Nehemia Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

"That's two legs, King. The stool's on the ground. All that's left is the time, and Rhee's moving faster than Crowe can. By tomorrow morning, Isaiah Crowe is going to be a man on a forty-two-foot boat with four soldiers and no city behind him." "And then?" I asked. Because I already knew and then. I wanted to hear the shape of it in her voice, so I'd know exactly what she was choosing, and exactly what she wasn't. "And then that part isn't mine," she said quietly, and looked out the windshield at the bright ugly Miami afternoon. "But I built you the room to do it in. Clean. No thread on you, no thread on me. I peeled him down to a man on a boat." Her jaw set. "The rest is between you and wha

"He'll like you." Something moved in his expression: warmth, genuine and unguarded, the kind he did not perform. "I hope so," he said. The afternoon light was moving through the study windows, crossing the floor in long warm strips. In three days she would stand in the chamber and the lycan world would rearrange itself around a truth that had been suppressed for thirty years. She would stand there with a name and a bloodline and a bond that was constitutionally complete and absolutely her own choice.

"Let her watch the lowlands drown from her seat." ​The grand throne room is a landscape of humiliation. ​The high, cracked glass windows look out over a lower courtyard that is entirely consumed by fire and blood, the black liquid shadow of Clyde’s wolf-spirit thrashing against a sea of western iron below. I am shoved onto the cold obsidian throne, my silver-cuffed wrists resting heavily on the stone armrests, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps as the silver poison burns through my skin. ​Diana paces before the dais, her grey silk kirtle trailing in the dust, her eyes fixed on the low, beautiful curve of my stomach. Malakai’s spies were thorough; she knows exactly why my fire is broken

Suddenly, two slender mechanical needles emerged from the arms of the throne and pierced into my wrists. I tried to scream in pain, but Gurudev gripped my shoulder firmly. “Stay still! This is the coronation ritual of the Moreno lineage. The throne is testing your blood. If you were not the true heir, this stone would have drained you to ashes by now.” Suddenly the bright lights of the palace faded and were replaced by a deep violet glow. The walls of the hall slowly began to slide apart. To my horror, I saw enormous glass chambers hidden behind them. And inside those chambers—

************** INT QUEEN NNEKA'S CHAMBER - NIGHT Queen Nneka reclines on a velvet chaise lounge, a crystal goblet filled with amber liquid held tightly in her hand. The chamber, adorned with opulent tapestries and flickering candlelight, echoes her fury and despair. Her eyes, a tempest of anger and heartache, are fixed on the shattered remnants of ancient jugs strewn across the floor. Her loyal maid, Daphne, kneels before her, her body trembling in the presence of the storm brewing within Nneka's heart. She gazes at Daphne, a mix of disdain and curiosity warring within her.

But it was Elara… It was Elara who walked into the heart of the fortress alone. The Throne of Nightglass sat untouched at the center of Kaer Nyx. No ruler had sat upon it since the last eclipse of the First Age. Its surface reflected not light, but truth—twisted, ancient, raw. When Elara approached, the flames behind her eyes flared. She sat. The stone did not burn her. It recognized her. And in that moment, every torch in the fortress lit with silver flame. Later, at the high table carved into the summit ledge, the final council met.

Nothing could compare to its beauty; it was a masterpiece, its crimson surface shimmering like blood in the sunlight pouring through the high windows. Standing before the crimson throne was a young woman, her fiery hair cascading like a waterfall of flames over her shoulders. Pyra, soon to be crowned Rhaella FireHeart, radiated an aura of strength and regality as she watched the crowd with her head raised high. Her purple gown hugged her growing belly, a testament to the next generation of FireHeart blood. Despite her delicate condition, she stood upright, exuding an unshakeable confidence and undeniable power.

Kaydence POV... Heth and I made it to the library just as Heather was walking in. Her eyes scanned Heth and then she smiled. She took my arm and we walked inside. "So what's the deal with tall, dark and handsome anyway? Is he single?" I laughed. "Girl he is all yours as long as you keep him occupied so I can get closer with Christian." She looked back at Heth who was following behind us and then looked back at me.

Anastasia boasted as her lips curved into a mocking smile. Annoyance flashed through Hannah's light brown eyes. Like she gives her damn about her stupid ridiculously expensive watch! She ignored her mocking advances targeted at infuriating her and instead, focus on the situation at hand. What on earth is happening ?! Why had she been brought to this creepy place she called the so-called "Enigma"? Plus, why are there all those terrifying-looking torture instruments? Don't tell me they are planning to use them on her?! Was that why Anastasia is dressed in khaki pants and what with those black latex gloves dangling at the clip pegged to the belt of her pants?

“The ceremony will be held. He would get mated but not to Hazel. He is getting mated to the daughter of Alpha Steve, Stephanie.” “What do you mean?” She looked at her husband, then at her son, then at her husband again. “Hazel is his mate” “No, she is not. She is not his mate.” Seven watched on as his parents debated. His heart was heavy. He could not imagine what was going to happen. Was it worth it? Just for his father’s love and approval for the throne, he had to lose his lover and from the look of things, was he going to lose his mother again?