Ivory Throne Book Novels & Stories

“I’m right here.” I pulled my hand away before he could touch me. “I, Elara Thorne,” I began. The name Thorne hit the crowd like a physical blow. I heard gasps everywhere. Rowan went pale, his jaw dropping. “Elara Thorne?” Aiden whispered, confused. “What are you talking about?” I ignored him and continued, my voice growing stronger. “Rightful heir of the Nightshade Pack and daughter of the true King, hereby reject Aiden Blackwood as my fated mate.”

“If you don’t show, they’ll see it as weakness.” “And if I do show?” “Then you make a statement. That you’re powerful, allied with Blackthorn, and not to be trifled with.” He pulled me close. “I’ll be with you every step.” “This is getting complicated.” “It was always going to be complicated. You’re royalty, Aria. People are going to have opinions about that.” His hand cupped my face. “But you’re not alone. You have me. You have Blackthorn. And apparently, we’re about to have Mountain Ridge too.”

I placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at me again. “He can try,” I said softly. “But he’ll fail.” He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch for a brief moment. “Just… don’t let him separate us.” “I won’t.” I threaded my fingers through his and pushed the doors open. *** Inside the Throne Hall The hall stretched endlessly—columns carved with wolves, sharp metal banners hanging like spears from above, and a floor of polished obsidian. At the far end sat a throne of black stone and gold veins.

Rosy fell backwards into the bed, collapsing spread-eagled on the bed, tears already welling up in her eyes. I wonder how Luca is. She thought absentmindedly to herself. Her outstretched fingers grazed something, and she looked at it to see what it was. A book. That wasn’t there before, she thought, sitting up and retrieving the book from between the throw pillows. The book in her hands, she flipped through its yellowish pages, shocked to discover it was the children's book she had with her when she was dumped on the orphanage steps. It wasn't just a copy, it was exactly the same.

"The last to stand before the Hollow Crown." Myrra tensed. "You keep saying that. What is the Hollow Crown?" For the first time, Varic hesitated. Rael stepped forward. "The throne is a door," he said, voice steady despite the fear curling in his chest. "That’s what the book says. And now, whatever was behind it is waking up, isn’t it?" A slow nod. "The First King did not build the throne to rule," Vame said. "He built it to hold. To contain the thing that should not be. But power is a hunger. And the kings that followed did not understand what they sat upon."

The throne was built on the ashes of the seven humans who initiated the war and the skull of their leader mounted on top, a reminder of what's to come if the humans try to go to war with them again. Walking up to the throne, I pause and look at it, a remainder of all the responsibilities I had on my shoulders, the weight of the world. My crown rested on the armrest, gleaming under the sunlight filtering in from the windows, the crown has 10 gems, each representing a pack. With a sigh I sat on the throne and waited for the arrival of the humans as they were led in. Lyra walks in not long after offering me a curt nod then taking her sit in one of the four chairs in front of me.

Liam smiled at me. "They've arranged your throne, future queen Daliah." I nodded joyfully as we settled, side by side, ready to face whatever the letter revealed. As two thrones stood side by side, they emanated an air of regality that complemented the grandeur of the throne room. The intricately carved designs adorned the arms and backrests, depicting scenes from the kingdom's rich history. The material, a rich mahogany, gleamed under the ambient torchlight, casting a warm and inviting glow.

The glyph projected a shape, not a man, not a creature, but a throne. A throne made of shadows, moonlight, and starlight woven together—three parts. Triad and Convergent. The original throne. The First Throne. Alessia’s heart pounded. She whispered, “The Architect wasn’t trying to create power.” “He was trying to reclaim it,” Selene finished. The throne pulsed again. —Descendant. —Bearer. —Claim what was denied. Kael stepped in front of her. “No,” he said firmly. “She’s not touching that.”

I run a finger along the edge of the throne admiring the beauty under me. It’s ethereal. The gems reflect the lights as my fingers expose them in a tiny pattern to the light above me. The throne speaks power in itself, and as my finger brushes the surface I feel the surge of light in me; a surge to make people understand how rightfully I deserve the power.

Today, they took this walk together, and to her, the thrones awaiting them at the end were not half as important as the man next to her. Yes, the thrones. Once different like day and night, one black, one gold, they were now a matching pair. Nathaniel had made himself clear in this regard: Katherine's throne had to be just as big as his own and of similar form. Yet the craftsman had taken his freedom on the material, surprising everyone. Beside the obsidian throne with the sharp black icicles on top, stood a throne out of glass. Minuscle diamonds, inlaid in the lean, fractured the sunlight that shone through the windows on the left and filled the whole, formerly dark hall with sparkles of li