Ivory Throne Book Novels & Stories

“The council is ready.” Seraphine closed her eyes briefly. Then she turned. Inside the throne hall, a long stone table stretched across the chamber. Torches burned along the walls, their flames flickering across ancient banners that represented each race. At the head of the hall stood the throne. It had not existed before the war. The throne had been carved from the black crystal that remained after the Veil nearly shattered. Veins of silver light pulsed through the stone like a living heartbeat. It was not just a seat of power.

It was only a matter of time before his entire body succumbed to the flames. The throne room was silent. It was like everyone was holding their breath for the young prince, saying their goodbyes. I kept my eyes on my nephew, the last honor I could give him before he passed, when suddenly, light like I've never seen before began spreading in the room. The light seemed to have a life of its own as it went into Avani. Murmurs broke out in the throne room and all eyes turned to the werewolf girl, still kneeling on the floor, her eyes fixed on my nephew.

And then—movement. A glow began at the far end of the cavern. Firelight, flickering red. I forced my feet forward, toward the throne they spoke of in stories. Each step echoed, too loud. My pulse pounded between my legs. The chamber opened wide, a cathedral of stone. And there—at the center—rose a throne carved from obsidian, slick and glistening like wet flesh. He sat upon it. And every fantasy I had ever nursed shriveled before the reality of him.

Her Throne has never been shook before. The Third Throne, the West: ruled by Morrigan. She and Akasha are close friends. The second woman in the council. Her feminine rage is not to be tampered with. The Fourth Throne, the south: ruled by Atticus. He's the only friend I have in the council, the only one who's ever shown care and understands the pain I passed through, and certainly the only one who speaks in my favour anytime Marcellus objects me. The ladies are neutral, painfully.

“Debt. Memory. Potential. You broke hierarchy now shape what replaces it.” --- Araya — The New Throne The black flame pulsed, then breathed. Ash swirled and fused bone white lines veined in gold and shadow rising into a seat from ruin. Fresh runes inked themselves along its base, whispering in a new tongue. Dorian’s light caught its edge in a clean halo. “It’s alive.” “It’s listening.” Nyxara prowled, tail lashing. Every throne waits for a name. Give it none. Make it guess.

The Throne shatters and grows in the same breath, spines twisting like serpents. And in the heart of it— Us. Burning. Breaking. Becoming. The Throne roars a promise in my skull: If I can’t have you, I’ll take HER. And then— Everything goes white.

There standing in front of me is a tall white throne, one equal to the size of the throne in the court halls but different with the design. This throne has arch curves carved in to the seat and there are frost blur gems buried in each curves, gems the color of my eyes. The arm rests of the throne are also white but white flower designs crawl around them. The seat id wide enough for me, as if it's molded only for me and me alone.

When Issei open his eyes all he can see is darkness, but there's a single throne adorned with human skulls and the color of the throne is pitch black. And he can see a girl sat upon that throne, who's looking straight at him and she has a wicked smile on her beautiful face.

“Your Grace, we need to kill Shuntha,'' Seti walked alongside Raiden as he made his way to the icy throne. The throne wasn’t made of ice but metal that was painted white, it was almost a century old. It didn’t rust, it wasn’t worn down, the paint wasn’t chipped, and it looked like it had just been crafted. Five fairies that were part of the kingdom forged the throne with magic, the fairies were once respected and loved; until King Atticruss and Queen, Tressa feared them and spread hatred amongst the people.

Prince at the back of his mind decided that it was something he was going to practice if he leaves the place. The gorgeous throne was made of pure gold and diamonds. And it keeps blinking all the time. The hue of the throne was changing. It was the Prince's first time seeing such a throne. There were some antique manuscripts that Prince had previously seen. He opened his eyes too close to study the writings. The old writings on the throne were the same as the ancient writings in front of the Ancient home on Petit Island. Prince was perplexed why the writings on Petit Island and the writings on the Green Island throne should be the same. What is going on, and what is the secret?