Elide Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

Chapter one hundred and fifty two Kaida’s POV “Veyra wanted to create her own bloodline just like we have the Kaelith’s bloodline, but the council of elders refused because they knew how cruel she was,” Elder Martins began with. I knew that the lecture he had for us would last for long and I was in. Alpha Kellan wasn’t seated on the throne but next to me. The head of security was also here with us. Alpha Kellan had ordered for Beta Tobias to be brought and Elder Martins was done with the cleansing. Alpha Kellan and I slept like Elder Martins asked us to.

Everyone was waiting for me. Eldric is seated across the Spiritfang—who despite his blindness sits powerfully at the head of the table. Thalos Greymane is seated at my father’s left side. I am to marry his daughter. His wife is seated right beside him, Thalindra Greymane. Eira Wolfshade and Kaelen Throneclaw are the remaining two Elders that complete this table, and it has been this way for the longest time. All chosen by the Moonspirit.

she asked, her tone no longer as light. Ivy met her gaze. “No,” she said simply. “Just observing.” Silence. Heavy this time. Then Eliana laughed. Light. Dismissive. Controlled. “Interesting,” she said. “A scholarship student talking about standards.” She reached for her drink And as she did, her hand tilted just slightly. The glass tipped. Water spilled across the table Straight onto Ivy. A sharp gasp echoed from somewhere nearby. “Oh,” Eliana said, placing a hand lightly over her lips. “How careless of me.”

King Uther put my hand in his, and Elliot thanked him. Elder Cedric started, “We are gathered here today to crown Prince Elliot’s mate, Elisabeth Fox – Beard, as Princess of the Northern Kingdom of Dragons. Elisabeth has been key in finding abuse, wherever it may be, and destroying those who commit it, within the law. She has an uncanny ability of finding out the best place to take the accused and have them tried and punished. She is also humble enough to know when she needs to ask for help. She has been kind to the people she has rescued, including going to see them weeks after the fact to make sure they are well. She likes to set them up for speedy recoveries and makes sure they have all t

And beneath it, inked in blood that shimmered darkly: Trial IV , The Crownless Queen: When blood forgets its own name, the flame must burn truth from silence. The words throbbed. Pain shot through her fingertips. The map pulsed. And suddenly, Elara was no longer in the study. She was standing in a vast courtyard, open to the stars. Ash fell around her like snow. Cold. Soft. Endless. At the centre stood a throne, crafted from mirror shards and broken bones. It gleamed like ice. It bled like wounds. On it sat her sister. Or what remained of her. Not the girl Elara had loved. Not the warrior she had killed. Something in between. A figure of absence, shaped like a memory.

He gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain, driving the blade deeper. The throne cracked. The ruins trembled as the very foundation of Dawnfire groaned under the weight of what was happening. The Veilblade pulsed wildly, its glow consuming the darkness. The throne let out one final, deafening cry before it shattered completely. And then, silence. The air was still. The darkness had receded. The throne was gone. Elior fell to one knee, breathless. The Veilblade, its purpose fulfilled, flickered before vanishing from his grip. He looked up, meeting the gaze of the First King.

he added, quieter—yet somehow more final. Then, in a low breath that raised goosebumps on her skin: “And when the veil falls… I will be the first to see.” Elianna’s knees nearly gave way. But he stepped back, the pressure of his presence retreating like a wave drawn out to sea. “You may go,” he said simply. And just like that, the darkness began to recede. A faint glow emerged from behind the throne—moonlight, soft and cold, filtering through a carved window high above. It cast long shadows across the floor and glinted off his obsidian armor.

Aryn said softly. They stepped through a narrow gap into a vast hall, pillars shattered, an altar cracked. Dust is thick, the air tasted of ozone and old despair. At the far end stood a low dais, and on it—a stone… cradle? No: a throne of bone and silver. On the seat: nothing. But behind it, ribs rose like a cage, skeleton-petals reaching upward. Elara's heart clenched. “She sat there.” Lerder reached for her, but she shook her head. She approached and touched the throne. Its silver shimmered with life—like frost on veins.

“We go back. But we’re not going to live in the shadows anymore, Elara.” “Then where?” *********** Vane pulled a small, black key from his pocket. It wasn't the key to the Obsidian Manor. It was a key made of white gold and obsidian, fused together. “There’s a throne in the High Court that’s been empty since the beginning of time,” Vane said. “The Throne of the Eclipse. It requires two rulers—one who has seen the bottom of the abyss, and one who has broken the light.” He looked at her, his smirk returning—the one that made her want to hit him and kiss him at the same time.