Fallen Throne Novels & Stories

"Fuck off half-breed!" I grunted, pulling my scythe from the dying body. The creature lay there, his eyes boring into me. It had been a terrible fight, the likes of which I hadn't had for some time, which was thrilling and yet somehow saddened me, to snuff out the very being who had brought me such joy. His lips turned up slightly, his eyes, as blinding as the sun met mine. So this was a son of Shamsiel, former guardian angel of Eden and aid to Uriel, the fallen angel who taught the signs of the sun to men. You could tell by their attributes, Shamsiel's descendants possessed eyes that could blind you, thankfully most of us had special gear to negate any of the Nephilim's known attributes. M

Cracks formed in the floor, leaking ancient, freezing brine. ​"The Sunken Throne is the anchor of the Grey Sea," the King explained. A cold, cruel smile touched his slate-colored lips. "If I break the anchor, the ocean will reclaim the land. The Citadel, the mountains, the Southern Plains—all will be silenced. And I will rule over a world of salt and bone." ​"Not while I breathe," Kaelen roared.

I stood alone at the edge of the ravine, staring at the scar the Hollow’s collapse had carved into the land. Ashael joined me silently. “You altered the trajectory of the world,” it said. “I didn’t fix it,” I replied. “No,” Ashael agreed. “You removed the shortcut.” I laughed weakly. “You’re welcome.” Its gaze sharpened. “There is something you must know.” I turned to it fully. “When the Thrones fell,” Ashael said, “they didn’t disappear.” My stomach dropped. “You just said—” “The center vanished,” it clarified. “But fragments escaped.”

[Asher] I stripped off my blood-soaked coat and shirt, letting them drop to the floor. My footsteps echoed against the dead crystal walls, which shimmered back to life as I stepped into the throne room. At the other end of the room, right across the entrance, loomed the heart of the Prime Infernal Pack — the Obsidian Throne. A seat coveted by many who thought themselves worthy. Now they all lie beneath it, buried in the towering dais of rattling skulls and bones of their own kind.

With collapse that looked like coincidence. The crown was secure. The throne was intact. The kingdom stood. But the foundations had begun to shift. And that was how empires truly fell.

Silence fell. “She was chosen before you,” he continued. “Before the throne. Before fear clouded judgment.” “That’s not possible,” I snapped. “She hasn’t emerged.” Spiritfang’s eyes darkened. “Emergence is not proof of worth,” the Spiritfang said calmly. “It is proof of readiness. And Raven was delayed—not denied.” My chest tightened. “There will be consequences for your actions,” he went on. “For now, you are to search for Raven and bring her back, you can’t seat on the throne, Damien. Not while she is alive.”

And if it reached the pack elders—if Silas heard that his son was favoring a human, that the future Alpha was being influenced—it would plant seeds of mistrust. Doubt was all she needed. Alaric would have to choose. And Bianca would make sure he chose the throne. And if she couldn’t, she was sure his parents would do it for her. They always did. She stared at her reflection in the dark window. The city lights flickered behind her. You don't get to have him, she thought. Not while I'm still here.

The woman beneath the mountain spoke quietly: “The Thrones nearly ended the world the last time they descended.” Father Matthias looked horrified. “The scriptures say the gods saved humanity from the Ash Wars.” The Hollow King’s silver eyes glowed brighter below the abyss. “The scriptures lie.” Another colossal shape moved across the opening above the chamber. Closer now. Eleanor caught a clearer glimpse this time. Her stomach twisted violently. The Throne did not look alive. It looked assembled. A vast skeletal body forged from gold and white bone hovered beyond the broken ceiling while thousands of glowing eyes opened and closed across its wings in uneven patterns.

The throne room turned into ruins: the roof collapsed, the brazier fires engulfed the throne and the entire hall, covering it in ashes, and the marble statues melted like ice in a fire. "18 th and 19 th . When the night meets the dawn - one will stand one fall." Faithwinder floated very close to Cedric, looming over him. "Now you are the messenger of the Gods. You are a sword that strikes. You are the last hope. Use the power of Corvus and the Cosmic Eclipse to overthrow your father and destroy the Empire. Rise." Cedric was blinded by the moonlight. The throne room vanished, and he was sitting on the cold floor of a small room filled with old scrolls. Before his face was Alaric's painting.

The moonlight poured over them in silver streams as they clung together, hearts pounding, blood singing. Dawn bled across the sky as Nyra awoke in Urhan’s arms, the battlefield quiet. The Throne of Bones loomed behind them, now scarred by their union. But when Nyra stirred, she noticed the throne shifting, bones grinding against bone. She propped herself up, muscles sore, and saw what had happened. A section of the throne’s back had collapsed inward. Vertebrae splintered, pelvis fragments scattered like petals. In the hollowed cavity lay… something wrapped in obsidian silk.