Warrior Princess Book Novels & Stories

Nimuel gaped at him, "Haz'th, is the Princess... dangerous?" Haz'th chuckled. "Only the reflection, Lady Nimuel. Princess Saayan is as just a ruler as they come, but she does not have a very friendly personality. She is seriously misunderstood, but her subjects revere her." They crossed a small wooden bridge near the edge of the forest, to a small alcove. This place looked like a small and simple village- a few wooden huts and a few cattle roaming around. To Aelanor, it looked as mundane as a rustic mortal village hamlet.

Although Eliana wants to revel in his sight, she hones in on the maid who is slowly limping away. The Princess stealthily maneuvers through the crowd, only occasionally having to slash into a rebel or rip the throat out of a soldier. Tasting metallic liquid in her mouth, she continues on. Selma crawls up the steps of the castle, her leg broken form the fall. Eliana allows her to reach half way up, when the maid stops, exhausted and hopeless. She approaches, smoothly ascending the stars. Fur coats her body as she reaches down to force Selma to face her. The woman's gaze is wide with fear. She gulps, trembling, "Please, I am sorry. Spare me."

I also won't beg. I pick up one of the worn volumes and open it. In the beginning, there were two. In the beginning, one male, one female. In the beginning, no war, no famine. In the beginning, love. Within a short time, I'm enthralled. It's like reading a science fiction novel even though I know these events happened. This book is about their history. I stop myself. My history. It's told by a female Shadow Warrior named Nalista.

“If there really are talks of peace with the Wyres, you know exactly what King Hart would offer.” Ignoring the way my heart drops, I turn away from her. She says nothing as I head back out the front door, tearing down the steps, mind racing. I know she’s right. If there really are peace talks. If there’s a way for Shifters and Wyres to finally end this centuries-old war, I know exactly what our King would offer. Octavia. It’s a tale as old as time. A cliché that should have ended after the ink’s dried on the history books. Octavia is the Princess. Our Princess. And the Bloody Prince is around our age. It makes sense as much as I don’t want it to.

“This man is a royal warrior of the earlier King and Queen, and it seems the previous king had a daughter the royal warriors had rescued. She now wishes to free her people from the newer tyrants’ Here is the situation. She is only seventeen years old. We would be having dragons fight with us against other wolves. You know even though I hate Malcolm and he is brutal with his kingdom; it is against the laws of our kind to fight with other species against your own kind. What kind of experience would this little lost princess have? I don’t want to release any of my pack for what would be a slaughter. After I told them my thoughts, the warrior assured me that they would come and discuss this face

Accepting the condition resembled taking one’s life by jumping from the top of a tower and the question here was, would he jump after me, accepting the fate that came with landing? No, I’d be the one watching as he fell, yet drawing me to follow him. What promises could a merchant fulfill and what confidence did he have that leaned me so close to believe in him without a doubt? Questions I’d dreamt of while I slept awakened, sent me in an existential fit. Why was I truly doing this? What was my true ambition? I tried to repeat it to myself. I’m Princess of Ariana, the warrior of the Warwick Kingdom. Ever since I watched that one warrior training ever since I was five years old, I’d wanted to

She adjusted her grip, awkward, but trying. The warriors jeered. One, Brannon, the largest of the lot, stepped forward, sneering. “Let me test the princess. I would love to know if she bleeds like the rest of us.” I almost allowed it. Almost. But something in the way she stiffened, jaw set despite fear flashing in her eyes, made me wave him off. “Not yet. She’s mine to break.”

I would keep an eye on the queen around Sarah. Once the Queen was gone, Sarah touched her shirt. “What am I supposed to wear?” I went to the closet. Sarah’s POV “Stand up straighter, you’re a Princess,” Hellen said, gliding past me with a book on her head. This was so dumb. I straightened the book on my head, glanced at Sebastian, who was reading a book, and tried again to walk around the room without fumbling feet.

THE END Dear Readers, thank you so much for reading and staying with me till the end of this book. The Wolf Prince has an open ending and I decided to leave it this way because every reader deserves the chance to write their happy ending for the book. This is your chance guys, give both Hunter and Barbara the happy ending that you think they deserve. If you have any questions, kindly drop them in the comment section. Once the questions are up to 10, I'll make it into a chapter and answer all of your questions. The earlier you drop your question, the faster you get a response. So, give it to me, people.

I whispered, aiming my magic at the Fae who was struggling against my vamps in a rage. His body froze. I had been surprised when the vamps working for me had brought him in. Even with his mangled arm, he had been putting up one hell of a fight. I slowly walked toward him. He couldn't move until I released my spell, but I could see the anger and fear warring in his eyes. That was quickly replaced when an excruciating pain washed over him as I probed his mind. "Well, well, well." I chuckled. "It seems we have a Water Clan soldier in our midst. One that's betrayed his own Princess to be exact."