Romans & histoires Corona Rapunzel

It took me long seconds to know why she steps your foot over the fucking rails of a fucking balcony! “Anya! What the fuck are you doing?!” “What do you think?! Now sh!” “Anya! You will get injured!” “Can you not think negatively and just stay put?! We might get caught with all the noise you make.” Anya murmured the last sentence. I guess what she has in common with her mom is she gets annoyed when someone does not do what she wants and at the same time is annoying. I just listen to what she says and hope her mother doesn’t acknowledge the beauty of flowerbeds at night. I focus on watching over Anya Rapunzel-ize her escape and I don’t want to say I’m the Flynn Rider here but I kind of am? I m

She pointed her perfectly manicured fingers to me. I rolled my eyes not caring if she saw me or not. It's not like I wanted to see her obnoxious friends. Whoops, she saw me roll my eyes. She gave me a killer glare and grabbed my hair in her fist. "I'm not joking, if you ruin this night for me, I'm going to make sure you see hell" she let me go when she felt I understood. I stood there and touched the place she yanked. That moment I wondered how Rapunzel survived every time the witch climbed her hair.

It looked suspiciously similar to my own, the same shade and texture, even though it was tangled and filthy with blood. Cade didn't let me wallow in doubt for long as he shifted his gaze to me, his expression softening just enough to be terrifying. "It indeed is yours, Cora," he said, his voice flat and certain. He held up a few strands, and I could see the way they shimmered even under the grime. Cade told me that if he wasn't wrong, this hair was what Ronan had used as part of whatever ritual process he was performing here in the dark. My blood turned to ice, and the chills that had started back at the stone grew until I was shivering despite the heavy coat I wore. The thought of Ronan sne

Try and take it from us. When it was over, sweat cooling and lungs burning, Eirwen kept her eyes on the city—daring it to punish her for wanting, for claiming, for refusing to kneel. She didn’t have to wait long. Her phone buzzed—a warning, a summons. She lay bare against Domenik’s chest as Talia’s voice cut through, harsh and scared. “Don’t shoot the messenger. We lost Raul. Hit at his bar—arson, then a bullet. They left a message: ‘Your queen makes you weak.’”

Dante was seething, but he had to keep it under wraps. He never saw it coming. The girl who had always been so meek, the one who clawed her way up from the slums, the real deal heiress, was showing her true colors then, all teeth and claws. "50 million? In your dreams! Who do you think you are?" "Dreams are optional." I whipped out my phone, the screen showing a ticking countdown to send. "This is Rosa's health report. It says her kidneys are in perfect health, and that the whole sick act was just a con to snag my kidney.

I said softly to Doctor Aldren. He nodded. "You deserve better than what they gave you, Princess." Before anyone could say anything else, another woman stepped forward. She was a Luna. I recognized her from previous gatherings. "Princess Ravena," she said carefully. "There is another rumour. One that many of us have heard." I tensed. "What rumour?" "That you and Lucien remained chaste. Despite being married for nearly a year." The room went deadly quiet. I felt my face heat as this was not something I wanted to discuss publicly. But before I could respond, a familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

Not yet. Before I can ask, Ronan's radio sounds. He steps outside. Returns in ninety seconds. Sets something on the table. A sealed envelope. The wolf-and-crown symbol stamped into the wax on the back. No address. No name. Just the symbol. Inside, one page. Clean handwriting. Unhurried. Eight words. The half-blood princess will not reach the crown.