The Jasmine Throne Novels & Stories

I'm not sure what the advantages of the man who is always glorified by the entire campus are; besides his handsome face, what else does he have? Ah, let me introduce myself; my name is Jasmine Smith. There is nothing special about me; it's just that my family is quite rich, so my life feels very easy. I can get anything I want. But somehow, my life feels bland. Maybe because I have too much money, I no longer have the motivation to get something.

I leaned back in my chair, my fingers steepling as I contemplated the implications. "Everything I've been preparing for hinges on this moment, Marcus. Lex thinks he's safe, but he has no idea what's coming." "You're not just talking about crashing the wedding, are you?" Marcus asked, his tone a bit suspicious. "You're planning to take the throne back." "Exactly," I replied, my voice low and steady. "I will bring doom upon that wedding and reclaim what is rightfully mine. And then, I will wed my brother's Luna." Marcus gasped and cleared his throat. It was something he always did whenever he was skeptical about something.

Sarah’s limbs felt stiff as she was led to a soft, red velvet armchair and sat down. The square table in front of her was also draped in understated, luxurious red velvet, creating a striking visual contrast with the table’s jade-like luster—a sight of breathtaking beauty. Exquisitely prepared dishes, arranged on silver platters, lay on the table, looking so tempting they made one’s mouth water. Moreover, the most eye-catching sight was a bottle of Lafite held by Adrian. He opened it and poured the deep red wine into a stemmed glass set before her.

She pulled him with her and I watched as she walked out towards the door, heading out of the grand hall. I was quiet as I stared at them before taking a seat. My mind having so many questions in it as it swirled with them.Questions that I did not have answers to, and I found myself frowning. Because even through the darkness that was inside of me. It recognized what my heart no longer had the strength to deny. Marc Winthrop was mine. And Jasmine was not the aunt she claimed to be. She was his mother.

I pushed him over the edge. Sebastian's face twisted in rage as he bellowed, "Out! Get out now!" The door slammed shut behind me. I let out a wry chuckle, picked up a stray garment from the floor, and tucked it into my suitcase. In the dimly lit room of the grand villa, Rosa's voice trembled with a mix of urgency and regret. "Don, this is all my fault. I've put you in such a tough spot. Maybe I should just hand the title of Mrs. back to Ms. DeLuca?"

Together we climbed the long marble steps toward the throne that had once been stained by my blood. This time— the crown was ours.

Flora added. The host turned to Jasmine, "You have nothing to add, miss?" Jasmine smiled faintly, "I've always been a firm believer that what's for me is for me. And so, if there are people who seek to take from me, then they must also be ready to bear the crosses I bear." Jasmine said confidently. From the VIP balcony above— A tall figure watched silently. Jasper D’Angelo’s gaze never left Jasmine. He watched the way she stood straight under pressure. The way she didn’t beg. Didn’t cry. Didn’t crumble.

Some of them were so thrilled that their tails shot straight up. The Supreme Ruler of the Werewolf Alliance was a pureblood half-wolf whose bloodline carried overwhelming dominance. He controlled most of the moonstone mines across the continent. Rumor had it he was only in his early thirties. Not only was his strength terrifying, but he also had a five-year-old pureblood heir. As for the mysterious woman who was his mate, she had always been fiercely protected. No ordinary werewolf had ever seen her face. “Oh, Moon Goddess… if I could just catch a whiff of the ruler’s scent today, my life would be complete!”

Nonetheless, the bright full moon at the sky served enough to illuminate the grounds and other objects inside from the open windows. Likewise, the figure of a lady seated on an extravagant, intricately chiseled and decorated throne glows bright as two tall windows flash light on her like converging spotlights. The rear of her fingers altogether supported her tilted head while her other arm rests at her lap. Few meters away from her, a young man stands still, staring directly at her, awaiting the movement she will take. It is Tristan, that child she has been watching over since the first day of their meeting.

Here it is comrades; caged again was the princess. Call me Elena Brown, daughter of Alpha Brown ruling Dawn Moon Pack. I'm a princess, caged in the webs of my father till only the goddess knows. He doesn't want a daughter who screams dirty. He does not welcome his only daughter, who happened to be a princess but doesn't live like it dressing Omega-like; stinking, dirty and unkept. I manoeuvre my way all round my spacious, magnificent bedroom. Everything adorning my room screams wealth. The tilted floor; clean and sparkling. Laying before my eyes was a royal queen sized bed, comfy and spacious.