The Mans Decree Novels & Stories

And far away, in the Stone Hall, the Council reached a verdict that would not be delivered with force… …but with something far more devastating. A decree. And a name. This ends with the seal pressing into wax. And Selene, miles away, suddenly feeling it. Like a chain tightening.

Every window bore the haunting glare of the blood moon, its crimson light painting the ancient maps and scrolls spread across the table. “We must act before the Council enforces the Blood Moon Decree,” growled Commander Roan, his voice low but filled with urgency. “You know what that means for her.” Lucien’s eyes flickered dangerously. “I know.” The Decree had been buried in legend—a cruel law that demanded the immediate execution of any forbidden mate bond forged outside the Council's approval. And now, thanks to Cyrus’s betrayal, the Council had been informed that Lucien’s fated mate was not the High Council’s chosen but a common she-wolf from a fallen bloodline.

After I sat down, the constituents followed, and so as Amarantha. "The Royal Decree will be announced in this hour. An assembly of royal council members to witness the formality of the Alpha King's decision whether to banish and halt Lady Amarantha Randall of her title as the Luna of Prima Tierra Pack or not. The formal meeting has now begun!" an announcer started to utter. He was located at the farthest left corner of the hall. He was reading a passage of the Royal Decree I wrote last night. "The Luna is requested to stand up while I read the royal decree," the announcer added.

"My daughter will not be sacrificed to that... that thing." Gasps echoed through the hall. Elder Maltheus's eyes narrowed, his fingers tightening on the arm of his chair until the wood creaked in protest. "To defy the crown's ancient decree is to court treason," he warned, his tone low and laced with the chill of finality. "The pact binds us all—our survival hinges on it."

I commanded firmly. Palmer flinched, silently contemplating before nodding. He scooped me up in his arms and started using his wolf limbs to jump from tree to tree. I felt chills when I felt the breeze charming me, but I ignored it and proceeded to see that person. Damn it... Royal decree? Being declared a royal decree had the same power effect as the royal seal. It could mean that no one could deny nor refuse whatever the Alpha King cited the decree. Failing to comply could lead to treason.

Weakness had no place in this garden anymore. So I ripped his hand away. "You think you’re righteous?" I hissed. "You think handing my enemies the blade to slit my throat makes you noble?" "I think someone has to stop you before the empire eats you alive." "Then you’re not just a traitor. You’re a fool." He straightened. Then reached into his coat and pulled out a velvet-wrapped scroll. My blood turned to ice. The Crown Decree. The original charter. The one that proved the Montrose line only held power if recognized by the majority of the noble council.

" Then it was my turn. After hours spent thinking about my first decree, I had the perfect one. I let the tension in the room build up as I took the stage. Looking right at Nate, I said, "There will be mandatory quality inspections for all manufacturing companies in the territory. Companies who don't pass the inspection will have their licenses revoked and will also pay compensation to the victims of their fraud." I paused again for effect. "That is my decree." People clapped. And cheered. Everyone except Nate. Nate first went white, then purple with rage. He looked like he was going to explode any minute now. That was exactly why I had made this decree. I knew it was going to affect him mor

The title was written in bold letters on the first page: Decree 44-A -The Purge of the Shadowborn. Kol flitted his eyes along the lines and each word was like a knife thrust deeper than the one before. “To all true packs who fly the flag of the Lannister Dominion: The Shadowborn taint shall be cleansed away completely. No wolf bearing the mark may be spared, neither adult, child, nor mate. The blood of the cursed shall not mix with the blood of our line.” Kol’s breath hitched. The decree was dated forty-three years ago. His father’s seal stamped at the bottom. And beneath it, a smaller signature, Elias Thorne, Commander of Enforcement.

Markus roared, starting to march towards Deacon angrily, as Markus approached, Deacon dropped to his knees, faced the floor and said. “Please my lords, I merely wished to prevent another suicide, it is the coward’s way out, and I wished for them to pay the price according to the law for their transgressions, please forgive me.” “For acting without my authority, Deacon, I order you present yourself to the dungeons to receive 100 lashes, I want proof of punishment, and do not leave until all 100 have been dealt, now go!” Rector stood and roared, which caused everyone to jolt a little at the sheer impact his voice had.

“Don’t dress it up. This is not an offer — it is a fucking clear-cut power decision. And when you say ‘there is no coercion,’ you know damn well there is, because you are the king and I am a servant who just got back on my feet, shielded by your rules — but that protection is not meant to be shoved into your pocket whenever you feel like it.” “Enough,” he snapped. His voice hardened, though he did not raise it much; still, every word cut with precision. “Do not explain the order of my own household to me. I signed the decree that says ‘NO WOMEN ARE TO BE LOCKED UP,’ and I sent that idiot guard to the pillar of shame for raising a foot at you, and I kept you alive when they left you on the st