Novel & Cerita Maeve Throne Of Glass

“We will prioritize how we are going to take down the vampires and werewolves. Surely, Xellaena will not be bothered by that.” “Xellaena Xavier is a peace-loving bitch, Maebh,” Ludwig remarked. “I know. That’s why we are going to attack the vampires without really incapacitating them.” Maebh’s piercing gaze seems to linger deep into her bones. Does Rozelyn’s cloaking spell don't work? Or is Maebh more powerful than she thought? “The other Heathen Queens: Xellaena, Feyraj, and Tamara doesn’t know that you are the Blood Mistress, that you are Mary Bathory’s daughter and that— ”

--The Nydisian Kingdom, Eraregord, Royal Academy-- "Dane, comprise a list of your best students and have them submit their names to be before tomorrow at noon," Lucian ordered as he took a seat in the headmaster's study. Dane was a tall yet lean man with olive skin tone and piercing red eyes, the colour eyes most vampires seemed to have. "Consider it done, Milord. Do you still wish to hold the tournament?" The headmaster, Dane, asked. His Highness had sent word to him a few days ago that he'd be arriving in a week's time to gather the academy's best as well as strongest fighters.

A flame leapt from her palm, wrapping Ava in golden heat. The Alphas surged forward—but were frozen by the Hollow One’s breath. Ava screamed once— But the fire didn’t consume her. It revealed her. The Fifth Mark bloomed over her heart—white and violet. Not belonging to any throne. But above them all. The Shadow King whispered: “She is not born. She is not made. She is chosen by ruin and rebirth.” The Fifth Throne The fifth throne cracked open. And light poured out. Blinding. Endless.

They could smile at me all they wanted, and I would simply smile back. "Bring my niece here," Uisdean called from his gigantic throne. The throne was carved from obsidian and polished to look like glass. Uisdean sat in it casually; one arm draped over the table in front of him while he sipped from a goblet of wine. At least, I hoped it was wine. The wall behind him was covered in black, thorny, thick vines and hanging from them was a banner with a device embroidered on it, just like the one in the Twilight Castle. Except this device had a silver moon instead of a star and its background was completely black.

The second was; the scene displaying right before her eyes wasn't sure of a good ending. "Luna, here's the drink you-"A maid chirped scurrying over to her. Even before she could fully reach her, she slammed her hand on the tray and the two glasses of drinks that was meant for her husband and her, fell on the floor and shattered into pieces. ~Present~

"The chemical is backing up into the archives. The operator must be removed before the machine bursts." The chimney did not fall over. It split open like a paper. Under the torque of the machine, the steel plates split down the middle, dropping Elara into an empty space. The world was entirely green like the inside of a machine when it is turned on. And floating in the center of the green void, was the Second Queen. She didn't have her porcelain mask now, her human face was whole, but her eyes were two open, circular coin-slots that were spinning with thousands of tiny, silver-printed numbers that recorded the exact value of Elara’s remaining bone-marrow in maritime pounds.

Paul—or whoever he was—lay there with his throat opened up, eyes staring at the ceiling in a permanent state of shock. Words from my childhood rang in my head: They will find you later. Just stay low. Don’t do anything stupid. Fuck! They had found me. My past had caught up with me. Yes, I, Thalia Thorne, held a secret. I wasn’t human. I was born into the wrong part of the hierarchy. In the Great North, your eyes are your destiny. Gold eyes are Gemini—the royalty. Blue eyes are Capricorn—the servants. But then there are the ones like me. A dark-eyed cub with a cancer mark—an abomination. Black eyes. The ones who didn’t get to live.