Gavriel Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

He reiterated my exact words defensively. "Do you not realize the implication of that? You've been in mermaid waters before." The only sound now was from Philip. Then I choked. "What?" I was the most curious. I mean, I had to be. I had almost no idea about myself so every little thing I discovered made me feel better. The scales on my back was on the list of things Tiberius and I kept from the council. And trust me, there was more. "You've been in mermaid waters." She repeated. "At some point in your life, you lived or visited mermaid waters so your blood automatically qualifies as antidote since you have a touch of mermaid."

And there it stood. The Blood Throne. It was carved from obsidian, veins of red crystal pulsing through it like a beating heart. The floor was cracked around it, as though the throne had erupted from the earth. Before it knelt a man. Or what was left of one. He was bone and ash wrapped in black robes. His hair was silver, his skin like charred marble. He did not look up—he only whispered in a language none of them understood. Aelin whimpered. “He’s trying to bind to me. To make me sit.”

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.

Standing in front of the raised dais of the throne was King Tobias, his son, Prince Leonidas, and the Royal Beta, Malcolm, all three of them dressed richly and wearing looks of cold indifference. I stepped through the doorway, with two other Alphas flanking me, their betas and Dave just behind us, and a collective gasp went through the room, all eyes drawing to the glass window behind the throne. What had been clear glass before was now becoming stained glass. The deep blues and purples and greens and reds returned to the masterpiece, restoring it to how it had been, how each of us had seen it represented in our history books. It started slowly, from the edges of the masterpiece, the colors

Elara’s POV The air crackled with power. Elara stood frozen as the wraiths remained kneeling, their hollow eyes fixed on her. The weight of their expectation pressed against her chest, stealing the breath from her lungs. “Take the throne, Elara.” “You were always meant to rule.” Their whispers twisted through her mind, wrapping around her like an invisible chain. The longer she stood there, the more the magic of Valmere seeped into her bones. The throne—her mother’s throne—loomed before her, a beacon of darkness and power. A throne carved from obsidian, veins of molten gold pulsing like a heartbeat beneath its surface. It was alive. It was waiting.

Luna Eero shook her head. “I am sure that throne room only exists in my dreams. Maybe I am just excited about the day to come when I'll see Claudius on the realm's throne, hence why I am dreaming of it. I often think about it.” “Or perhaps there's a throne room that awaits your presence,” I said in a low voice. “What is it, Cielo?” She asked curiously. “I said tell me more about this throne room,” I tempted her. “There's a huge stained-glass window behind the throne itself. The throne was made of uhm gold and on the backrest of it was a howling head of a dire wolf.”

Serenya took the first step inside. The throne room glowed with braziers, though the light only sharpened shadows clinging to the gilded pillars. Thalric Veynor sat upon the throne itself, his lips curling into a predator’s smile as his black eyes fixed on her. He rose, his voice echoing across marble. “Ah, the ghost returns.” He spread his arms, mockery dripping from every syllable. “We had begun to think the last Vale blood had gone to ash. But here you stand—Serenya Vale, child of twilight.”

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

Vivienne Laurent had learned long ago how to disappear in plain sight. She stood at the far end of the ballroom, beneath a crystal chandelier that glittered like a frozen constellation, holding a champagne flute she had no intention of drinking. The glass tower of Laurent International loomed beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, its mirrored surface reflecting the city lights below. From a distance, she looked like exactly what she was supposed to be: a poised billionaire heiress, draped in silk, her dark hair swept into an elegant twist.

she started and there was tension in the air. Everywhere went silent and even Gabriel kept quiet. He might have asked for forgiveness but is he ready to let go of the throne for Hunter now that he is blind? I had asked myself that question countless times before I got here. “I won’t.” He answered. Every one of us knows how hard Gabriel had tried to take over the throne for himself but he could not. Saying he wouldn’t look like a death sentence to us but surprisingly he scaled through. “Passed. Next question,” The strange woman smiled.