Ivory Throne Book Novels & Stories

The twisted branches intertwine, forming an intricate lattice that symbolized the king's dominion over the natural world. “My father sat on it, and now, I will sit on it tomorrow,” Dominic said and Erica felt a hint of defeat in his tone. “why do you hate the throne? It is beautiful, and it looks like it was made just for you,” Glistening with ethereal enchantments, the throne was adorned with shimmering gemstones that seemed to hold captured fragments of starlight. Each gem pulsed with a vibrant, ever-changing hue, reflecting the myriad facets of the king's untamed nature. The armrests were fashioned in the likeness of fearsome beasts, their fierce eyes seemingly alive, and their intricate

I sighed and leaned back and heard something click behind me. Quickly sitting upright, I turned to see what had made the sound and realized that the fake pillow had moved! Another click echoed through the room and this time a compartment opened in the armrest of the enormous cement throne. I took a peek and inside there was a book. An ancient book by the looks of things. I looked at Freya with wide eyes and then looked at the book again.

She sighed, shaking her head as she glanced around, the memory of those four malnourished children gnawing at her insides. The doors at the end of the grand hallway groaned open, revealing the throne room—a vast chamber lined with towering columns wrapped in gold leaf. At its center, the throne sat atop a raised dais, an imposing seat of ivory and lapis, its armrests carved into the heads of twin lions.

I smiled inwardly at the throne & thought that Evie was very lucky to have such a beautiful chair that was happy to see its master. We approached the throne and I gawked at its beauty once more in full detail. Evie must have saw me eyeing her chair because she twirled her finger and magically placed me in the throne. To my surprise, the throne lit up, exuding yellow & green light from the diamonds that were aligned beside the emeralds; I was amazed while Evie just smiled. I got up from the throne and I could've sworn I heard the chair sigh, so I rubbed it and it glowed again.

One of them quickly took off the black cloth concealing the thing they carried. After the cloth was taken off, all came to see that it was a golden throne with statues of two hickory-coloured, standing, pissed wolves serving as armrests. "Boy, that throne is... how do I put it?" Dante excitedly mind linked Zyair. "It's something never brought out on the day of a champion's crowning as Alpha King," the latter responded. Dante nodded with a smile, "Yeah, that's it. Jeez!"

I pushed him over the edge. Sebastian's face twisted in rage as he bellowed, "Out! Get out now!" The door slammed shut behind me. I let out a wry chuckle, picked up a stray garment from the floor, and tucked it into my suitcase. In the dimly lit room of the grand villa, Rosa's voice trembled with a mix of urgency and regret. "Don, this is all my fault. I've put you in such a tough spot. Maybe I should just hand the title of Mrs. back to Ms. DeLuca?"

Nyla’s POV I tried to concentrate on the dancing shadows in the room's corners by blinking. I had to breathe more shallowly because the air seemed heavy, like it was crushing against my chest. In front of me, Auren's eyes glowed dangerously brightly. The throne, a massive, twisted seat composed of bone and obsidian that towered like some dark king's chair, loomed behind him. I experienced an odd tug as soon as I saw it. It was an old, black, and strong throne. Despite my inner want to turn and go, I was unable to take my eyes off it.

Ivy’s Vision She stood in a throne room of fire and ash. Atop the throne sat a woman—radiant, terrifying, crowned in shadows and flame. Isla. At her feet knelt two children. One with Ivy’s golden eyes. The other with Killian’s haunting gray. “Choose,” Isla hissed. “One to live. One to die.” Ivy screamed and ran forward—but her feet wouldn’t move. The Isla in the vision stood, walking slowly toward her. “You cannot split what was made as one. There will always be war inside them. Unless…”

The harbor. The kingdom. The ocean. Gone. Then Thomas found himself standing inside a vast golden chamber. Endless. Silent. Ancient. Rows of towering pillars stretched beyond sight. Golden flames burned without heat. And at the center stood a throne. A black throne. Wrong. Everything about it felt wrong. The throne didn't belong there. Then someone moved. A figure sitting upon it. Waiting. Watching. Then the figure slowly stood. Tall. Powerful. Ancient armor covered his body.

At the center of the floor stood the Gilded Throne, an ornate seat carved from solid ivory and wrapped in gold leaf, meant to symbolize the eternal light of the South. Silas didn't sit on it. He stood right beside the platform, leaning his towering, nine-foot-frame's human form against the armrest with a casual, insulting disregard. He had finally stripped off his heavy combat armor, wearing only a dark, fur-lined tunic that left the thick cords of his neck and the jagged scars on his forearms exposed. His amber eyes never stopped tracking the grand entrance, his predatory instincts still coiled tight despite the absolute silence of the palace.