Broken Throne: A Red Queen Collection Novels & Stories

"The seals have fractured. The Dragon Crown must be reforged before the Boundless breach completely." “The Crown,” it continues, circling me like a wraith. “Was once a vessel of control. The last Seer Queen shattered it to scatter fate. Three pieces remain.” Lucien’s jaw tightens. "We were told it was destroyed." "Shattered," the Dremari corrects. "Three fragments. One lies in the Crimson Vale. The other sleeps in the Glass Depths. The third… has not yet awakened." A hush falls over the room. My heart beats louder than the fears that are very clear in the room.

another answered. A pause. Then, quieter—closer now, almost thoughtful: “Look at the wounds.” Fabric shifted. Hands moved—not rough, not gentle either. Efficient. Her sleeve was pulled back just enough to expose torn flesh beneath, the bite marks jagged and deep, edges darkened with drying blood. One of them exhaled softly. Not shock. Recognition. “That’s not clean.” “No,” the second voice agreed. “It’s not controlled.” “Unstable?” “Has to be.”

But that throne changed us all. Even me and him. He was once my guard, my protector. Now, he’s after my kingdom. The path to the throne is paved with thorns, pain and blood. To win, I’ll risk it all. I should risk all of that I have even if my heart is included. --- ETHAN ASH PENDLETON

The Throne shatters and grows in the same breath, spines twisting like serpents. And in the heart of it— Us. Burning. Breaking. Becoming. The Throne roars a promise in my skull: If I can’t have you, I’ll take HER. And then— Everything goes white.

--- **The Third Prophecy – The Sovereign Reckoning** > *When the hell rifts scream open and the false light of fanatics blinds the world, the Raven Queen must choose. She may raise an army of the dead to end all wars… or she may lay down her power and let the living decide their fate. Only one path leads to true sovereignty. The other leads to eternal night.* > *Beware the one who wears the crown of thorns but serves only ash. The Lunarch’s fire will consume all if left unchecked.* ---

From the name of the Pack alone, the red stone signifies beauty and power, and after every full moon, the blood moon takes over, fortifying the powers of the throne. The throne wasn't an ordinary throne that anyone could possess aside from the descendants of the royal blood which his opponents didn't know until they killed him and realized that killing him was useless. What Alpha will rule then if he can't possess the power of the throne? The last option is to either appoint one before Raze comes back or die on the spot on the chair. The throne makes one indestructible, invincible, and indestructible. It was designed by his forefathers during a war, seeing that they were trying so hard to ta

"Luna Isolde told me to remind you: today is Astoria's birthday. If you don't show, the world will think the Moonsilver pack is fractured. The Council might reconsider their—mercy—toward you." She leaned in, her voice a sharp warning. "Remember, the silver chains in Hollowstone are always hungry for more." "In this entire pack, when have Astoria and I ever been at peace?" I let my aura flare—a cold, jagged aura that made the omega maid flinch and pin her eyes to the floor. I didn't wait for her response. I headed downstairs. In the grand hall, Astoria was a vision of perfection, surrounded by the daughters of high-ranking Alphas. She held a crystal flute of crimson deer blood wine, tilting i

“Something you’ll understand when this is over. I should have worn this throne once. But the Council feared power they couldn’t chain. They exiled me because they couldn’t use me.” Lyra’s voice trembled with fury. “You killed your own blood for that power.” “Blood is a tool, not a bond,” he said, stepping forward. “Speaking of which… I heard you found our little secret in the Vale.” Lyra’s stomach turned. “You’re the one Kael serves. Not the Reavers. Not the council. You.” Kael smirked. “I prefer the term ally.” --- The Tainted Throne Lyra stepped farther into the hall, her voice rising. “Where’s Rowan? Where are the others?”

Never to be seen again. She took a hesitant step forward, the few chairs and tables that had been scattered around the walls of the throne room now shattered and broken, laying in pieces across what had once been a place for parties; for happiness. Or so it seemed to those who witnessed the royal family from afar. The floors were saturated with blood, puddles of crimson and bone littering the ground as though they were meant to reside there, tricking all those who see it into believing it had always been so.

TO THE TRIALS AND LONG-RUN CURSE THEY ARE ALL SUFFERING FOR A THOUSAND YEARS, SHE WILL HAVE TO CHOOSE NEITHER DEATH NOR LIVING UNDER THE CURSED BOOK WHERE THEY ARE ALL RUNNING FROM WITHIN. “They run differently with the symbols of four. It holds the laughing clown as death and end is your only way once you drew that unfortunate card. Dancing and laughing are the things that they are prohibited to do, for the red queen will surely command, ‘OFF WITH THEIR HEAD!’ Tricky, funny as none of them seems to die, as the king himself spares each one at the back of their queen. Now, take the paint, make sure that it is red, as the queen will surely say, ‘OFF, WITH THEIR HEAD!’ as who is the one, I am t