Novel & Cerita Nehemia Throne Of Glass

I teased, trying to ease some of the tension. "Good to know that healers in the human world aren't so different then ." "I, Nesrin Willow, prince of Gardenia and daughter of Erik and Athena Bloodstone, promise that I will not harm Thomas Evergreen." Warmth travelled up my arm as the magic sealed itself, setting the deal in stone. Nesrin let go of my hand and then turned her attention back to Thomas.

'Angel face, evil thoughts.' ———♤♤♤——— Accepting Lucas deal meant that both Jace and Bella were now members of the Panthers: the American Mafia that was lead by the Kingston heir. And though it may seem dumb on Bella's part to accept such offer, she promise herself that she wouldn't let Lucas Kingston take advantage of the authority he held over them. They were assassins, they were supposed to be working only for themselves yet now they have themselves seemingly tied by a leash.

"Hmm Angel, It's nice to here again. I couldn't have you endure this torment again and so I called out to the Goddess. She and other gods trapped him in the form of the Prince. The price was I rest and not look for you and so I did. The Prince came forth essentially blocking the god. However, he was still drawn to find you. He doesn't know the reasons why, but he did and as I was informed made you queen." The man in the robes takes a vial out of his pocket. He pours the contents into a glass. Then bites his wrist dripping his blood into it. "Majesty, That was a vile of your blood I found in your chamber before.... Well you'll see. I've mixed my blood. I've always kept an eye on you at the ma

“You are heir to more than Sterling blood. You are heir to the forgotten throne. Heir of the goddess cast aside.” Her throat tightened. “No… I’m just—” “You are the flame reborn,” the spirit interrupted, voice fierce. “And the world will bow. Ash to ash. Fire to fire. You will rise, or you will burn.” The fire surged higher, enveloping her in light. She felt heat course through her veins, fierce but not destroying. It was power. Claiming her. Becoming her. Tears blurred her vision. “I can’t—” “You already are,” the spirit whispered. “Queen of the Ashes. Heir of the Forgotten Goddess.”

Part II – City of Glass By eight a.m., Manhattan had turned fully gold and sharp around them. Screens along near‑empty sidewalks streamed looping recaps of Geneva: corporate plazas burning under captions like HARTMAN SCION LINKED TO TACTICAL SABOTAGE. Evelyn walked beneath them wearing sunglasses large enough to hide recognition. Adrian kept half a step behind, too deliberate to be her bodyguard, too intimate not to be. They reached the corporate plaza. Cameras immediately swung, a hundred eyes finding their focus.

“Debt. Memory. Potential. You broke hierarchy now shape what replaces it.” --- Araya — The New Throne The black flame pulsed, then breathed. Ash swirled and fused bone white lines veined in gold and shadow rising into a seat from ruin. Fresh runes inked themselves along its base, whispering in a new tongue. Dorian’s light caught its edge in a clean halo. “It’s alive.” “It’s listening.” Nyxara prowled, tail lashing. Every throne waits for a name. Give it none. Make it guess.

That night, the Hollow flame in my chest sparked a vision. Vision: The Bone Throne I stood in a city of ash. The sky was blood red, and wolves howled not in warning but in grief. I saw the Hollow Crown, shattered at my feet. Nyra sat on a throne of bleached skulls, her eyes burning white, her hands stretched wide as thousands knelt before her. "You were the firestarter," she whispered to me. "But I am the flame." Then the city collapsed into shadow. And I woke, choking. The Decision

“Is that what this has all been about? You disrupted my wedding and kidnapped me, bringing me here so you could feel important and rub it in my face that you killed my family.” Sergio didn’t speak. “You let me believe I was nothing. Then you chained me to your side, gave me knives, maps, riddles... like I was a pawn in some twisted game.” He finally stepped forward. “You are simply here as payment for a debt owed to my family... You were never a pawn I chose.” “Then what am I?” she asked bitterly. He looked at her sadly. “You're the queen that was never meant to rise.” ************************************************** Suddenly, the manor’s alarm pierced the quiet.

The only one who understands what it means to burn from the inside. She waits in silence, chained in obsidian, her eyes like molten coal. Neria. A shadow witch exiled from the Hollow decades ago. A mistress of forbidden spells. My secret. “Your son lives,” I tell her. She grins. “You don’t have a son.” I don’t blink. “My sister’s son, then. But he carries my blood.” “Not your name.” I ignore the sting. “He’s growing stronger. He’s won over the Hollow. Stormfang bows to him. The prophecy is moving.”

The creatures weren't just destroying the walls; they were destroying everything, and they moved with purpose, with coordination, as if they weren't mindless beasts but something far more sinister. "Raina!" My mother again, more frantic now. And beneath it, I heard footsteps—my stepfather's heavy boots thundering up the stairs. The spell broke. I spuned away from the window and ran for the door, my mind suddenly flooding with survival instinct. The house lurched beneath my feet—an actual physical lurch, as if the ground itself was trembling. Dust rained down from the ceiling, and I heard the crack of wood splitting as the structure groaned under stress.