Valerian The Cruel Prince Novels & Stories

Among those smitten by her was none other than the Lycan King of the Vakatow bloodline, a figure of rugged magnificence named Valerian. Valerian, with his chiseled features and piercing blue eyes, ruled not only over his kind but also over the hearts of those who followed him. He was a beacon of strength and wisdom, a true embodiment of the royal lycan legacy. Yet, it was Isolde's enchantment that brought him to his knees.

Valerius stood in the center of the crimson dust cloud, his chest heaving with heavy, ragged breaths, his bare forearms radiating waves of intense, heat-haze energy that melted the frost on the stone steps into clouds of rising steam. He turned his head, his burning crimson eyes locking directly onto Baron Vanehart and Lady Morrigan standing paralyzed on the high dais. "Did you not hear my brother, Vanehart?" Valerius purred, his voice smooth, dark, and laced with a psychotic, terrifying pleasure as he stepped up the stairs toward them. His long, three-inch fangs glistened with venom, catching the bright glare of the sun.

And when he aired out his deep voice in question, it was as though he spoke into her soul. Carolyn... He had called her name with that voice and she had turned into jelly blushing solely like a fool, and now, he was in her dreams, looking as hot as ever in those black outfits. He really is a prince. Do all princes look this good? She hadn't been the type to get flustered by good looks and a 'sexy as hell' strong build because she had never had a choice in her life, but the moment she saw him, all of her principles were completely revoked. He stripped her of her senses and principles as though they weren't there in the first place.

And there, just visible beneath the thin silk robe, was the gentle curve of my stomach. Livia brushed my hair with a silver comb that sang softly with every stroke. “Tell me about him,” I whispered, afraid and unable to stop myself. Livia’s hands never paused. “Prince Valerian Nocturne is five hundred and twelve years old. The only son of King Lucius the Unbroken. He has ruled as Crown Prince for four centuries. Warriors fear his blade. Scholars fear his mind. Women—” She paused, lips curving. “Women have thrown themselves at his feet for centuries. He never looked twice.”

"She doesn't hurt anyone and no one has courage to hurt her because her mate is Alpha king, most powerful among werewolves and off course, her brother is Augustus..." Snow yawned. "Okay, bye! " He went back to his hole. Valerina was sitting there thinking on whatever Snow has told her. Augustus entered the main gate at the same time. He saw Valerina holding the basket of carrots and lost in her own thoughts. His eyes paused on her. Her mesmerizing golden eyes always makes him captive. Her silky hair swaying with the wind. Her honey skin complicating the seren night. He couldn't understand how some human can look so peaceful and beautiful.

Vlad paid her no heed, all he did was to carry out the duty that his father had ordered him to do, which was making sure that she was ready to leave for the outside world. Just now, he was done with lecturing her on what to do, as well as the type of women that surrounds the Morningstar brothers. Unfortunately, the cursed prince was rarely seen, so it was going to be difficult to get access to him. But the other time, Azriel was currently in a clubhouse not far from where they were, so he's going to be the stepping stone that Ricca will need in order to get to his brother. Eros was the one their master wanted.

growled the seemingly embittered Alain. Casimir Lennox Aldrich Duchene, the heir apparent and charming noble, eldest son of Alana Duchene and the late Sebastian Duchene, was the golden prince as it were of the family and often quite mischievous. He'd been only two years older than his baby brother Alain but a troublemaker from the very beginning. His teacher believed him to be a terror for years but respected his status as the son of a prominent figure in politics. He was known for wild and crazed stunts such as this and events that got his younger brother caught in the crossfire. As charming as he was seductive, the tall handsome blond lad attracted attention from women of all ages but bedd

They felt strangely familiar, almost like I had seen them somewhere, though I knew that was impossible. King Valen, the Northern King, had hair as brown as dirt. In the photo, he was reclining casually on a throne, his chest half-exposed under a dark robe. He looked like someone who enjoyed trouble—sly, handsome, and dangerous. He was staring lazily into the camera, but his eyes were so sharp it felt like he was looking right into my soul.

“Somewhere I can keep you alive.” “Adrian....” “Later,” he says. “Right now, just run.” We run. And somewhere far away, Valerius sits on his throne, touching the fresh scar that just appeared on his own face, mirroring the one I just gave his elite. He smiles, slow and terrible. “There you are, little queen,” he whispers. “Come to daddy.”

A former tyrant from the dark era, Alpha was a pure apocalypse herald who was sealed away because his brutality was deemed too dangerous even by the wolf race itself. Valerius breathed in the night air with long breaths that filled his giant ribcage. "The smell of iron... oil... and despair," Valerius' voice was not human, but an echo from within the blizzard. His eyes swept over the group of tattered clothes of the escapees at his feet. "Where is my crown of fangs that I left behind? Why is the air filled with the scent of money and a mortal Queen?"