The Skull King Novels & Stories

Now they run the risk of starving through the winter. "Yes. He has performed the final shift... While Alpha Rupert Kincaid tortured us it seemed he also tortured Atticus into becoming the next King," Karina says loudly and we turn to stare at her in shock. A deep red blush is stinging her cheeks as she stares at the crowd with open defiance and we realize she is defending us. She knows the pack hates us. She knows they will demand justice and she is throwing out the fact we have become King. Only someone who has survived horrible torment can become King. She is guilting them into accepting us.

“The Skull King.” The restaurant was empty when we walked inside, fully booked out for this meeting. I wasn’t sure if my father was responsible for that or the Skull King. I’d heard of the Skull King but never met him. He was the unofficial prime minister of the country, pulling the strings of the puppets in government, taking tariffs on all illegal commodities shipped through the country as payment for his services. He had his hand in other industries too, from what I understood. His men were positioned throughout the restaurant, standing in the dark corners and sitting at empty tables, all armed

“I don’t think he’ll do that.” “Then you don’t know him very well,” Dirk said. “You have no idea who this man really is. He’s the Skull King. He runs this country in plain sight. He owns the police, the prisons, and all the criminals. This guy has his thumb pressed into everyone.” With a title like that, I didn’t doubt he was a scary man. But I wasn’t a criminal or an enemy. I was just a woman. “I’m just trying to be optimistic.”

Her father, the king, made attempt to lay her to rest in secret but after sunrise the next day when little her had ventured to her mother's grave to send her flowers, her mother had dug her wat out if the grace, now one if the hideous creatures, a blood suckers. "Look!" Her eyes snapped open and fixated itself on the grave. "It's moving, it's moving!"

"Sir, are you sure you want to hear it here? It's about—" "Spit it out!" Mitch barked. Fel jumped. The princess gasped. The Torus guy tensed. The assistants scribbled more notes in their notepad. "The King has succumbed to his injuries, sir," the man blurted out.

The king's concubine, the one who had plotted against the saint sent by God, was the one who would not only heal the king's son but also win his heart and make him good again, as well as the cause of his death. Calisto seemed annoyed as his arms released me, and sat on the bed. "They need your king to deal with something so idiotic? What the hell are the princes good for?" He was bothered, but my eyes were busy taking in his sculpted body, every feature of his face. No matter how many fanatics I had seen or how many times I had imagined it, I would never come close to the true beauty of Calisto. His long, black hair cascaded down his back in waves and tangles, thanks to what we had done earl

We turned to see Sköll standing on the platform. "I have an announcement. Your true north king is dead and he has informed me that another has taken his place. Rune's shell is now containing the spectral of Noah Brinx. My son told me he is knowledgeable of all the traditions and Rune also informed me that he will be a fantastic king. I just felt it necessary for you all to be made aware," he said sternly as his eyes bore into ours. I glanced up at Noah and he was pissed. He threw the darts that were in his hand against the board popping most of them and strode toward the Lycan God. The people around us started to gasp and murmurs started. Noah ran up the platform to confront Sköll. I watche

She was so distracted by all these wondrous things that she didn’t notice that they’d turned into a bigger room where many Crow soldiers were lined up in. It was only when she noticed a large throne made up of skulls and bones that she snap out of her stupor. Lounging in the throne like he was bored and had better places to be was the King of Crows himself. His fair skin stood out against his pitch-black hair. His dark eyes barely glanced over Rebecca before he waved his hand. “This is what you’ve disturbed my sleep for?”

With a completely ruthless, terrifyingly brute force, he violently slammed the heavy, solid fiberglass directly against the thick, rusted iron buckle violently securing the heavy leather straps at the absolute back of his heavily bruised skull. The raw, white-hot agony violently radiating completely from his severely fractured left arm was entirely blinding, but he aggressively slammed it completely against the sharp iron buckle again. And again. And again. The heavy, dark leather aggressively began to violently fray. He would completely, violently tear his own entirely shattered skull completely apart if he explicitly had to, but he absolutely refused to aggressively die in Kiara Rathore's