Fenrys Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

The goblet shattered in his hand, but he didn’t so much as flinch at the sting of glass piercing his palm. Crimson wine ran down his fingers like blood, dripping onto the obsidian armrest of his throne. The air thickened, oppressive, charged with his fury. He leaned forward slowly, claws digging deep into the throne’s armrests until cracks spider-webbed through the black stone. His eyes glowed faintly, a savage light burning within them, the kind of fire that promised ruin to anyone foolish enough to stand against him.

Both Zinjo and Aurelia went lion in front of the lord, who clapped excitedly, "Oh what a magnificent display. This is why I got into the knowledge business for discoveries such as this one." "Lord Bathory, might I remind you I am the Princess of Shadowfen and Zinjo is my future husband. We are not things for you to study and catalog, although if you asked Zinjo he'd be more than happy to tell you about Kiazangi when we have time." "I suppose with Lebende Dunkelheit running around we should focus on putting him back in the bottle." "There is more than one Dunkelheit running around," Zinjo said. "Impossible, the only one welcomed came from a bottle stolen by Redford, head of the royal guard,"

The front table is the only one that is in use; the maids hover around it while they wait for orders. There are various reasons why my heart falters. The royal family is seated right there, to start with. As in... SITTING THERE, on high-backed black chairs upholstered in deep purple velvet. They are rapidly absorbed by my eyes. They really are just as the legends have depicted them. Galen, the king, had golden eyes and hair that's jet black. With her ice-blue eyes and beautiful brown hair, Queen Selene exudes grace and elegance.

“With your drugs that you thought could control me? Or with your body that serves both Angelina and me?” “No way…” His lips trembled uncontrollably. “You clearly took them every day…” Angelina’s face instantly turned red. She slammed the table and shouted, “Throw this madwoman out of the family!” I ignored her shouting and slowly removed the glove from my right hand. I raised my hand. On my thumb was an ancient, heavy black-gold ring, engraved with the family emblem—a phoenix in flames. The don’s ring was the symbol of the family’s highest authority. The entire room fell silent.

"Smelling of grease and salt, dragging your broken king behind you. You have traveled ten thousand miles just to die in a room that is too clean for you to even breathe in." Audrey stood her ground, her hand reaching out for Lucas’s shoulder to steady herself. "The cleanliness is a lie, Aurielle. I saw the 'Roots.' I saw the creatures you’ve been starving in the dark to keep your mirrors shining. Your 'Radiance' is just a debt you’ve pushed onto the rest of the world." The Throne Room was a massive parabolic dome, the ceiling made of a single, colossal lens that focused the sun’s rays into a central "Spark." This Spark was the heart of the Sun-Forge, the source of the power that could turn c

"A King who cannot shift is no King at all. And a Queen who carries a bastard has no throne." Fenris signaled his men. They moved in with heavy, silver-lined chains, different from the ones at the Citadel. These were designed to damp the Shadow spark permanently. I reached for the silver fire in my blood, but the exhaustion of the journey hit me like a physical blow. The light flickered in my palms and died. I was empty. "Take the man," Fenris commanded. "And leave the woman and the child to the winter. If the boy is truly a Primal, the ice won't kill him. If he’s a Dud... the crows will have a feast."

Vast. Not mine. Yet… not separate anymore. “Selene.” Fenrir’s voice reached me like an anchor thrown across a raging sea. I turned my head, breath shaking. He was still there. That alone surprised me. He stood at the edge of the light, half of his body illuminated, half swallowed by shadow. His magic flared brighter than I’d ever seen, silver, gold threads laced with something older, something royal. Blood ran freely from his nose now, dripping onto the stone floor.

Erythos’s voice coiled around her, a whisper, a command. “The past is not as it seems,” he murmured. “See for yourself.” A vision consumed her. She stood in the throne room of an ancient kingdom, watching as the First King raised his hands to the heavens. Power surged through him, but he was not alone. Beside him, a figure cloaked in ethereal light chanted words long lost to time. The force they summoned was immense, celestial in nature, and it was this, not merely the king, that had sealed Erythos away.

Today, they took this walk together, and to her, the thrones awaiting them at the end were not half as important as the man next to her. Yes, the thrones. Once different like day and night, one black, one gold, they were now a matching pair. Nathaniel had made himself clear in this regard: Katherine's throne had to be just as big as his own and of similar form. Yet the craftsman had taken his freedom on the material, surprising everyone. Beside the obsidian throne with the sharp black icicles on top, stood a throne out of glass. Minuscle diamonds, inlaid in the lean, fractured the sunlight that shone through the windows on the left and filled the whole, formerly dark hall with sparkles of li

Fenris roared, bursting through the doors with his claws extended, followed by a phalanx of terrified warriors. The scene they found was a nightmare: the treasury in ruins, the King unconscious, and the "Thorne Witch" cradling his head, her hands glowing with a frantic, golden light. “What have you done to him?” Fenris snarled, his eyes flashing a lethal amber. He stepped toward her, his aura swelling with a desperate, protective rage. “You brought those shadows here! You brought that ghost into our sacred ground!”