Valerian The Cruel Prince Novels & Stories

Lycans. In the middle of them walked King Valerius. I knew he was the King before anyone said a word. He was easily a head taller than the others. His hair was the color of winter frost, cut short and messy. He had ice-blue eyes that looked right through you, and a jagged scar ran from his left temple down to his jawline, cutting through his eyebrow. He didn't look like a king in a storybook. He looked like a killer who had stolen a crown.

"You want to pit a trained killer against a woman you’ve been calling a fragile, pathetic human for months?" "If she’s as special as you say, it shouldn't be an issue," Vane retorted. He snapped his fingers, and from the side shadows, Valerius stepped out. Valerius was huge. He was like seven feet of solid, vampiric muscle, covered in scars and holding a sword that looked like it was made from black glass. He didn't look at me like I was a person; he looked at me like a target. He walked into the center of the room, the other nobles clearing out of the way like they were afraid of catching his shadow.

Elena said. The king laughed. "even if he comes, it is too late. The prison has already been opened." "What did he do to you?" Elena asked Darla. "He injured my palm and made me drip my blood inside the pit" Darla replied. Elena glared at the king. "glare all you want. The spirits are on their way here and they are very angry" the king said. Elena drew her sword. "then I will kill you before they come"

She was not expecting this. "What?" she gasped with shock. Everyone claims that the Raven prince is a cruel man and very dangerous. He changes women as quickly as he changes his clothes. But with Valerie, he is different. For the first time, Liliana began to think. 'What is going on between these two? Oh dear, I just hope that this doesn't end in a catastrophe ' she prayed.

"So technically you are telling me to befriend someone you just described as Lucifer himself? Are you nuts?" "Princess Vala, your father is related to Lucifer himself, they are brothers. You are related to Lucifer so that makes you and Ruthless equal probably in terms of powers and strength." Zelik said to her. Vala laughed out a little, "Are you sure you are okay, I am not that strong, the only thing I can boost off is my sharp brain and these chains around me, I don't have any special kind of power." She told him. "You are mistaken Princess Vala. The clothes you're wearing, who gave them to you?"

“None of us predicted this. My husband, the King, was deceived as well by Lady Margaret. She and her son are currently being punished for their crimes. Rest assured, Princess Loretta is well taken care of. She will wake as soon as she receives blood from her own kind…that is…you.” The Vampire Prince shot to his feet instantly, chair scraping violently. “This is nonsense!” he snarled, voice dripping venom. “An insult to our entire bloodline! These dogs have been stepping on our necks long enough! My sister has been unconscious for over a week and they’ve been hiding it from us like cowards?” He opened his mouth to hurl more poison, but King Valerian raised one finger. Two of his guards moved

“I am sorry if you don’t like violence. If it scares you, my sweet. But I won’t apologize for my choice to protect you… or anyone I care about, in my own way.” “But now people will shame you because you are a Prince and you fought them because of me.” I smiled at her frowning face. “You forgot an important detail, Valeria. I am a Prince of Azmia, I would like to see them try to shame me.” She sighed, mumbling, “So arrogant.” I eyed the dark red streaks of her hair. “You would catch cold with your hair damp. Here, let me pat them dry for you.” Before Valeria could protest, I stood up to bring another clean towel. I didn’t want her to get sick.

Valir still has to find the cause of Vale's death, as a cousin who is very close to him, he does not accept Vale's death without a cause. Valir remembered the past with Vale, they both promised to become noble mages and work for the kingdom, unfortunately all those dreams together had to be destroyed. Valir woke up from his sleep when he heard the sound of a crow in the back window of his room, he rolled up his sleeves and took out a small sword. Silently he approached the crow in the front yard of his house, grabbed his neck and stabbed him with a knife.

His eyes—those terrible, pale eyes—glowed faintly in the dim light. King Valerian was the embodiment of a warrior king—tall, broad-shouldered, and carved from muscle and discipline. His physique was built not by luxury but by centuries of battle, every line of his body honed like a weapon. Unlike most alphas, his skin bore a faint, icy pallor, a reflection of the frozen lands he ruled, and his long, silver-streaked black hair flowed like the northern winds he commanded. But it was his eyes that set him apart—piercing pale grey, almost white, glowing faintly with the eerie calm of a predator who didn’t need to snarl to be feared. Even in silence, Valerian commanded a room, a man of both chill

Then, through the trees, a column of riders appeared—black silhouettes against the crimson light. The villagers poured into the square, whispering prayers. At the front rode a man who seemed carved from shadow itself. His armor was etched with runes that pulsed faintly red, and a long cloak flowed behind him like smoke. His face was half hidden by a hood, but his eyes caught the moonlight—crimson, cold, and alive. “The Dark Prince,” someone breathed. “He’s real.” The man dismounted, the air itself seeming to bow away from him. His gaze swept the crowd. “By order of the Crown,” he said, voice low but carrying. “We seek the girl born under the Blood Moon.”