A Throne Of Ruin Novels & Stories

His voice carried over the chaos. “The Council has ruled through fear for generations.” He looked toward Magnus. “They destroyed bloodlines.” Then he looked at Kael. “They created leaders who served their own fathers.” Finally, his eyes found mine. “And they broke people who refused to kneel.” I clenched my fists. “Riven, stop.” He smiled. “No.” The fortress shook again. Warriors poured through the outer gates. The old order was collapsing around us. Riven raised his weapon. “The old world ends tonight.” And then the gates of Moonfall exploded.

Adrian flinched. “He was going to betray The circle he founded and the empire he and your father built.” Adrian watched on as the words slithered out. His mind still conflicted. “You sure aren’t sympathizing with her, when she's as much threat as her father?” The man continued. “She’s not part of this.” Adrian said. Ronald leaned forward. “Everything is part of this.” His voice bounced off the walls of the room. “Step back.” Adrian didn’t move, neither did he answer. Ronald’s expression slightly hardened.

His obsession deepened. I walked the line between ruin and surrender. How long before the secrets met? How long before the man I meant to destroy realized the ghost in his bed would be the one to bring his empire down? The game had never been more dangerous or more consuming.

Leo’s foot was nudging mine, sliding slowly up my calf. I didn't move. I couldn't. The sensation was intoxicating, a forbidden thrill that made my pussy ache with a sudden, sharp pulse of need. He didn't stop; his foot climbed higher, pressing into the back of my knee, forcing my legs to part slightly. "You're shaking," he observed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm not," I lied, though my hand was trembling as I reached for my water glass. Before I could take a sip, his hand shot across the table, gripping my wrist in a firm, bruising hold. He didn't let go. His thumb began to rub slow, deliberate circles over my pulse point, feeling the frantic rhythm of my heart.

He would be here on the night of the blood moon- when I will be crowned Alpha. He thought I only invited him out of honor. He didn’t know there’s a bigger picture. Professor Imogene introduced him to Luna Gwen. So I had no doubt he planned along with Imogene, Aegon, and whoever else was involved in endangering my life since I was little. Hannah being a white wolf must only be a coincidence. I’m sure. It has nothing to do with the fake prophecy. Rhea steps closer to me. “I did. I found a way to break your curse. If it doesn’t work, you have every right to send me away.”

And still yet, that remains the least confusing thing, as what is, is the finding of the stake of Adonis, which was used to kill King Orrin. So many questions left unanswered, because yet, I never expected the Lord of the heavens to let such happen, without giving us any kind of sign. Still yet still, it is still a sign from him that each and every God he created is now in danger, meaning a new supernatural has risen, or it could be a supernatural who has always been there.

“Your Grace, we need to kill Shuntha,'' Seti walked alongside Raiden as he made his way to the icy throne. The throne wasn’t made of ice but metal that was painted white, it was almost a century old. It didn’t rust, it wasn’t worn down, the paint wasn’t chipped, and it looked like it had just been crafted. Five fairies that were part of the kingdom forged the throne with magic, the fairies were once respected and loved; until King Atticruss and Queen, Tressa feared them and spread hatred amongst the people.

The night sky burned crimson as fires spread across the palace grounds, smoke twisting upward in choking plumes that blotted out the stars. Serenya stood at the edge of the shattered hall, her breath shallow, her heart a frantic drum in her chest. The throne room—once the sanctum of her ancestors—was reduced to ruin. Stone pillars lay cracked, tapestries smoldered in heaps of blackened fabric, and the seat of power itself, the High Throne of Valeor, leaned crookedly, a fractured shadow of what it had once been.

The throne room was in ruins. Cracked pillars leaned at dangerous angles. Deep fractures split the marble floor, veins of destruction spreading outward from the center like the aftermath of a storm. Chairs lay overturned. Blood stained the ground in dark, uneven smears. The great doors stood half off their hinges, bent inward as if something powerful had forced its way through without asking permission. My chest tightened. “What… the fuck,” I rasped. I pushed myself upright, every muscle protesting as I staggered to my feet. My head spun briefly, memories slamming back into place in jagged fragments.

Looked around the table slowly making eye contact with every single one of them. “I dream of empires that don’t need permission slips from councils of scared old bitches and spoiled pure-bloods to exist. I dream of thrones I built with my own hands, not handed to me because I spread my legs for the right Alphas. I dream of revenge so clean and so complete that the people who sold me wake up screaming my name for the rest of their short, pathetic lives.” I pushed off the table. Stepped back.