Glass Throne Series In Order Novels & Stories

Turning back to the patiently waiting lady, Gemma hesitantly put one step forward on the next glass step before quietly asking. “Who are you? Where am I?” “Come my love. Let us have a moment to rest before the question begins. I am sure you are tired and thirsty from all that running you did” Her voice musical and sweet Grasping the glass banner of the spiral staircase, Gemma walked the remainder of stairs up to where the lady stood, still her hands open in welcome. As she reached the top stair, the platform which had been made of glass, now had two long white chairs, along with plump golden cushions and a gold table in the middle. Behind the chairs were gold and white material interwoven in

I watched the woman’s eyes go wide as she took in the red, high ceiling of the throne room and the gold cups of the snake-like chandelier that was swinging slowly in the space. “It's beautiful,” The maiden gasped, walking up to the glossy shine of the gold glass walls and scrubbing it back to its shine when her breathing fogged up the pale yellow glass. I followed her tentative steps, touching each gold-lined crevice until we were at the foot of the great dias where my throne was. Small silver skulls lined the frame of the square seat where the diamond had been matted with brown fur.

No writing, no instructions, just empty parchment. Disappointment crashed over me until I noticed something. In the moonlight filtering through my window, faint silver letters began to appear on the first page, glowing with the same light as my pendant. To my dearest Aria, If you’re reading this, then I am gone, and the time has come for you to know the truth. You are not broken, my sweet girl. You are powerful beyond measure. You are the last surviving heir of the Silvermoon Royal Bloodline. The curse I placed on you was born of love and desperation. I knew they would come for us. I knew we couldn’t escape. So I made you invisible, made you appear so worthless that no one would see the thre

Nothing can interfere with what I’ve already achieved—the dominion that is now mine. With my right hand, Fenrer, by my side, I walk toward the throne room. The space is vast and majestic, adorned with paintings of the kings who came before me. At the far end stands a massive stone throne atop a grand, elevated platform with a marble staircase leading to it. Behind the throne, the wall is made entirely of stained-glass depicting the phases of the moon. I take in the scene prepared by my soldiers—cameras positioned strategically, lights focused on the throne. I stop in front of it, admiring its grandeur, its power, it's meaning.

The mortar that bound the stones carried flecks of battlefield ash, a silent promise that their sacrifice would never be forgotten. Where the legendary Nightglass Throne once loomed, an obsidian seat carved to resemble a crown of icicles, now stood a simpler chair: fashioned from blackened moonwood and braided phoenix feathers, veins of gold running through its curves. It neither towered nor dazzled. It waited.

By 8:00 PM, the transformation was complete. Iza stood before the three-way mirror in the master suite. She was wearing a gown of midnight blue silk, draped so perfectly it hid her pregnancy while accentuating the regal line of her neck. Around her throat was a collar of sapphires—not a gift from Dark, but a piece she had demanded from the Thorne vault. It felt like armor.

If we ever found ourselves on opposing sides of a conflict, he wouldn't think twice about crushing me. The four kings and their heirs occupy the rest of the chairs: Pakstan of the North with Pharaoah, Theo of the South with Thorn, River of the East, and me, and lastly, Nathan of the fuckin' West with his second son, Elliot. The latter gives me a scowl, and I return it without blinking. He is a little younger than father in age, but he is still tall, and his grey eyes are exceedingly penetrating. Without sure, he is the one who proposed Bella be wed to one of his kids, who are more repulsive than he is.

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.

The colossal sentinel trees had been completely stripped of their organic life, their trunks and sprawling branches transformed into a translucent, brittle glass that caught the pale morning light and fractured it into thousands of cold, blinding needles. Towering over the valley floor was the main western gate of the Glen—a pair of massive, sixty-foot valves forged from heavy, enchanted glass and reinforced with silver veins. Running upward from the tips of those gates, stretching across the entirety of the horizon like an inverted ocean, was the Aegis of Glass. The ward was visible to the naked eye, a continuous, shimmering dome of iridescent purple and gold energy that hummed with a low,