Glass Throne Series In Order Novels & Stories

At the room’s center stood a raised platform, and upon it, a pedestal. And on that pedestal, something glowed. Elior stepped forward, his breath caught in his throat. It was a crown. Not like the one he carried, the First Crown, bound in iron and restraint. This one was different. It shimmered with a faint, otherworldly light, its silver surface untouched by age. At its center, embedded in the metal, was a single blue gemstone that pulsed like a heartbeat. Myrra inhaled sharply. “The Second Crown.”

please don't tell me those guys kidnap her "Lord please that's the last thing I want to happen right now," I said to myself as I felt a somewhat metal-like object on my neck and I began to shiver "Turn around" I hear the voice say "Oh boy .. please lord, I don't wanna die right now. I don't have kids yet. I haven't fallen in love, and Kira is still missing.I haven't even tasted macaroni salad before, I still want to taste... please please please don't let me die" I started saying to God with my eyes hardly shut I don't think any key can open it then I heard a familiar voice

At the center attach to it was a big yellow stone about the size of her thumb, holding the whole jewelry in place were flawless diamonds in a perfect single row. "Do you like it?" Mish's eyes glowed with happiness. "I have chosen it for you." "I love it so much!" The girls all grinned. Eyes misty. Michael coughed, uncomfortable with the mushy stuff. They all giggled. These powerful men hate it when they cry. Alexander rose to his feet, bubbly champagne glasses were distributed around the table. His beta stood by his side. The pups were crawling and wobbling around the private room, supervised by at least five nannies.

The grandest chandelier she had ever seen hung elegantly above the center of the room. After regaining her composure, Katherine's eyes fell on the man that was seated at the head of the dining table. Katherine's heartbeat sped up a little as she didn't expect him to be so good-looking. Although it didn't change the fact that his aura was undeniably cold and intense which scared her. The man was wearing a thin nordic tunic bandage shirt that barely covered the top muscles of his chest. The man was incredibly well built, she could see his chest muscles flex through his shirt as he drank the red-coloured liquid in his cup.

"Silas said to tell you that Silvercrest plays with stolen coins. Tonight, we make them pay the tax." The lid of the trunk swings back. Even in the dim, bleeding emergency light, the contents make my breath hitch. Nestled within layers of protective black velvet is the Shattered Mirror. The silver threads seem to catch the ambient darkness itself, humming with that faint, ghostly luminescence I locked into the core with my own blood. It looks alive. It looks dangerous. And laid right beside it, wrapped in silk, is a gown.

The deafening, continent-shaking roar of the ninety percent slowly dulled to a muffled, ambient hum as the heavy white glass doors of the Grand Balcony sealed shut. The transition from the blinding, golden-violet sky back into the pristine, climate-controlled sanctuary of the Silver Spire was jarring. Jack practically floated across the polished chrome floor of the antechamber. He reached up with trembling, glowing fingers and gently lifted the Crown of the Iron Barrens from his silver hair. He held the kinetic silver circlet in his hands, staring at the inlaid pink hard-light crystals.

I stand between Alec and Magnus and allow them to take an arm on either side of me and smile. ‘Both of you, it will be then,’ I grin. We enter the great hall together, arm in arm. Magnus and Alec are proud as they escort me toward the thrones. I beam with surprise as I notice three thrones instead of the two I saw earlier, but these three are different and much more beautiful than I could ever imagine. The smaller glimmering throne sits between the two larger ones. They are made from some kind of semitransparent precious stone. They are opalescent in shades of dark blue and silver. I smile up at Alec.

“Move it about two inches to the left. It’s tilting toward the window.” Ronan shifts the frame, tapping a small nail into the wall with total precision. “How’s it looking now?” “Perfect,” I say, nodding in approval. “Get down from there. We need to go over the lighting for the primary treaty glass case. The Southern alphas are going to be standing right in front of it tomorrow night, and I want the gold seals on the letter to catch the light properly.” For the next three hours, Ronan and I work in total, productive harmony.

“Then kneel.” He knelt, and she lifted from the table a small silver circlet shaped of twisted wire, an heirloom of pain and pride. She placed it lightly against his shoulder; the metal’s edges drew a bead of blood that welled bright against his skin. “By the blood that binds and the wound that wakes,” she said, “the Thorn names its heir.” Applause scattered, hesitant. Antonio felt the air shift; a new gravity settled around Gabrielle like invisible armor. Cordelia bent close, her breath warm against his ear.