The King In Yellow Novels & Stories

It was better to step into a situation and be wrong than to wait and end up slipping up. The car roared as Miguel turned the key in the ignition. It wasn't like the dark king of the underworld would go about killing him for overstepping. The right hand would be too hard to replace in such short notice. That was probably the only thing that he held in his favor currently.

With a thunderous rage, he stormed out of the room, his voice reverberating through the grand halls of the palace. "Everyone should go to the lawn right now!" The unexpected order from their king took everyone aback. All activity ceased as each person dutifully heeded the decree of the king. Only the servants and kitchen staff were called forth for questioning, yet the King deemed it necessary to establish a precedent to prevent any future occurrences. He always gave his queen whatever she wanted, but he couldn't stand to see her in bed again. He used to be afraid to look at her. Her lips appeared swollen and tinged with a deep shade of purple, while her complexion was notably pallid. Emalin

I replied looking as guilty as possible, until I looked at the King directly before we both started to laugh at our little running joke between us. Out of the corner of my eye I see the Queen rolling her eyes at us both whilst we laughed some more at her reaction, “are you two ever going to over this joke?” She says in an annoyed but slightly amused tone, both me and the King shook our heads in unison replied “nope”. She then walked up to me so gracefully like she was floating on the ground and not just walking pulling me into a hug before letting me go to sit down on the sofa next to her and the King. ‘She is stunning’ I thought to myself as I looked in the direction of where both are sitti

Only the color of the walls was changed and the statues were extra shiny along with the throne. "The king was a bastard through and through," Makaria said while turning towards the huge foyer of the hall and pointing at the man who entered the conference hall. I also turned to look at the man she was pointing at and the first thing I saw was the crown on his head, the same crown my father and brother had on their heads when they raised their swords as a king but what I witnessed next was yet another shocking event in my list. Too shocking to be processed in these constantly changing phases. The king was...."Atlas."

Reyland asked, his voice now clouded with something close to wonder. “Our family is old, our history is long, but mostly, your mother was born under a yellow moon. She was expected to be the one. But she was frail. Too frail.” “Had I been wiser, had I been aware, I would have selected the red wolf as her groom. His blood might have done for her what his child’s has done for you,” the King replied easily, as if he were a teacher explaining something to a student, something offhand, factual, like why water is wet.

“How dare you. That was emotional coping! I was under stress! YOU were the one screaming like a banshee in heat when your neck glowed week!” I opened my mouth to argue— Then the king spoke. He didn’t even look up from adjusting the golden flight wrap around his shoulders. “He comes.” I blinked. “What?” “Mr. Yellow flies with us,” Edric repeated like it was law from the heavens. “He has proven useful.” Mr. Yellow smirked. “You hear that? Useful. I’m basically royal.” I muttered under my breath about coups and carrots as the king scooped me into his arms like I was made of stardust and moonlight. And despite my sass, I let him—because one, I was still sore from passing out in a golden firestor

Instead, I pushed the door open wider and stepped into the chamber. The moment my foot crossed the threshold, those powerful eyes snapped open and fixed on me. For a heartbeat, those eyes flashed yellow, and a snarl twisted his features. The King pulled against his chains with sudden violence, the silver links sang like bells as they restrained him. But then, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, recognition dawned in his gaze. The yellow faded back to their natural grey color, and the snarl softened into an expression of confusion and something that might have been relief.

Her few days with The Road Devils had already made Jo re-evaluate assumptions made based on appearance. “You know it, sugar,” he growled and then turned his attention to Jo. “Hi. I’m King.” You sure as hell are. Oh my and dear Lord above. “Hi,” Jo squeaked as those intense gray eyes saw her whole; it was like the man had x-rays in his face and Jo knew that exactly zero got past him. As she took his hand, she felt something cool and hard and she glanced down to see that King had numerous thick, heavy silver rings. Idly and briefly, she wondered if they doubled as knuckle-dusters, decided that she didn’t really want to know. “I’m Jo.”

Then, a man stepped out into the dying light. He was a mountain of muscle, dressed in pitch-black combat leathers. But it was his eyes that stopped my heart from beating. They weren't red like the guards’, and they were nothing like Kaelen’s or like anything i’ve ever seen before. They were a lethal, molten, glowing gold. The King. The Lycan King himself!! He didn't look at Kaelen who was now stationed far away. He didn't look at the terrified, silent pack behind.

"That's going to get you killed." "Being an optimist is the only reason you’re still breathing," Julian retorted, pushing open the heavy oak doors to the King’s private chambers. The scene inside was pure nightmare. The King sat on a chair of twisted iron, his frame gaunt, his robes hanging off him like funeral shrouds. His eyes were wide, staring at a point in space that didn't exist for anyone else. Around him, the air shimmered with an oily, translucent film—the literal manifestation of the Black Spring’s influence.