Fenrys Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

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.

The Hollow Realm trembled. The jagged ground beneath Elior’s feet cracked further, pieces of stone breaking away into the abyss below. The fractured sky above twisted, dawn and night swirling like an unsteady reflection in shattered glass. The throne loomed behind him, an ancient, unfinished thing waiting for its new ruler. And Sienna stood before him, power crackling at her fingertips, her silver eyes unreadable. “I won’t let you take the throne,” she said. Rael’s sword was already in his hands, but Myrra placed a hand on his shoulder, silently urging caution. Bram stood rigid, gripping his greatsword, his muscles tense with restrained fury.

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!”

Ana (voice thick): “Eight treasures down, thirty-nine still sleeping. Tonight we wake the ninth.” She leads us past the church, up a frozen path to an ancient hay barn that smells of cedar and centuries. Inside stands the Winterglass Mirror: tall, black ice veined with silver, humming like a hive. It doesn’t show our reflections. It shows futures we’re terrified of. - Me on a throne of frozen blood, crown complete, eyes empty. - Remy kneeling, broken, dagger at his own throat. - Seras burning everything she loves because she couldn’t stop it.

I stood my ground while holding the sword with a tight grip. We were led into the main throne room, just to find it empty. Half of the property in the throne room, like my father's golden statue and his fathers too, were not there. My mother's picture and the family portrait, which were engraved on a metal plate behind the throne, weren’t there; instead, there was a glass seat that elongated to that rooftop like a flowing waterfall. It was made of the most expensive glass, the throne room looked like another universe,it was different from the stench outside the pack, the floor was made of mables, and the chairs that were carved were made of glass and coated with very lush pillows.

The glass decanter on the side table shattered into a thousand crystal shards, the lightbulbs in the ceiling flickered and popped in a shower of sparks, plunging the study into a bruised, smoky twilight. "What... what did you..." Kaelen wheezed, stumbling back against the mahogany desk, wweat broke out on his brow, his skin flushing a dark, angry red as his own blood boiled under the sudden pressure of his unfiltered power. "I gave you back what belongs to you," I whispered, walking toward him, I wasn't afraid. I was the only thing in the world he couldn't burn, "You want to be a King? Then carry the weight of the Zenith Crown yourself, I’m taking the only thing that actually kept you sane,

Lucien stiffened, “My lord—” “You will not touch her... “ I said evenly, “.... You will not hunt her, and you will not think... Of claiming her power... “ My gaze locked onto his, “... Anything concerning the girl is mine to decide” Lucien bowed his head immediately, “As you command my lord”. The forest then shifted, I scented it, rotting hunger, madness in disguise. *Ferals* Seven of them. “They have smelled it“ lucien mummured. “Yes, they have... “ I replied, “... And more will follow.

The scene changed again. We were in the suite in the villa. He heard me pounding on the door with all my strength, screaming for help until my voice broke. He clutched his head, shaking. "No… That's not how it was… I didn't…" The scene shifted once more. It was the night before the final exams. Wendy came to me with red, tearful eyes, begging me to help her cheat. I refused without hesitation, and then, everything unfolded, from how she found those thugs, how she staged it all, how she framed me step by step.