Wind Of The Palace Novels & Stories

He twisted his grip on the wet head, resulting in my leaking tip grinding into his palm over and over again, making a breathless moan slip out of my mouth as my head dropped back on the wall which I was leaning against. “You like that?” He crooned, voice deep and thick as he stroked his thumb over the slippery tip and at the same time, dug his thumb in the slit, drawing another throaty moan out of me as my chest heaved heavily. My eyes squeezed shut as white-hot pleasure kept washing over me over and over again.

Mist swirled at the base of the valley like a sea of ghosts, and the towering cliffs behind the palace made it look as if the mountain itself had birthed it. Aurora stepped out, her shoes planting softly against the bridge’s glistening stones. The air was cool, the scent of pine and snow laced with something older—ancient incense or wild magic, maybe both. The palace shimmered like a dream spun from frost and shadow. Its spires pierced the sky, carved from black obsidian and veined with silver. Stained glass windows caught the moonlight, painting strange shapes across the courtyard. Ivy crept along its walls, blooming with ghostly white flowers that pulsed faintly like living things.

Yet a winds blows that surround Hez and he could feel the arising hope in his heart, as if someone just told the wind on his last breath, that his mere embrace was the hope to one's darkness. That same moment, the place was starting to fall apart. The wind was on the action, the same wind that an Alpha could only be tame. And its presence was those of ancientness, it envelop Hez as if he was the last man to know the very thing an Alpha and Luna could experience. And what was the hope, only knowing there was could one able to search with it. The old palace was as good as ruined! When Hez materialized, he find himself on the far away. In front of him, the fall of the strongest of the old palac

Ms Vento sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "I could hear their conversation from last night." Ms Vento finally confessed, staring at the ceiling, her eyes unwavering. "They were talking about some sort of plan they had..." The older woman trailed off as she looked back down at the young man in front of her and pursed her lips at the confused look on Ash's face.

She walks upright, every step regal, but there’s a limp now—a flaw in her machinery. The main doors of the palace loom ahead, thirty feet tall and lacquered in a lacquer so black it eats the light. As the guards open them, sunlight slices in, catching on the dust motes and the sheen of fresh blood. Zayla blinks, momentarily blinded, and in that raw second she sees the city arrayed below: Cordiva, her birthright, the streets already crawling with rumors of the coup, every spire and bridge tense with the promise of violence.

The night is cold, the moon is bright. The palace halls are silent and only the howling of the winds at the night could be heard. The soft glow of the moon illuminated the palace halls. Basked in the luminous glow of the moon the palace marble floor glistened like a rare gem. Morrigan looks out of the window as she gulped the last of her glass of wine. Holding the locket that she wears close to her heart.

RACHEL'S POV. The blue sky was dotted with tiny white fluffy clouds that drifted lazily in the gentle breeze. The dappled sun shone through the trees, casting mysterious shadows as the leaves danced to the wind's rhythm. The reflection of the sun shone through my window causing the curtain to glow. The birds freely flew high above the sky, children's laughter echoed around the palace, and maids moved freely with their daily activities. The palace had returned to its shining glory after Athena and her friends attacked.

And I would burn this palace to the ground before I let Carl Blackwood steal my throne. The moment Nico left the study, closing the heavy door behind him, I let out a long, sharp breath. The air in this palace was thick , thick with deceit, thick with the scent of old blood and older grudges. I rose from my chair, pacing to the window, staring out into the courtyard where the guards change shifts under the cold glow of the moon.

My hair was also blown untidy, and even more untidy was the garden in front of the palace. The flowers were blown off and the leaves scattered on the grass. Some flowers even had their delicate stems blown off. Damn it! But it's a good thing it's not Selene's Rose Garden, or she'd be very sad. My men, too, were blinded by the wind, but none of them were afraid, and they struggled to keep their feet in the wind, filling up the battle formation as soon as it was broken.

Delilah suggested we go together. There were lots of people there, and the trees were draped in colorful lights. On stage, a woman from Azureland was performing. She looked really cool, with a high ponytail and high-waisted shorts. Delilah bounced and jumped along to the music, her face beaming with joy. Then, at the music's climax, the sound cut out abruptly. The whole crowd erupted in surprised gasps. The woman on stage smiled and said in Fleurmontian, "I want to take this opportunity today to propose to the man I love most."