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.

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

After a few minutes had passed a throat was cleared which in return caused Zion and I to look over at the door. “Presenting Prince Alcander Gartreides. He is the prince of all werewolves, son of Draven Gartreides king of the north, and king of all werewolves. Our sire will reign with grace one day and lead us into greatness.” An unknown voice said, and I got up from my chair. I curtsied lowly before the prince, his footsteps were slow and steady, and they stopped in front of me.

**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.

I slowly walked forward, my heart racing as I tried to register what was going on. “I leave tonight, I need you to make sure no one tries to steal my throne while I’m gone. I may have spared your life in the human realm, but if a slip up happens in my kingdom, under your guard, I will kill you.” The man sounded excited about death, as if he hoped the person would fail. I turned the corner entering a huge room. A single golden throne sat in the middle of dais. Gold skulls sat at the end of each armrest, the back of the throne had angels falling from the sky into a pit of fire carved into it. Gold was moulded into bones and created the base of the chair.

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

Their eyes stared blankly at the stars. "Xavier..." He turned sharply. The ground beneath him cracked, revealing glowing veins of red, as if the earth bled. Then he saw it. A throne of fire, hovering above a bed of bones. Voices rose around it, chanting in a language he didn't understand but somehow felt familiar. "Prince of the Lost Line. Heir of Ash. Crown of the Undone." He staggered toward the throne. His reflection shimmered in the flame—gold eyes, a crown made of horn and shadow, and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.