The Cruel Prince Valerian Novels & Stories

Magnus's black eyes burned with the fires of the ancient, his handsome face mutating into his true form as he smiled evilly 'soon, vengeance will be mine! She was here. Even if a scribe hadn't come to his room, Valenar would know. Raeann was his mate, after all. The imperial prince looked at his reflection in the mirror, His lean face had healed as much as it would, but a jagged scar still announced itself from the tip of his reptilian eyes to the fullness of his lips, a permanent reminder of what had happened to him. If it hadn't been for Raeann and the bevy of talent at the Academy, Valenar knew he wouldn't be here right now, and this fact humbled the last remaining warlock prince. Glancin

“ I hear you have an update about the vampire. “ Prince George says to me the minute I enter the study room . He does not greet me or even look at me while asking me questions about the vampire . “ Good morning Prince George please ask your personal royal guard to leave the room before I can give you an update . “ I humbly ask Prince George to tell his personal royal guard who is always following him to leave us to talk because I do not want anyone else to find out that he is the vampire that has been troubling people . I do not trust anyone and he certainly should not trust anyone either . He commands his Royal personal guard to leave the study room and for the first time since I have got h

Seraphina cried loudly, feeling that her life had been played by fate. After crying until she was tired, Seraphina finally slept with her body curled up, trying to find some comfort. Meanwhile, the Lycan King known as Valerian suddenly appeared in the middle of the night. He entered Seraphina's room and turned off the light. "I don't want to see your face," the mysterious Valerian muttered. He was the Lycan King who had lived thousands of years, punished by fate. He was a cold, hard and mysterious man, no one could get close to him, except someone who could give his life for something worthwhile, like Seraphina's parents. But that didn't mean that Valerian wanted Seraphina. He just needed a

"So, a few dusty leeches woke up. Tell them the world belongs to the wolves now, and if they misbehave, my wife will freeze them into lawn ornaments." "You don't understand, Killian," Valerius’s crimson eyes flashed with urgency. "They aren't just awake. They are furious. They woke up to find that the Crimson Court—their legacy—had bowed to a Lycan King. To them, my submission to you is the ultimate treason against our bloodline." Valerius pulled a crumpled, blood-stained piece of parchment from his coat and placed it on the desk. It was sealed with black wax stamped with a fractured skull.

"That would be… foolish." My breath caught, making my knees nearly gave way. "Who..." My voice shook. "...who are you?" He smiled, slow and cruel, yet devastatingly beautiful. "Valerian." The name crashed into me like ice water. My stomach churned, my lips parted but no sound came out because everyone knew that name. Valerian Draegor? The Blood Prince and leader of the vampires. The eternal figure whispered to have lived for two centuries yet carrying the face of a man barely thirty.

The King let out a chuckle then grabbed a bread knife to throw at the Prince, “You catch really well, Prince. Have you been playing any sports when you were young?” “What do you mean young, Your Highness? I am still young though, am I not? I could pass as your son looking at my appearance,” “But you are older than me, isn’t that right, Prince Valiar?” The Vampire Prince laughed at the King of the Werewolves claim and looked at the terrified young princess beside him.

His eyes—those terrible, pale eyes—glowed faintly in the dim light. King Valerian was the embodiment of a warrior king—tall, broad-shouldered, and carved from muscle and discipline. His physique was built not by luxury but by centuries of battle, every line of his body honed like a weapon. Unlike most alphas, his skin bore a faint, icy pallor, a reflection of the frozen lands he ruled, and his long, silver-streaked black hair flowed like the northern winds he commanded. But it was his eyes that set him apart—piercing pale grey, almost white, glowing faintly with the eerie calm of a predator who didn’t need to snarl to be feared. Even in silence, Valerian commanded a room, a man of both chill

“None of us predicted this. My husband, the King, was deceived as well by Lady Margaret. She and her son are currently being punished for their crimes. Rest assured, Princess Loretta is well taken care of. She will wake as soon as she receives blood from her own kind…that is…you.” The Vampire Prince shot to his feet instantly, chair scraping violently. “This is nonsense!” he snarled, voice dripping venom. “An insult to our entire bloodline! These dogs have been stepping on our necks long enough! My sister has been unconscious for over a week and they’ve been hiding it from us like cowards?” He opened his mouth to hurl more poison, but King Valerian raised one finger. Two of his guards moved

“This is Crown Prince Valen Wolverson, our soon-to-be werewolf King and his Beta, Devin Smithson.” Mikayla emitted a feeble, “Hi.” “Open the cell,” Valen commanded, firm and flat. His aura had the same burning, upward-pushing energy as a Saturn V rocket. Depending on his words, it either sucked you in or spat you out. Axel stepped forward with the keys and performed the task, sliding the silver bar door open. Mikayla did not move and her pale blue eyes rested only on me. “So you are the little fairy who managed to tie down this stubborn Alpha?” Valen informally asked to help her relax. Mikayla twisted her mouth in the cutest way that made me want to kiss her. “Come out, Mikayla.”

“I am your prince!” One of the guards stepped forward, his eyes cold and unyielding. He leveled his spear at me, his voice devoid of emotion as he spoke the words that sent ice through my veins. “Prince Neil, you are under arrest and sentenced to death for consorting with Werewolves.”