Prince Of Death's Throne Mga Nobela at Kwento

Innocence had always been the Dominion's preferred currency. The music began—strings that wept and moaned, threaded with ancient invocations that seemed to caress the very air. Each note curled like phantom fingers through the hall's ribs. Behind Caelum, Queen Mother Ysoria sat upon her obsidian throne, her ceremonial crown glinting like frozen starlight. Her fingers rested on the Scepter of Accord—forged from melted vampire blades, a reminder of wars won through sacrifice rather than strength. He despised how exquisite it all appeared. How beautiful.

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.

There standing in front of me is a tall white throne, one equal to the size of the throne in the court halls but different with the design. This throne has arch curves carved in to the seat and there are frost blur gems buried in each curves, gems the color of my eyes. The arm rests of the throne are also white but white flower designs crawl around them. The seat id wide enough for me, as if it's molded only for me and me alone.

As he moved, his suit outlined his perfect muscle lines and stirred my most hidden desires. I wanted him. He leaned against the roulette table, playing with a chip, his gaze burning as it landed on me. “Principessa Annelise, I hear you like exciting bets.” He pushed the chip toward me. His posture was lazy, but his voice was tempting. “Tonight, I’ll bet myself against you. What do you say?” The men behind me immediately tensed, gripping the guns at their waists. The heir of the Corleone family was no joke. However, I wasn’t afraid.

[Asher] I stripped off my blood-soaked coat and shirt, letting them drop to the floor. My footsteps echoed against the dead crystal walls, which shimmered back to life as I stepped into the throne room. At the other end of the room, right across the entrance, loomed the heart of the Prime Infernal Pack — the Obsidian Throne. A seat coveted by many who thought themselves worthy. Now they all lie beneath it, buried in the towering dais of rattling skulls and bones of their own kind.

Prince at the back of his mind decided that it was something he was going to practice if he leaves the place. The gorgeous throne was made of pure gold and diamonds. And it keeps blinking all the time. The hue of the throne was changing. It was the Prince's first time seeing such a throne. There were some antique manuscripts that Prince had previously seen. He opened his eyes too close to study the writings. The old writings on the throne were the same as the ancient writings in front of the Ancient home on Petit Island. Prince was perplexed why the writings on Petit Island and the writings on the Green Island throne should be the same. What is going on, and what is the secret?

Hopefully, I learn to control it. Luxurious was too little a word to describe the Prince’s suite. There were paintings on different angles on the wall, each painting having its own significance, but the largest of them was a portrait of Prince Draven adorned in his princely robe, seated on a throne and a Trident in his left hand. I moved closer to the portrait, my hands tracing the frame. He looked like a god, an angry one ready to breathe down fire.

"Why do I get the feeling you all don't want me here?" "On the contrary," one of the five said, reaching nonchalantly over the table for a scone. "You know I like a show with my dessert." Wrath's grin widen as he pointed an excited finger at him. "Exactly why you're my favourite, Gluttony." Wrath... Gluttony? Don't tell me... The seven. Deadly. Motherfucking sins? Why didn't I put two and two together? It makes perfect sense now. Why does he exude so much power... he is a prince of hell. They all are.

The top area of the window was designed with different mandala-like art, helping to cast an eerie yet unique shadow on the throne room floor. A chandelier with different coloured stones and candles hung above the throne seat where the supreme lord was currently seated on. Prince Luther found the three of his brothers already waiting before the throne seat, and they looked at him as he slowly made his way to where they stood. "Finally, you all are here." The king's voice boomed. Prince Luther paid his respect to his father, bowing before him. "I heard your call, father." "Indeed, you did." His father replied. "I called you all here because I have made a surprising discovery."

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.