The Queen They Buried Novels & Stories

Third Person's POV Harper had her butler pick out a brand-new gown for Queenie's cold body. She even went to the shop where Queenie used to sell her work and bought two of the protective rune necklaces Queenie had made herself. "She'll be happy to see the Moon Goddess wearing her own creations," Harper said softly. The death of a rejected female was like a pebble tossed into a deep lake—a tiny ripple, and then the city moved on and forgot. Only the local pups started singing a nursery rhyme about how the Independent Center stepped up to bury Queenie, mocking her mate and her brother in the lyrics.

“Go now. I cannot help yeh. Dere be things I not dare cross.” Kofi’s voice was steady, though a muscle jumped in his jaw. “So we came for nothing?” Her breathing slowed, though her shoulders shook. She leaned forward, whispering as if the swamp itself might be listening. “Maybe nothin’… maybe somethin’ worse. Dere be one chance, one hope, if she still want it. A grave, deep in dese swamps. A queen buried wid power. A voodoo queen. If she want to be dug, if she want to be found. But danger walk wid de dead. Some say dey not rest easy. Some say de dead walk in de swamps.”

her words sparked something in me. "Golden Queen, thats what you said at the coronation. I don't understand how can I be the Golden queen if she died. Why is she buried here and what does any of this have to do with what just happened back there?" Questions flowing out of me like an uncontrollable faucet.

“The bond survives.” Cold silence spread across the chamber. The queen stepped down from the throne slowly, shadow and silver trailing around her form like echoes of another age. “The throne has awakened,” she said quietly. Her gaze shifted toward the burning city above us. “And now the kingdom must choose whether it will repeat history…” The buried city beneath the Academy trembled violently. The gate began opening wider. Silver light exploded upward through the ruins. And the queen finished softly: “…or survive it.”

I sat with it one evening in my own quarters, working back through the timeline as methodically as I would have approached any formal investigation, forcing myself to set aside my old assumptions and simply examine the accumulated evidence as it actually existed rather than as I'd originally chosen to interpret it. The archive room incident. Her genuine, unperformed terror, witnessed directly by a King who'd subsequently taken a personal, sustained interest in her welfare that had only deepened over the following months rather than fading into ordinary diplomatic courtesy. The forged letter, ultimately traced back to Selene rather than to any genuine scheme of Elira's own making. The withdra

Did they think I had forgiven them? When my mum died it was this same Queen mother that order for her to not be giving a befitting burial saying she wasn't worth it, According to her statement she said my mum didn't help the pack in anyway nor did she provide a male child for the Alpha that she doesn't deserve a grand burial. She was buried more like an ordinary person, like a curse they were trying to get rid off quickly. There was no party, no expensive caskets, They just did her in the most sorrowful way ever.

"Now, we stop hiding in the 'Void Zones,' Elias. We are the ones who draw the maps. We are the ones who decide where the boundaries lie." She turned to him, her eyes softening as she reached out to trace the brand on his chest. "Four hundred years was a long time to wait. I think it’s time we enjoyed the eternity I bought us." Elias pulled her into a possessive, crushing embrace, his fangs grazing the pulse of her neck—not as a predator, but as a king marking his queen. The shadows of London stirred, acknowledging their new masters. The fire of 1612 was finally out. The cold, modern reality was theirs to command.

"And you can thank Queen Abigail for the graveyard you left behind at the gate." "Abigail?" Vane’s jaw went completely tight, his hand dropping to the hilt of his short sword as his men circled the shelf, their crossbows notched and aimed at my throat. "The Queen died in the first year of the siege. Her bones are in the lower vault with the rest of the lineage."

Questions remained unanswered. Across Valdoria, few remembered Lana Marcone as she truly was. They remembered only the story that endured. The Queen who betrayed her King.

Even Rose had disappeared at some point. I turned back to my coffee trying to ignore him but I could feel his eyes on me. They were burning a hole into the back of my head but I refused to turn back around. His scent was invading my senses in all the wrong ways. My fucking libido was doing summersaults but I tamed her down.