King Triton Throne Novels & Stories

Or surrender? Above him, seated arrogantly on the high throne, Thalric Veynor lounged like a wolf satisfied after slaughter. His dark cloak spilled across the armrests, edged with silver thread as though mocking the very crown he sought to steal. At his side, a jagged spear leaned casually against the throne, still slick with fresh blood.

"Ethan, do you promise to respect Isla's gifts, to support her dreams, and to walk beside her for all your days?" "I do," Ethan said, his hand tightening on mine. "I promise to love all of her, including her strength and her independence." We exchanged the moonstone bracelets. The very same ones that had been stolen and returned. Silver light shimmered on our wrists. "By the power of the Moon Goddess, I now pronounce you Mated." Ethan leaned in and gave me a soft, tender kiss. Applause and blessings erupted around us. "Congratulations!" "So beautiful!" "May you have a lifetime of happiness!"

Oh, now I see, you were playing games, trying to make me jealous. "Enough of this, let's sort out the mess at the company first." I passed the bouquet to the bridesmaid and shrugged off Sebastian's grasp. "I'm here for the wedding. You guys can fix your own mess." Sebastian's annoyance was palpable as he looked up sharply. "Is this wedding really more important than our family's legacy? We've both apologized. How long are you going to drag this out?" He sounded so noble, but if he had not let Rosa's antics slide, we would not be in this mess.

Ryder The throne room was silent. Not empty, never empty, but quiet in the way only absolute authority could command. A vast hall of carved stone and silver-veined marble stretched out before me, lit by towering torches whose flames bent themselves in respect rather than flicker freely. And at the very center, raised on a dark platform of shadow and granite. I sat on my throne. A throne forged generations ago, carved from the ancient spine of the mountain pack lands and reinforced with black iron and shadowsteel.

He reiterated my exact words defensively. "Do you not realize the implication of that? You've been in mermaid waters before." The only sound now was from Philip. Then I choked. "What?" I was the most curious. I mean, I had to be. I had almost no idea about myself so every little thing I discovered made me feel better. The scales on my back was on the list of things Tiberius and I kept from the council. And trust me, there was more. "You've been in mermaid waters." She repeated. "At some point in your life, you lived or visited mermaid waters so your blood automatically qualifies as antidote since you have a touch of mermaid."

The look in their eye was enough to tell me how highly respected Rhoda was. Their murmurings filled the air, silent whispers of ‘Luna Rhoda’ and ‘the divine Luna’ traveled cross my ears with the wind. My heart melted seeing them worship their Luna in such manner. Or whom they thought their Luna was. Garrisons hand tightened around mine as he led me to the front. There were three thrones stationed at the end of the hall. All made of golden spears which glistened as the rays of the sun beat against it. I was almost blinded by it’s perfection. It was much bigger than that in Riverie. Made with finer precious stones and color. I let out a sigh as we arrived the throne.

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

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.”

Between each banner stand several tapers of various sizes, almost all of them have been lit and turn illuminate the sculptures of heroes and leaders below them. Thick, tinted glass windows are edged by drapes colored the same onyx as the banners. The curtains have been adorned with embellished borders and fine patterns. A radiant throne of granite sits atop an elevated platform and is adjoined by two almost identical seats for those closest to the royal highness. The throne is covered in symbolic illustrations and fixed on each of the broad feet is an elegant demon wing, with two spears hung at the back of the throne. The broad pillows are a dark onyx and these too have been adorned with emb

and then they land on something that knocks the air right out of my lungs. At the far end of the hall, raised high above the floor, sits a massive platform—and on it, three thrones. My mouth goes dry. The middle throne is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Made of black iron, towering, cold, powerful. Etched with moons, wolves, and ancient symbols I can’t even read. Even empty, it radiates authority. Darkness. Strength. That throne belongs to someone who doesn’t ask for power—they are power.