The Torn Prince Thirteen Ghosts Novels & Stories

Illarion Black was now sitting opposite Queen Minerva. They looked at each other vengefully. The Queen's blue Netra flashed wide as if she wanted to kill the young man in front of her. The Black Prince replied with a gaze no less sharp and cold than his black bead as dark as night. It is no longer an open secret that the Black Prince hates the Queen. This is based on the dark story of the Prince's past, which is directly related to the Queen.

Now… she wouldn't be able to scream anymore; let alone talk. He let the older guard pick her lifeless body while he roamed his eyes around before landing on the boy in front of him. His eyes sparkled; getting nervous. Despite being a year older than the boy with a polished bare back, the youngest recruit couldn't get the confidence to talk to, now, the frustrated boy; Prince Sebastian. "Dammit!" The Prince hissed in annoyance. He was just starting and then… 'Urgh! Now what should I do!' Sebastian wanted to grip his hair but knowing there was someone else beside him, he didn't act. Sweat rolled down his body as he blazed in heat; his skin was bright red and veins popped on his hands, neck, fo

Tobin lifted Bailey's face, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. Jayce felt an icy chill sweep through him. If someone had known Tobin would come to the birch grove, then they knew more about the Princes and their proclivities than he liked. "What did the goblin have to say?" Bailey lifted her face, her eyes flashing with ire. "He said Annwn would rise. That Arawn was coming." She shook her head. "I'm not even sure who that is, or what." Tobin cursed vehemently, jerking away from Bailey and rolling onto his feet. He stumbled and barely caught himself before he collapsed. Beckett's face was grim and Jayce knew he wore a similar expression. "What? Who is Arawn?"

Beside her, standing like a storm contained in human skin, was the so-called missing prince. You’d expect a man like him to look similar to the Queen or the King. Same silver hair, perhaps. A glimmer of nobility. But no. He looked… wrong. Hair black as ink. Eyes so pale they looked almost silver. And a scar over his left brow that pulsed faintly with purple mana veins. “I thought the Queen had only two children,” I whispered under my breath. Alaric’s jaw clenched. “She does. Or… she did. The youngest prince vanished ten years ago. Rift attack. Everyone assumed he died.”

Further down, near the back stairs, two younger maids carry folded linens between them, pretending not to listen but leaning ever so slightly toward the sound. By the time the whispers reach the kitchen, they’re no longer careful. A pot clangs against a counter as one of the cooks shakes her head, muttering to the butcher’s boy. “I’m telling you, cursed blood brings nothing but death. Remember what happened to the Luna of Hanbow Pack, they said was touched by dark magic? Gone within a year. Looks like this happened to the prince because of the Luna's connection with dark magic.” The butcher’s boy makes a face but doesn’t argue. The guards in the hall outside overhear, exchanging uneasy glanc

Alex added, he couldn't believe what he is hearing, people from the ghost realm, how ridiculous and cunning can that prince Tlyer be. "So what is the name of this ingredient.." "Ghost ban flower" "What!" Everybody in the room exclaimed except Catori, she had suspected it to be like that; she thought about their experience in the vampire kingdom, they did not go through hell as she had expected, rather they let them go so easily even after stealing the eye of the earth from them; one should know that what the vampires hate the most is someone stealing from them, they believe in the saying: if you want something, go get it in front of the person, not sneaking around and going behind one's back

“But I…am actually not around other people that often.” “Really?” I ask, my eyes going wider as I cross my arms, intrigued. He nods. “I spend a lot of time with ghosts. My servants are ghosts, my mother is a ghost. It’s…fine, there’s nothing bad about it, but they’re certainly not as…alive and vivacious as people are. Not even as alive as Anton is,” he says, lifting his chin towards my room. “Oh,” I say, glancing back to the room too, pity racing through me. But then I look back at the Prince, not really understanding where this is going. “So, do you not have any friends?”

Blood Enchanters. The sun is rising, casting a stunning hue throughout the room, and I was just reading the biography written by Cortez Santiago Escarra’s great-grandson, Estephan. It’s hard to read at times. The words faded at times, but it was a compilation of his great-grandfather’s life. And as it progressed, it became manic and incoherent. He spoke of his own experience, how he was being driven mad. But the first half was clear. It records how the Djinn was summoned, and made the events that led up to what would happen in England fourteen years ago make more sense.

Jason looked genuinely puzzled. Avoiding his gaze, Liora explained, "We don't do that. We call male ghosts 'dark souls' and female ones 'phantom queens'. And guess what? You've got yourself a phantom queen right beside you. Looks about 20, long hair, and, oh, bleeding from the wrists." Jason's face went through a sudden transformation. "Seriously, Liora? Are we playing games now?" Liora rolled her eyes, sizing up Jason like he was the slowest kid in class. "Fine, let me break it down. Why do you go visit your dead relatives' graves?"

"You see I must reclaim my missing son and I've got important business to attend to." "The witches took him to their manor like they do all the fancy men they like....most don't come back...others come back but they are not like they were before..." added another of the urchins, a redhead with visible freckles. "They must have liked him so they kept him, the other men were not so lucky...they came out crazed and scared all the time." added another brown-haired boy with a tattered blue scarf around his neck. Alfred sighed.