Loki On Throne Novels & Stories

An old man, clad in tattered robes, stepping forward with slow, measured steps. He stopped a few paces away, his gaze settling on Elior. “I know you,” the man rasped. “You are the one who shattered the Throne.” The man’s name was Orris, one of the last survivors of Dawnfire. He had seen the sky break, had felt the change ripple through the land. “The First King built the Throne for a reason,” he said. “It was never just a seat of power. It was a cage.” A chill ran through Elior.

It had been a long and difficult journey, but in the end, we had emerged stronger and more united than ever. As the meal drew to a close, Alpha Lukerian stood up, his eyes shining with warmth and pride. He dinged the side of his glass getting everyones attention, "I have an announcement to make," he said, his voice ringing out across the table. "As you all know, our pack has been through a great deal in recent times. But through it all, one thing has remained constant: our love and loyalty for one another." He paused, looking around the table at our family and pack members. "And so, it is with great pleasure that I announce the appointment of our new Luna: Syla, the mother of our beloved Qua

So why does the loom say otherwise? My fingers twitch toward the thread again and this time I don’t hesitate. I grab it and yank hard. Magic slams into me like a wave. I’m not standing in the shrine anymore. I’m in a dream. A nightmare. A memory. A place that is all three at once. And Loki’s here too. Not in flesh, but in presence. Woven from shadow and light, tall and sharp and entirely too pleased with himself. “You touched it,” he says. “Curious girl. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to fight.”

God. The Lycan King stepped out from an adjoining room, a towel slung loosely around his waist, his damp hair falling over his forehead. Droplets of water trailed down his bare chest, accentuating the sculpted ridges of muscle beneath. He looked like a god—tall, powerful, and breathtakingly lethal. I had imagined a king in his late forties, someone graying and battle-worn. But Zane Valerian Blackhowl was young. Too young.

“You heard what we were told. Don’t annoy her.” Annoy me? While I was chained like a goat about to be roasted? Really? I pulled at the chains hard, just in case but nothing.. not even a small give. “Stop struggling, Princess,” the broken-tooth man said with an almost bored tone. “These chains were forged with silver. Even your wolf can’t break out of ’em.” My stomach dropped. “Princess..” one of them repeated dramatically, bowing at me with exaggerated flourish. “We know exactly who you are, Princess Aurielle Draqueen. Last heir of the Lycana bloodline.”

“This place is full of people you can’t trust. You can only trust me, at least for now. Not Damien. If he knows you’re not yet a wolf, he is going to fight to claim the throne and probably claim you are an Omega, and we don’t know that yet. If he decides to try and claim the throne, everything is against you. You don’t have any fight abilities, you’re not yet a full wolf—you’re going to lose. And you lose the throne along with it.” I nodded, understanding what he meant. But I thought to myself. Do I even want this throne? It seems like a deadly thing to fight for. Was I ready to fight for something so deep and important to these people? I just wanted to shut him out. I would think about it.

Elin said plotting how to get back to the old man next time in her mind. "Did you manage to finish everything?" Elin asked Louis "Of course, you didn't leave much for me to do anyway," Her cousin answered and Elin heard another wave of whispers from the corner again. The words 'did her work for her' and 'She ordered him' floated to her ears like keys to a puzzle. "Are those your minions?" Elin asked "They keep proclaiming themselves to own that title," Louis answered not seeming to care. "Those are Louis’ supporters. They're backing him up for the throne since word came out about him being a candidate so be careful around them Elin," Noah said seeming more than annoyed.

Real alarm. “Step away from it.” Liora froze at his tone. Then the throne called her name. Not aloud. Inside the chamber itself, in the mountain, and inside her. “Liora.” My body locked immediately. Because I heard it too. The voice carried through the cavern like breath moving beneath stone, ancient and impossibly powerful. The throne was alive. And it wanted her. Silver light exploded across the floor beneath Liora’s feet as the runes surrounding the throne ignited fully for the first time in centuries.

The throne appeared in the middle of the broken universe. It wasn’t made of gold. It wasn’t made of darkness. It was made of everything. Stars were woven into its arms. Shadows crawled across its back. Ancient symbols moved across the seat as if the throne itself were alive. Lucian stared at it. “What is that?” The First King answered calmly. “The throne of the First Blood.” Amara tightened her grip on Lucian’s hand. “And why did it appear?” The King looked toward her stomach.

Before I made the turn all the way around, I realized it wasn’t completely empty. Of course, he had a throne! A massive chair was the only decoration in the open space, placed at the very end with a gigantic black stony wall towering behind it. Small streams of water danced down over the rough and uneven surface. There were no lamps or even fire to see, but still, there was light here. Looking closer, I saw the small, white blinking light in between rocks on the wall, even on the roof above me. They looked like stars, giving this cold and vast space some magical feel to it. My attention traveled back to the throne and Loki. With a bored and lazy posture, his feet dangled over one armrest, an