What Happens In Crown Of Midnight Novels & Stories

Sienna’s throat locked. “What’s that—” The wall behind them cracked, a loud snap splitting concrete, widening fast. Water roared in, black and freezing, smashing her legs out from under her. She went down, Roman’s hand grabbing her arm, but the flood climbed quick, and something crashed overhead—wood splintering, stone falling, the house breaking apart.

Now this is going south. I groaned in pain and fell on the ground. Fuck! It did go wrong. My vision blurred as the pain in my chest got sharper. I heard Rebecca laughing loudly. "I won... I won!... Joffrey is dead!" Wait! Who the fuck told her that I am Joffrey. How did she pick that part? The loud shot rang in the sky, Mikhail did his job. "Angel!" My voice was hardly a mumble. She should be in her senses now.

I reminded my brothers as Kenny suddenly appeared at the edge of the clearing, battling his way toward us with ferocious determination. The First's form continued to solidify, its features becoming visible, ancient beyond reckoning, neither male nor female, with eyes like black holes that seemed to absorb all light. "Stop them!" it commanded Nightshade. "The crown cannot be activated!" Matthias reached us first, his small hand joining mine on the crown. The jewels pulsed brighter, recognising his touch. Kenny fought through three of Nightshade's guards, his Royal battle leathers splattered with blood, but his eyes burning with purpose as he closed the distance.

When I open my fists, the wind scatters what remains of him like an afterthought, like ashes from a funeral pyre that burned too long ago to matter. The dream meadow collapses entirely, leaving me standing in a void that tastes of regret and relief in equal measure. I wake in my chambers, gasping like someone pulled back from drowning, my hands still shaped around a throat that exists only in the space between sleeping and waking. Moonlight spills through the massive windows, painting everything in shades of silver and shadow, and falls across the black crown sitting on my bedside table like a faithful pet waiting for its master to acknowledge it. The crown that was once silver, once blessed

It happened on a rainy afternoon. I had been arranging flowers in the great hall when hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. “Healer! Someone fetch the Alpha!” A maid cried out. The bouquet slipped from my hands. The maid rushed past me, nearly stumbling over her own dress. “What happened?” I asked. Her face glowed with excitement. “Miss Lily fainted!” She announced. Cold dread settled over me. I found myself walking toward Lily’s chamber before I realized what I was doing. The hallway outside was crowded.

**** When it’s over, I collapse on the soggy ground. My body is smoking. My veins feel scorched. The serpent is gone; whether it fled or banished, I don’t know. And there, floating before me in a shard of obsidian light, is the second piece of the Crown. It hums with ancient magic. It is cold, clean and sharp. I don’t reach for it. It comes to me. Sinks into my chest. The Sigil on my palm pulses once and goes dark. I hit the glass floor hard, my vision fading and the world tilting sideways.

He clutched his head, his body convulsing as the battle played out internally. Amelia seized the opportunity and rushed towards the pulsating tree at the center of the clearing. The hooded figures, momentarily disoriented by the surge of light, were caught off guard, providing her with a chance to strike. Summoning her remaining strength, Amelia swung the damaged amulet at the pulsating tree, aiming to sever its connection to the darkness. With a resounding crack, the amulet collided with the trunk, sending an explosion of light and energy rippling through the clearing.

He slammed his palm into John’s chest and the crown reacted. John’s gold power shattered, beams of light exploding outward, revealing raw vulnerability. The earth moaned. And the Forgotten reached the peak of their rise. The last of the ash bodies stood upright, head tilted toward the sky. Clint raised the crown high. “Behold your heir!” The moon fractured further. From it fell a single drop of blood fire. It landed on the crown, Clint’s laugh resounded. The moon split one half and vanished, the other consumed in crimson flame.

Kingmaker, it sings to me. I drop it. In no world should a crown be able to speak. But it does again, just as movement in my peripheral catches my attention. The brothers are no longer seated in place on the dais. They’re running so fast, they could be beams of light. The male—I think, Fionn?—shot up, so close to the ceiling and he’s flying in my direction and I don’t understand what the fuck is happening. My gaze drops to the crown, fearing blooming in me like a thousand roses. “Please, tell me you can get me out of here somehow? Heavens, this is so crazy. I can’t believe I’m talking to—”