They Crowned My Novels & Stories

Thankfully, I didn’t get the chance to say any of that out loud as the next event started almost immediately. One of the elders brought the Queen’s crown and handed it over to Bernardo who gently placed it on my head and just like that, I became the official queen of the Crimson Moon. The cheers that erupted from outside after the crown was placed on my head warmed my heart. It showed that the people were in support of me.

For a second, she wondered if she had destroyed everything. The Moretti boss stared at her and then laughed like he was delighted. He told Damien that his bride had teeth. Then he walked away, still laughing. Damien leaned down and asked if she had really threatened one of the most powerful men on the East Coast at her own wedding. Elena said she probably had. His smile looked conflicted, like he was proud and concerned at the same time. Vincent was watching from across the room. When their eyes met, he raised his glass in a gesture that looked like approval. Damien said his father had just given her his blessing, which was more than most people ever received.

Wade, seated in a wheelchair, was wheeled out. I stood by him, clad in black with lips painted a fierce red. My high heels crushed rose petals beneath, like a harbinger of doom. "Elena…" Rosa went ghostly white, gripping Marco's sleeve, shaking like a leaf. Marco tried to keep his cool, bellowing. "Elena! This is my wedding day! Are you trying to stage a coup right now?" I let out a soft laugh and clapped my hands. Four guards hoisted a massive golden broadsword into view.

I shifted, barely, and whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “Where am I…” “You passed out,” Dante said, his voice low and coaxing. “I brought you back to your room.” How convenient of him to leave out the part where his beloved wife drugged me and tried to kill me. “Did everyone vote yet?” I asked. Dante dragged a chair closer to the bed. “Harper, will you vote for me? I’m just as capable as Dante—better, even. I have real potential. And I promise this: once I’m elected Don, you’ll remain the Donna of the Moretti. Every right, every privilege—you’ll keep them all.”

he started before I cut him off. “Maybe you should let me handle things and stop trying to rule through me. Your tenure has ended. Maybe you should give me a chance to do some actual work. The council would never trust in me, nor will the people if you keep trying to act like you’re still in charge.” I fired back, and he only scoffed. “You’re not fit enough to rule the realm. You think if I have other options, I would pick you as my heir?” he scoffed, and I chuckled drily. At least he had the balls to say it to my face, finally.

Harlow, you've got family calling. Downstairs, there he was, Bennett, all dapper in a tailor-made suit, clutching a bouquet like some twisted Romeo. Behind me, my father sat in his wheelchair, his hospital attire hidden beneath a sharp, custom-made suit, his hair perfectly combed. He called out to the crowd, "This is my daughter, the Harlow family's Principessa. Today's her birthday, and her fiancé, the Marshall family's head honcho, is here to whisk her away!"

He fucked her like she was the last thing he’d ever hold, hands bruising, mouth worshipping and wrecking her in the same breath. When they were done, they didn’t separate. The alarms screamed, the Tower shook, but there was only the two of them—tangled, marked, indivisible. Domenik pressed his forehead to hers. “There’s only ever been one crown in this city.” Eirwen smiled, savage and true. “And it’s ours.” Footsteps hammered down the corridor. Wolves, survivors, or worse. Domenik picked up his gun, handed her the drive. “We finish this together.”

Seraphine’s hands never smelt of salt. When Prince Corin was born, bells rang before the afterbirth cooled. Three days later, my father signed the decree that stripped me of my right and placed the crown’s promise on a child who could not yet hold up his own head. I watched the ink dry in the candlelight. It looked like blood aging into brown. “Riley,” he said, not meeting my eyes, “this will steady the realm.” I had been steady. I had been ready. I had been first. None of that mattered against a name written beside “male” in the book of law that Seraphine had already opened for him.

She was playing for the crown, the one they had buried her for. "Alaric," she whispered to the empty room. "I hope you enjoyed your peace. Because I’m coming for everything."

I stared at him for a second, then took it slowly, already annoyed because if this was another attempt at convincing me of this nonsense, I was about to lose whatever patience I had left. Then I looked at the screen. And just like that, everything in my head went completely still. The headline was bold. Too bold and looks too real. Alexandra Fisher Hale the queen of the business world is pregnant and to be married to Jacob Grey. I blinked. Once. Twice. Then I looked up at Dada. “What the actual fuck?” The words came out before I could even stop them, because at this point, manners were the least of my concerns. Because what?