Warped Sceptre Novels & Stories

Britney blurted out. Danielle knew Britney was right, She's carried away by the moments and blind to see what's happening. They both kept discussing other things. As Britney threw her left hand at Danielle to show her the engagement ring perfectly placed on her finger. Danielle screamed at the top of her voice as she hugged Britney with tears rolling down her cheek. She couldn't believe her best friend was getting married soon, She was happy for her.

Kaizen took the glass from him and sniffed under his nose and indeed it was a monkhood fixed with wolf-bane, the deadliest form of poison for a werewolf. “Do you know what this means?” Azrael stated but was interrupted when the loud sound of resonating feet bore their ears before Alpha Oizys burst into the room with Lucien hot on his trail. He entered the room and went directly to the corpses lying on the bed with a stoic look and after a quick examination, he sharply pivoted to the Sages with a more rigid look. “What is the meaning of this?” he polled, his stern eyes tramping every face of the Sages.

Katara looked at the Prince handed to her, she knotted her forehead and couldn't believe what he just lent. "No, I can't accept that." She immediately declined, it's his sword. The design changes but she can still feel the power that sword hold, the crown prince is not a crown prince of nothing. According to what she heard, at a young age, he was already sent to the battlefield as a leader and warrior and helped to win a war countless times, his sword was from their descendants that already slew millions of lives that made it more precious and more valuable. They said everyone who owns it will definitely succeed.

Another voice, deeper and commanding, cut through the morning air like a blade. My heart hammered against my ribs as I slowly lifted my gaze. Crown Prince Kael Ironfang stood before me, every inch the future king. His midnight-black hair caught the sunlight, and those piercing gray eyes seemed to see straight through my carefully constructed mask. The scar across his left temple only made him more terrifying. "So this is what the Crescent Moon Pack considers a worthy tribute." His voice held no warmth, only cold assessment. "She looks half-starved." "My Prince, she is untouched and trained in all the proper ways," the escort stammered. "She will serve your needs well."

He stood beside the armrest. He reached out and picked up the Imperial Crown from the velvet pillow where it had been resting. It was heavy gold, studded with diamonds. He looked at Vespera. "You look good in this chair," he murmured, a small smile touching his lips. "It’s hard," Vespera complained softly. "I'll need a cushion." "I'll have Oryn find one." Cyprian raised the crown. He didn't place it on his own head, though he had won the war. He placed it gently on Vespera’s dark hair.

He appeared at the center of the Golden Plains, sitting on a throne made of woven wheat and rusted iron. Aethelred was the most human-looking of the brothers. He wore robes of burnt-sienna and a crown of dry, jagged brambles. His eyes were the color of a setting sun—a weary, satisfied orange. He held a scythe made of "Aether-Glass," its blade shimmering with the souls of the shifters he had already "reaped" from the distant archipelagoes.

Back in the Heavenly Star Principality, the Royal Knight Walker was a saint honor. Darryl was surprised that Moloch turned out to be a saint emperor! Click! Just as Darryl was still in a daze from the shock, he saw Moloch raise his hand. Next, Moloch slightly waved his hand, and a pitch-black scepter appeared in his hand. The black scepter seemed to be made of a special kind of metal; it had an eerie and devilish-looking white skeleton at the tip. Darryl's eyes flickered, and he glanced disdainfully at Moloch's black scepter.

In fact, Grandfather vanished to the upper realm twenty-two years ago and has yet to come back, but he promised he would one day. "Grandfather...You're okay, right? If you need help-" He cut me off with a small wave, shaking his head "Theres no need. I don't need help and I'm okay, child. Right now, there's a war going on up here. As soon as I settle it, I'll come back. Not much longer now, precious girl" he reached for the alter and lifted a crown. A single arc of star-infused steel forms the crown's frame. Its surface is polished to a mirror's sheen on one side and patinated to deep charcoal on the other. Along the interior rim, a molten vein of alchemical glass - a deep ember-red - runs l

Lists of suppliers which were long out of date also showed up once in a while. “The small dent we’ve made has given us so far twenty-three possible items. Five wands, three staves, nine spears, five sceptres, and one pen. Why would a pen be in the armoury?” Eva mentioned as she glanced at the information, she’d gleaned from what they’d found about the possible items. Damon smiled at her, thankful she’d taken up that task.

Our father then gave Tyler the symbolic sceptre with the pack sigil atop it, which Tyler raised over his head in a triumphant gesture. The crowd cheered. I think I let out a howl, although it was lost amidst the noise. When it was over, Tyler made his way back to me, still wearing his crown. “How does it look?” he asked, adjusting it on his head. “The thorns are fake, but they’re a little scratchy.” “You look very handsome.” I smiled and helped him get it into the right position, placing it over his hair so it didn’t scratch his forehead. “Father is going to cry later, though, once everyone goes home.”