "Audric Sterling. Old English money, He's been in three separate disciplinary hearings this year and walked out of all of them without a single mark on his record." "And number four?" A pause. "Zian Castillo," Marcus says. "Half Spanish, half Korean." Another pause, heavier this time. "Don't get on his bad side." "Good to know." "I'm serious." The warning itself is off character for someone like Marcus who clearly seems to hate me.

The sharp crack echoes through the room. “Prince, stop!” I grab his arm mid-swing, yanking him back slightly, but he shrugs me off like I’m nothing. He’s not listening, his fury radiating off him in waves as he glares down at Max, who’s groaning and trying to crawl away. “This is what you do, Ghost?” Prince snarls, his voice a low growl. “You bring men like him here and fuck around? You can’t even wait until I’m out of the picture before throwing yourself at someone else?”

The spear shafts, forged from steel, intertwined like an inseparable web, trying to trap him in his seat. The spearheads sliced through the air, emitting a sharp whistling sound, yet the person sitting on the black chair remained motionless. Prince Kral stood tall, his fierce features exuding an aura of darkness. Beneath his black hair, his golden eyes flickered with a tinge of crimson, resembling a towering death god with icy dominance. Nowarrior dared to approach Prince Kral. He was seated on the chair, even though it seemed like he was trapped by spears and unable to move.

he saw his castle is burning and explode everything is disappeared. just a few pieces of wood and wall left not a single person is alive even their dead body is not there. looking that incident make prince depressed and he broke down he comes to his knees with dead eyes, tears are flowing like a river. his brain his blackout owl:- are you alright master prince get back to his sense he starts punching the ground and cries like a baby prince:- he what just happened. please tell me my family is safe. where is my mom, father and sister don't tell me they are dead

It was here last night when I was reading. "Which one?" He tusked at the thrown cushions and started picking them up. Pushing my fallen hair at the back, I moved to the LED panel and crunched down to check the drawers. "The Cruel Prince. I was on a plot twist. Jude had killed a royal fiery. She was so badass. She hid his body and she will be in a big trouble because you see she's the mortal among fairies and that's not good. Fairies are immortal—"

Then he chuckled as he pointed his sword at her. Bella looked at the sword with fear in her eyes. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to be killed by such a cruel person. “Humph. You stupid trash!” shouted Crown Prince. Just as he swung his sword into the air, something flickered in his heart. Something sad and painful. He grunted at the aching pain. He dropped his sword. His sword landed on the ground with a clinked and clacked. “What’s-What’s wrong?” asked Braum. He ran to Crown Prince, trying to aid him back up.

She is a nerdy Omega everyone picked on. He is the bad boy Alpha who hated her. Until fate changed everything. Lily Mittens had always kept her head down, hiding behind books and oversized sweaters, secretly crushing on Joe Wellington, the rude, arrogant future Alpha who never even looked her way. So when the Moon Goddess marks Joe as her fated mate, Lily is excited, but Joe doesn’t want a weak Omega for a Luna. But Lily is no ordinary wolf. She has a power that could change everything but she doesn't know it yet. Will Joe see the real Lily before it’s too late? Will Joe Wellington accept her as his fated mate? Find out in this story!

The soup was terrible. That was the first thing Kaevrix Noctharis Virellion — Crown Alpha of the Virellion Dominion, heir to four centuries of wolf-blooded power, feared across every territory the dominion touched — thought when the girl shoved the bowl in front of him and told him to drink it before it went cold. Not who is this child. Not how dare she. Not even the appropriate sovereign fury of someone unaccustomed to being spoken to like an inconvenience.

Then, through the trees, a column of riders appeared—black silhouettes against the crimson light. The villagers poured into the square, whispering prayers. At the front rode a man who seemed carved from shadow itself. His armor was etched with runes that pulsed faintly red, and a long cloak flowed behind him like smoke. His face was half hidden by a hood, but his eyes caught the moonlight—crimson, cold, and alive. “The Dark Prince,” someone breathed. “He’s real.” The man dismounted, the air itself seeming to bow away from him. His gaze swept the crowd. “By order of the Crown,” he said, voice low but carrying. “We seek the girl born under the Blood Moon.”

His eyes blazing red. I freeze, counting my breath. My fingers trembling as I brace for his wrath, but he only smiles, tucking the dagger away. "I’m done 'ere, Kaida. Clean this mess up, and take care of the prisoners… and do take care of yourself." He adds the last bit icily, and I gulp. The sweat on my palms is cold and my breath is shallow. Among the Princes, Prince Drelduin is the one we all dread most. The King’s mirror image except he's sharper and crueller. A bloody psychopath. And like most of the Variants of Spargia, I pray he never finds his mate.