Prince Of Death's Throne Novels & Stories

“I’m right here.” I pulled my hand away before he could touch me. “I, Elara Thorne,” I began. The name Thorne hit the crowd like a physical blow. I heard gasps everywhere. Rowan went pale, his jaw dropping. “Elara Thorne?” Aiden whispered, confused. “What are you talking about?” I ignored him and continued, my voice growing stronger. “Rightful heir of the Nightshade Pack and daughter of the true King, hereby reject Aiden Blackwood as my fated mate.”

It was just there, an anchor. “You can’t—” I started. “You’ll be next,” he said, low. “Wait.” The man reached the base of the dais. His legs bent, jerky and puppetlike, forcing him to climb each step. He fought every inch of the way, grabbing at the railing, leaving bloody streaks where his nails tore skin. The throne pulsed brighter. My skin crawled. In my head, a ghost‑scene played over this one—words tapping themselves onto a screen: *The House doesn’t always kill those who break its rules.* *Sometimes it feeds them to its heart.* *Sometimes the throne decides to claim its own seat filler…*

when he heard the sound. Thorne laughed maniacally as he declared, "You win the throne!" But all your important assets will be taken from you. Dante didn't let him finish. Dante forced his Moon-steel sword through Elder Thorne's chest, pinning him to the mahogany wall with one swift, brutal thrust. The laugh was cut short. The corrupt leader of the High Council collapsed forward, dead before he even had the chance to fall. Dante turned to his Beta after ripping the sword from him.

"Princess...Levara?" The woman standing before her was unmistakable. Long golden-brown hair, pale skin, crimson eyes and soft pink lips. The beautiful face that Elly had seen on television countless times, the beloved Princess of Avenor. Her princess. Levara. But something was terribly wrong, Levara's eyes were empty, there was no warmth in them, they looked almost lifeless. As if the woman standing before Elly had already died long before her body had ever stopped breathing. Elly swallowed.

Every vampire born or turned had to be registered under the council, a body of five special vampires who ruled over every vampire in the country. Each member known as an elder. We all had to answer to them but I answered to no one. I was the girl whose birth was unscented, undisclosed. I had never met my mother, so I had no knowledge about authority as it went until I was nineteen. I had gone on a raid with a few of my friends as usual like the scavengers we were but I got caught by a protector. Being dragged like an animal to the council when my name wasn't found in the registry was one of the worst days of my life, the humiliation was real and I had swore to never relent to them. Suffice t

**December 14, 2030 – Xibalba, the Throne Cenote** We emerged like comets streaking with purpose. The throne cenote matched her whispered nightmares: walls of dark stone etched with ancient symbols, floor smooth and unyielding, vast space under a starless expanse. Twelve Death lords encircled the center. Celeste knelt there, weakened. The Twin Thunder Crown, restored and radiant, rested upon the Death Lord King’s brow. He mocked her triumphantly. She endured, violet energy flickering from her as the crown drew her strength.

That was impossible, they all feared us and dared not to even breathe wrongly in our direction plus they were all corporate when I looked out the window. “Could be some omegas messing around.” Rowan said with a shrug. Before continuing to the throne room. I will find whoever was responsible for this ruckus and deal with them later. We all walked to the throne room. The throne room was large with dark obsidian pillars, dark stone flooring, perfectly sculpted faces of all the previous alpha kings and queen lunas lined up against the walls on either side. A lot of blood has been shed in this room, faint crimson blood stains here and there, a reminder of what could happen if you step out of line

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.

No matter how strong they were, how could they be as strong as White Deer Emperor? How could he be more powerful than a Holy Kingdom minister in the Chaos Realm? As a result, they had all remained silent for the past few days, including the Blood Thorn Prince's Estate, which was at odds with the Heaven-patrolling Prince's Mansion. In particular, the people of the Mansion of Blood Thorns had already known that it was Caspian who killed the princess. So what? Crown Prince White Deer would die in vain if he died, and White Deer Emperor would become a prisoner. So what if they died? So what?

He responded, "Elias Langley, first prince of the Allsbrook empire and next in line for the throne." "Did you just say prince?" I asked, eyes widening. "As in royalty? Kind of a big deal? That kind of prince?" I had to have misunderstood him somehow. There was just no way I woke up in a prince's bed with no recollection of anything beforehand. "Yes, I am a prince. Is that so hard to believe?" He looked slightly offended by my reaction. "Everyone knows who I am." Prince... This guy was not only a mythical creature, but he was also a prince and soon-to-be king of an entire empire. What had I just gotten myself into?