The Night Prince Lauren Palphreyman Novels & Stories

The way the room itself seems to make sense around him. She swallows. Recognition hits like a punch to the chest. Theon. The Prince of NorthHill. The Lycan Prince. Her stomach tightens. Everyone knows about the Lycans of NorthHill. They’re more than wolves. Older. Stronger. Unforgiving. The only royal bloodline left untouched by treaty or alliance. They rule their territory without interference, without mercy. And she’s in NorthHill. His home. In his bed. Bandaged. Weak. Marked.

I whispered. A few moments later, a notification popped up on my phone. A new post from Serena. The picture was of a room blanketed in jewels—rubies, sapphires, emeralds, piled up like small mountains. The caption read: 【Just said I was in a bad mood, and he sent all this. So dramatic! Good morning, my Prince of the Night. 】 The comments were a flood of envious praise. I put my phone down. I couldn't produce a single tear.

Princess Victoria Point of View I did not sleep last night. Not after reading that letter. It rests on my bedside table, folded neatly but heavy with the weight of everything it revealed. I have read it more times than I can count, hoping that the words would somehow rearrange themselves into a misunderstanding, a prank, anything other than the truth. Prince George is a vampire. Not a rumor. Not a threat hiding in the woods. A reality I am now entangled in. The man I am set to marry is the son of a Queen who died to birth a cursed legacy.

He held it in his hands. A purple light shone from the sword, it shone so bright that it's radiance filled the whole room and almost blinded Fife and Elena. They had to shield their eyes with their hands. Gad and the shadow man knelt down and bowed to Theodore. "My prince, welcome home" the shadow man said. "huh?" Fife and Elena's eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "I am a prince?" Theodore asked hesitantly. "yes you are, you are our prince"

"Not yet, Princess. But I intend to." The grand doors to the banquet hall swung open before us, revealing the glittering assembly of two royal courts. All eyes turned to us, Prince Thorne Silvercliff, the Alpha heir of the most powerful werewolf kingdom, and me, Princess Arianthe Moonvale, the wolfless disgrace, walking in together as if we belonged at each other's side. And somewhere deep inside me, in the secret place where I'd long ago buried all hope, something wild and ancient stirred, stretched, and began to wake.

He was a young man, his looks were okay, it was one that Fiona would call handsome. "Who are you?" I asked without asking him to sit. He bowed slightly. "Good morning Lycan King." He began, "May your reign be long." He added without taking his seat. "I asked you a question." I saif brushing off his greeting. "I am Aaron, the newly appointed Alpha of the Nightfall pack, I am blessed by the goddess to have your sister, Princess Fiona as my mate." He said with his face down. I could tell he wasn't facing the ground because he was intimidated by me, but he was quite an humble kid.

She couldn’t help herself but look at the one thing that managed to hunt her dreams last night; and there he was, riding in his black stallion, wearing his princely wardrobe. Just beside Ruen’s stallion were Lady Faye and Lord Jared on their own horses positioned on each side of the prince. They were apparently lining up after a brigade of troops with the generals on command, and also accompanying them was Lord Cain on his general suit. Despite being busy, Lady Faye somehow managed to visit the princess last night, but she was already asleep. It seemed the news of her leaving has come to Lady Faye’s attention, obviously, by Prince Ruen’s doing. Then at midnight, Lianne surely noticed a certa

".... Our Guest of honor is none other than the Alpha of Nightfall Pack, Alpha Asher Vador— the betrothed of our dear princess.." I couldn't help but roll my eyes in disgust as I looked up at the direction he was sitting as the crowd went wild with their claps and screams. "Bloody fool," I whispered underneath my breath. "... And our special guest of honor is none other than the Prince of Lycans—the number one bachelor of the lore who is now taken... Sorry, ladies... He is Prince Dante Dreymon." The cheers raged around the arena as everyone screamed and clapped at the mention of Dante's name. I didn't want to look, but I just had to look at him— and damn, he was so devilishly handsome.

When the heavy oak doors of the sanctuary swing open, a collective gasp ripples through the crowd. Vampire King Magnus Nightbane and Queen Evelina stand at the altar, their pale, aristocratic faces instantly hardening into masks of pure rage the moment their red eyes lock onto me. The Ashfang pack has pulled a bait-and-switch at the altar. They brought a tiny, half-breed Psi werewolf instead of the pristine Alpha female they were promised. The insult to their royal bloodline is lethal. At the very end of the long, velvet carpet sits Prince Cassius Nightbane.

And he switched on the lights immediately. There it was... There were two people in their, knives in their hands. His lips lifted up when they turned towards him,pointing the knives at him. "Want some game?" He asked them with raised brows. The men began trembling. Why was it him? Were they not told that the girl was in there and that the prince would never get out of his room past midnight? "Attack!" One of them said and rushed towards Deagan. But the next moment, before he enemy knew what was happening,Deagan snatched the phone from him,knocking him to the ground.