The King Novels & Stories

Without another word, he turned and hurried off to fulfill King Lucian's command. King Lucian stood before the large doors of the throne hall, his expression solemn. The guards stationed on either side of the entrance immediately recognized their monarch and swung the massive doors open without delay. As Lucian stepped inside, he held his head high, exuding the regal bearing expected of a king. Yet, beneath his composed exterior, his heart was heavy with sorrow and regret.

I spit, "especially in my case." He shakes his head. Unimpressed. "I do not make threats. Only statements." "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He quirks a brow. The king. Suddenly, it's as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on me. "The king," I gasp, eyes wide. "You're the king." Two months. Assassination. The ground slips from beneath me. How could I have forgotten?

Where the hell was I? I tried to think of what I knew about the new king but lost it. I only knew about the king before I was born. The king, Alfred, had ruled for what felt like an eternity. Decades before I was born, he had ascended to the throne, and now, well into his nineties, he continued to reign. Yet, he was a distant figure, rarely venturing to our part of the Pack. I had never seen him, and even my father, it was rumoured, had only fleeting encounters. Tales whispered of a fading mind, a king growing old and weary.

"My name is Beta Jax Clyde. I am the King's right hand." "It's nice to meet you, sir," she said as she finally dragged her eyes up, in awe of his beauty as well. While she had been distracted by the King as soon as she walked in, the Beta blocking her view of him forced her to take in how attractive he is. She didn't even realize that she was still holding his hand, though no longer shaking it, until the King let out a soft growl. Beta Jax cleared his throat, turning to gesture to the man, who was now sitting rigid in his chair. "This is the Lycan King, Alpha Kenzo."

His choice. I forced my chin up. The crown at my temple felt heavier than usual. My heartbeat was a secret I tried to bury beneath the music. At the far end of the hall, upon the high dais, he sat. Kael. The King. Every inch of him looked carved in shadow and gold. He wore no crown tonight, only a simple black tunic trimmed in crimson, the fabric drawn tight across his chest. His gaze found mine before I had even reached the second pillar. He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to.

I folded my arms, trying to steady myself, heart hammering as his eyes flicked toward me just as the guard stepped back. “Ma’am, let’s go. The boss has arrived,” the guard said, calm but firm. My knees trembled as I lifted my gaze. “Who… who is he? Is he…?” I whispered, dread coiling tight in my chest, when suddenly his height felt strangely familiar. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Evan Grant, our king,” the guard replied. WHAT! This is the evil I’ve been defying? Slowly, I turned toward the car he had stepped out of, the same black shade and model that had vanished into the darkness that night.

Spears dipped low. "How dare King Dave step into my territory?" the king roared, his voice vibrating through the water. "Has he forgotten who owns this sea? Abel, Dove, Ruff— and you standing there behind Dove looking like an idiot, what's your name?" Everyone turned their heads slightly to see who the king was talking to. Silence fell, heavy and sharp. A man in his forties, malnourished with green eyes and red curls, scrambled forward and dropped to his knees three feet from the king. His voice was rough but familiar.

Kael stood several feet away. He looked younger. Maybe twelve. A child. Blood covered his shirt. A man stood behind him. Tall. Powerful. His eyes were completely black. I knew him without being told. The First King. He placed a hand on young Kael's shoulder. "You are mine." Young Kael shook his head. "No." The king smiled. "You will carry my blood." "I don't want it." "You don't get to choose." Young Kael tried to run. The king caught him.

The silence that followed was absolute. Slowly, Karlo turned around. The expression on his face wasn't anger, it was a completely blank, hollow, void of pure, unadulterated carnage. The ruthless king who had built an empire on blood had finally revealed his single, fatal weakness to the world. He had tried to hide his little bird, but the hunters had smelled the gold on her gown.

No one had ever dared to talk back to him like this. I tilted my head up, looking straight into his glowing golden eyes. I didn't care about his power. I didn't care about his pack, his throne, or his dangerous wolf. In that moment, all I saw was a cruel, heartless monster standing before me. "You think you are a king?" I spat out, every word heavy with raw, unfiltered disgust. "You are nothing but a coward hiding behind your throne. You look down on my people, but you are colder and nastier than anyone in the Hollow."