Iron Throne Books Novels & Stories

Mom chuckled and gave him a flying kiss. "Geez, I don't wanna see you guys flirt anymore. I am done. Goodnight dear folks." They wished me back as I went upstairs in my room. Taking a shower, I sat down at my bed. My gaze fell over the book kept on the table. Right, I should start with the assignment. "Myth of The Broken Throne". I mumbled opening the book. The pages were yellowish, a little tattered on the corners, clearing showing how old it was. Nonetheless, the classic vibes were all I needed to jump into the story.

For good or utter ruin. Behind me, grandfather brooded in his leather chair before the crackling hearth, face etched with hard lines by the dancing flames. Our empire navigated treacherous straits indeed. But still he refused to speak first, ceding the opening move to me in this newest round of appointments and power plays. The game of thrones intensified among Avalon’s mighty. I turned to face the leaping shadows and swirling amber of my glass. “The Titans mean to test my mettle for themselves through an ordeal by crucible. Success earns their blessing. Failure...”

“You are my Beta, yet you patrol around to save this rotten thing without my orders. Do you know what it means to be my right-hand man?” Tyrion nodded. “I studied a lot about it before taking the exams, so that makes me capable of knowing what it is to be your Beta.” Another heavy blow from the Prince this time. Tyrion spitted out blood. I felt so sorry for him that he was passing through this just because he helped me, although it wasn't more than what I've passed through because of him. Kiah knocked my head, drawing my attention towards her. “You must be glad for what you just caused. Just know that Tyrion won't let you go scot-free after this….” she shunned me and scowled, stepping backwa

“If that is so, why are you bothering with entertaining a discussion with me? Their Light Fay Priestesses are not mine to control, and neither are the angels they are protecting. What I do or do not do has no relevance to you.” “The realm of the earth will be ours, regardless of what you do or do not do.” “And my daughter will make sure that you do not succeed.” End of Book 1 === Coming soon (ongoing): The Hunted Wolf (Eva’s book) Blue Thunder: Forging the Legend (book 2) Biting the Eternal Love (Veronica’s book) In plans (plot outlines in development): Gus’s book (no title yet) Blue Thunder: Raising the Legacy (book 3)

He scrutinized it for a long time before saying, "I wouldn't have expected any less of a proper lady of the Chapman family. Your embroidery is top-notch." Something occurred to him, and he pulled out a green moonstone pendant from his sleeve. He gave it to me. "My mother gave this to me, saying that it would keep me safe. I've kept it with me all these years while battling our enemies. I'll give it to you now if you don't mind having it." I saw streaks of blood on the pendant and knew that it had been with Gideon through many life-and-death situations. How could I possibly accept it?

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.

“What is coming?” Thorne looked up. And his eyes were storm-dark. “The war. Between the old gods and the bloodless kings. Between Lycan law… and prophecy buried in ash.” Elara stared down at the still-glowing book. She had come searching for answers. But she had found a legacy burning like fire in her hands. A crown carved from silence, sealed in blood. And it had already chosen her.

"Cressen had wisdom." "I trusted in his wisdom and your wiles, and what did they avail me, smuggler? The storm lords sent you packing. I went to them a beggar and they laughed at me. Well, there will be no more begging, and no more laughing either. The Iron Throne is mine by rights, but how am I to take it? There are four kings in the realm, and three of them have more men and more gold than I do. I have ships . . . and I have her. The red woman. Half my knights are afraid even to say her name, did you know? If she can do nothing else, a sorceress who can inspire such dread in grown men is not to be despised. A frightened man is a beaten man. And perhaps she can do more. I mean to find out.

"That's a lie!" Oren ignored him and turned the page. "The Stoneclaw Lord conspires with human merchants to smuggle forbidden drugs..." "The Ironfang Lord's eldest son is in fact the son of his younger brother..." "Enough!" several lords roared at once. Oren snapped the book shut, his eyes glinting with mockery. "My Lord, I believe the word you used was...'rabble'?" The square fell deathly silent. This was no mere band of mercenaries. This was a vast, shadowy power with a terrifying intelligence network.

The key slid inside easily with a metallic groan. Beyond the gate, the air changed. Heavier. Charged. Shelves warped with age, scrolls bound in wolf hide, tomes inked in ancient bloodline dialects. There was something dark that pulled her inside. Her fingers trembled as she scanned the shelves until one title pulsed in the low firelight. "Prophecies of the Shattered Thrones." She opened it carefully. The parchment crackled. And there it was. A single passage written in red... "When the flame returns, crowned or chained, she shall awaken the power of her bloodline and bring the tyrant to his knees. She who bears the mark shall bind or break the cursed throne."