Broken Throne: A Red Queen Collection Novels & Stories

Nothing. Yet as if she could stay, he already wanted to dispatch her like some kind of a used broken toy. After he played with it for a few times, he would throw it away just as easy. He indeed played her like some kind of a toy, now she's too broken and weak, bruised in and out, shattered into pieces, feeling dirty about herself, starved, used, played, weak and almost seeing death whenever she closes her eyes.

Every queen needs a throne of bones. Mona’s crimson eyes gleamed. “Then let it be built from theirs.” The vortex pulsed once more, roaring like a storm. And far beyond the veil, she felt it — Kimberly’s power stirring, Lucien’s fury rising. They were coming. Good. Let them come. Because when the moon turned red again, the Shadowlands would become a battlefield… and she would be waiting on her throne, drenched in the power of gods. ---

The Heart of Reality. 💔 There had never been a fourth. Or so they believed. ⸻ 🌙 The Forgotten Throne The book revealed another memory. 🌙 Ancient ruins appeared around them. A massive palace. Larger than kingdoms. Built from black crystal. 🖤 Four thrones stood inside. Not three. Four. 👑👑👑👑 The first belonged to the King. The second to the Guardians. The third to the Heart. And the fourth…

The rule of cardinal chooses the next queen, it's what chose her. Honestly, rumours of a rebellion had been going around but she didn't think it was true. Seeing as she stayed near the countryside she barely had any opportunities to stay up to date with the current affairs. When they had reached the fountain at the center of the maze, Lucian turned to stand in front of her. "The rebellion does not believe in the power of the cardinal. They believe that it's leading the kingdom to disaster and that it's time for new ways. Truth be told the past few queens weren't doing what was best for Nydisia including my mother,"

Together we climbed the long marble steps toward the throne that had once been stained by my blood. This time— the crown was ours.

"You may sit Mr. Wilson. How about you Ms. Kingston? Why don't you tell us something about your book ?" I stood up and wetted my lips while looking at the cover of the book in question. "It's called the Myth of The Broken Throne." "Very well, what's it about? "It's starting with the history of the supernaturals and the birth of the werewolves. The Cerulean clan and the Royals --" "I guess you still don't know what the myth is about." "No, I don't. " "Then what have you thought about the book till now? Did you get any interesting mystery, you would like to share with us?"

Her eyes scanned the split edges, searching for the trap she knew must be there. “Even your exits are ugly,” she muttered. Then she moved. Her heel brushed the hem of a blood‑red banner as she stepped through; it melted into pixels on contact, the end of it disintegrating like ash. A fragment of her crown flaked off and fluttered down, burning away before it hit the floor. She stepped into the crack. The throne room shattered like glass underfoot. Blood banners, adoring faces, the crown’s perfect gleam—all broke into shards of light and fell away.

The twin on the right continued, “A few years ago there was an awful war between the Queens, their rivalry had been since when they were children.” The second twin began to speak, “The Red Queen wants her sister’s crown because she is the oldest and sole heir to the throne, but in the wake of her chaos, her younger sister chose to flee with her loyal subjects and they appointed her as a more suitable ruler.” “In retaliation, the Red Queen sent out her forces to rain havoc on the settlements that were loyal to her sister's crown and one of such settlements was Herald’s home town.” “He lost his family,” the twin said together with tears in her eyes.

"The moon—it changed too fast! There should have been screams, guards swarming, blood staining the halls to finally label the king as the monster he is. The pack would rise, force him from the throne, and I would step in as the savior. But nothing! No commotion, no downfall. Explain this!" The figure's form rippled like smoke, its voice emerging as a hollow echo that seemed to emanate from the depths of the mirror itself—cold, measured, laced with an undercurrent of warning. "Things have changed, Throne. The threads of fate twist unexpectedly. Your pawn, the chosen bride... he is something more than we anticipated. A wildcard, perhaps, bound deeper to the alpha than blood or curse. The bond

yet.”“Then what do you want?”The second figure turned slightly, and though I couldn’t see their face, I felt their smile.“To watch the Queen burn herself alive.”I lunged.But in the blink of an eye, they vanished—leaving only smoke and a single, whisper-thin thread of crimson silk where they’d stood.Riven knelt and touched it. “Blood magic.”“Message received,” I growled. “They won’t come openly.”“No,” he said. “But they’re already moving. And if they know what she is…”“They’ll come for her when we’re weakest,” I finished. “When she’s rebuilding. Reclaiming.”I stood in the center of the temple ruins, jaw clenched.Clara was rallying the realm. Calling the packs. Uniting the shattered pieces of