Uncrowned Kings Mga Nobela at Kwento

Heaving a sigh, I turn around again and stare at the sky. “Is the queen of Solar looking for the amulet?” I asked again. “Yes, it’s confirmed. It seems a lot of the clans are allies with her,” Charles explained. “Very well, she wants to take my throne. Let’s see how capable she can be,” I said through gritted teeth. I’m Nikolas, King of the Kingdom of Ciar. A ruthless king, hated by most. I’m 148 years old, and I have been mateless. My family? They all died long ago.

Damon drifts toward center ice and stops at the logo. I follow. For a moment, we stand where the game began. Where so much between us almost ended. “Funny,” he says. “All that fighting over who gets the crown.” “And?” He looks at me fully. “There was only ever one.” The words hang there. Not competitive. Not sharp. Certain. Only one crown. And it doesn’t belong to one king. The arena lights dim slightly as the crew prepares to clean up. I feel his hand brush mine. Not by accident.

“We were one soul. Until you severed us. You, the golden child. Me, the shadow. They called me a curse.” Cradle’s throat went dry. “You’re the side of him they tried to bury.” He laughed. “No. I’m the side they needed—but feared too much to use.” Kael stepped closer. “Why now? Why rise after all this time?” The Crownless King tilted his head, and every mirror in the room flickered—each one showing a different version of Kael. One crowned in blood. One kneeling before a burning palace. One kissing Cradle while the world burned around them.

In each of their homes, a creature watched from their windows. This was an unusual time. Kings were treated less than Counts. The Kings were crowned as mortals. They lead, they judge, they make the decisions. The Counts were awakened as immortals. They watch. They devour. They live for entertainment. And one can destroy a nation. The King of Chesterfawn was the ruler of the continent. He conquered cities and his opponent with the hilt of his mighty sword, forged by the best of blacksmiths. He was young and unstoppable.

With the death of the previous king, the kingdom was in need of a leader who could embody the principles of love, wisdom, and justice. Roberick, a nobleman deeply respected throughout the realm, emerged as the perfect candidate. He had demonstrated unwavering dedication to the welfare of the people, a profound sense of fairness, and an undeniable love for the kingdom and its citizens. His vision for Avondale was one of equity, where the principles of love, wisdom, and justice would guide his rule. In the grand square of the kingdom's capital, Roberick stood before the people, a figure of hope and promise. Dressed in regal attire, he was crowned as the new ruler. The air was filled with antic

Cedric Holloway, the Prime Minister, inclined his head, the rest of the room following his lead. “Your Majesty, the kingdom still has no heir. You have no mate. It has been three years since the political mating ended.” “I'm aware of how long it's been, Cedric.” Brayden replied. “You don’t need to remind me whenever we meet.” “Then you're aware of what that means for the Crownfang Pack.” Roland Ironhart, the Minister of Defense and Military Affairs spoke up. “Every pack within our borders watches this throne for weakness. An unmated King with no successor is exactly that. Even the people of our Pack are worried.”

A man was about to take a step when a strong wind blocked her, and blew her away. "Take step and you'll taste the death." He said, royal blood is not normal like any other elementias. They're strong and more powerful, the first king of their bloodline isn't from a royal family but it manages to be a king because of its strength. Using his strength and power alone, he defeated the royals and became king on his own. Royals since they were born, they're power has already awakened. And at a young age, they already master their elemental power and train hard to surpass their own capabilities. And also their eyes, they have extravagant eyes that will make you kneel in an instant.

Althea fought her way back to Argos for Lysandros and helped him reclaim the throne, only to find herself trapped in the enemy kingdom of Thrace, wearing a slave's collar for three full years. Through three years of mortal danger, being dragged behind chariots, and bone-chilling winters, Althea survived on a single conviction: her betrothed, Lysandros, would come to rescue her. But when she finally set foot in the royal city again, what awaited her was not an embrace. It was a heavy golden laurel crown pressed against her brow, the Sacred Flame seal clutched in another woman's hand, and a royal heir growing in that woman's womb. She clung to one last hope: perhaps they had cast her aside onl

Opened the door. Inside was a box. Inside the box was a photograph. A photograph of two babies. Born six hours apart. Both crying. Both red-faced and wrinkled and impossibly small. Both Catalinas. Rose, on the left. Aria, on the right. Catalina had given one baby up for adoption and kept the identity of the other baby a secret from the world for thirty one years, and she had watched them both, at a distance, live lives that had not turned out the way she had promised herself they would.

Lady Queen-bee was to be send off to the king of this kingdom as an offering of loyalty of the Ronales household towards the king, but she was not a willing individual in this ordeal. Rumor had it that the 27th king of this kingdom was an evil heartless ugly man who slaughtered without means or mercy. He was known as the epitome of cruelty and wouldn't even hesitate to kill the nobles if need be. He was even rumored to kill his many children just because he hates kids(He's not even married, I have no idea how he has got children. Don't ask me, maybe they were all his illegitimate children). Plus, he was the most grotesque man anyone had ever laid their eyes upon. Burnt scars all over his fac