Victoria Aveyard Red Queen Series Novels & Stories

The throne was made of drawers. Morgue drawers, file drawers, memory drawers, all stacked into a seat tall enough for a monster and empty enough for a trap. It waited in the middle of Monroe Avenue under a rain of ash. Ava's fragments stopped. The vow child whispered, "She kept one." The Morgue Queen was dead. Mostly.

Blood ran across her lifeline, blackened at the edges, then curled toward the vial as if recognizing a sister crime. “I preserved her first blood before Tala ran, before Rudina died, before anyone knew which daughter would become the better key.” Adolphus smiled again, wide and reverent, as the throne opened its black bone arms toward the vial. The first Blood Feather book wrote one final sentence above us, and every word burned like a nail through my name. The queen who must not bleed has already bled. Then the dead midwife held up the vial of my preserved birth blood and laughed as the ancient throne began calling it home.

“The one connected to the Queen.” Cael looked at her then. The silence answered. Adelaide’s wings drew in behind her, not flaring, but folding close, as if even they sensed the gravity of what had been laid before her. She thought of the dream-forest, the Queen’s red hair, the invisible crown, the command to survive and claim her inheritance. She thought of Cael’s marks, Apollo’s distant bond, the red now woven through her own hair like a warning. The path ahead no longer felt like travel, but procession, an approach to something sacred and inescapable.

" Azrael shouted, her falling hot tears, creating a small fire on the ice slab. "Of course, it isn't her fault. It's just that history is repeating itself. I know that she is not Madeline, who killed her mate with her bare hands so that she could rule the world alone. She is victoria. But don't worry, unlike Madeline who was a greedy human with enormous powers, Victoria is just a soft-hearted girl with a little bit of sarcasm. She will be able to handle all of us, and let's see who she chooses in the end." Daniel Neptune said.

I shook my head as I pulled my phone out and watched her and Heth come into the house and make some lunch. She had developed into a beautiful woman. Her long black hair hung down to her perfect ass. She had put some red highlights in it and I loved it. She stood at five eight but she was the perfect height for me. Her eyes though they really caught your attention. They were like the perfect shade of blue I have ever seen. When I stared into them I have to pull myself back or I would be lost in them. I closed the app on my phone and put it back in my pocket. Heth truly was the only person I did trust with her. He knew my dirty little fantasy's about making her mine. I knew he would protect he

Araceli giggled. “But there has to be a way” I protested and she craned her neck thoughtfully. “The first step you need to take is to separate the King from his mate, because with her by his side, he’ll grow stronger and no one will ever be able to defeat him” Araceli said seriously and I frowned. What the hell was she saying? How could Eleanor possibly be of any good to the Lycan king? Let alone make him grow stronger? “That’s the only way for now, Ethan. You may leave”

And when my eyes opened, they were scarlet red. The cells in my body were born-again, and I started to look more mature than a 21-year-old girl. I was Victoria, Blood Queen, a Kindred who had lived 533 years. I looked up to see Leon's eyes widen as if he was witnessing a miracle. "Darling," he began, reaching down to cup my face. His speech was slurred, and his body, defeated. "You're so beautiful…" I smiled against his hand and felt it slowly slide down as his body began to fall backward. I quickly raced behind him, catching his head before it hit the ground. I looked down at my mate. He saved me, and the only way I could repay him was by winning this war.

I look at her, wondering why she’s so happy to see me even though I have no clue who she is. “Your Highness,” Eric says, bowing his head. All the color drains from my face as my eyes widen in terror—a redhead Queen. There is only one person she could be. “Hello, princess,” Ava, the Queen of Witches, says, her voice dripping with a sinister sweetness. Her lips, painted in a bold red hue, stretch into a big grin, revealing pearl-white teeth. Clad in a red pantsuit that matches her lipstick, with black heels adding a touch of elegance, she exudes an air of confidence and power. One look at her and it’s evident that red is her favorite color.

He obeyed her every order and aimed to please her to her utmost satisfaction, in all ways. The Red Queen's castle was as her name implied; the curtains were red, the hallways were red, some walls in the main hall were painted red and a mix of white and black. Her silk sheets were drenched in blood red dye and there, her general ravaged her body in passionate sex.

"But she does." Charlotte staggered on her heels. Her eyes widened while lips twisted in disgust. "It's her, isn't she?! She's the Rogue Queen that everyone's talking about!" Red looked at me with a "do something" demand in her eyes. She probably wanted to stay out of any kind of conflict, but I was about to drag her into the middle of the fucking storm. "Yes," I confirmed, "She is the Red Queen." I still held my hand on her waist even if she tried to free herself. Finally, she gave up on that and confidently gazed at Charlotte.