Sealed Divine Throne Novels & Stories

But that throne changed us all. Even me and him. He was once my guard, my protector. Now, he’s after my kingdom. The path to the throne is paved with thorns, pain and blood. To win, I’ll risk it all. I should risk all of that I have even if my heart is included. --- ETHAN ASH PENDLETON

Their ruler, a stalwart protector, had consistently shielded them selflessly, and the throne's strategic placement served as a profound tribute to this unwavering devotion. The throne, facing the sunrise, carried deeper significance, portraying the ruler as a glorious beacon. Much like the rising sun ushering in a new day, the ruler illuminated the lives of their people, pulling them out of the shadows with the gentle glow of enlightenment. This positioning accentuated the ruler's role as a guiding light, a reassuring presence promising hope and dispelling darkness with each dawn, making the throne not just a seat, but a symbol of hope, resilience, and great leadership.

The tale of consecutive despairing events that doomed humanity spurred from the ascension of underworld monstrosities following the physical departure of Gods and Goddesses from the mortal world. Lacking any option left to turn the table around, turned to the apathetic divinities once more. Ties between the heavenly and the earthly remain severed, although assistance was provided under a certain condition — sacrifices. One maiden was to be chosen in each kingdom, who were agreed to be among the poorest peasants; burned and after three days, the figure of women were reformed from ashes. Incomparable power manifested within them, at the price unknown to the mortal beings. By the order of Gods,

“Michael Thorne, you have been created by the Goddess to be her mouthpiece on Earth. You will guide the Alpha and Luna in making decisions for the future of this pack. You have been weighed, measured, and found immensely ready. Do you accept this calling?” Michael smiles wide, his expression glowing with purpose. “I accept the calling of the Goddess with all my heart, my mind, and my soul.” I dip my fingers in the oil and draw a crescent on his forehead. “May your mind remain open to the Goddess and all the wisdom she bestows.” I dip my fingers again and draw a full circle on his lips.

“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.”

"Ms. DeLuca, Sebastian, and I are truly in love. Please, let us be. I'm begging you, don't take our love away, okay?" Sebastian, with a slight smirk, was about to come to her defense when he noticed the bridal bouquet in my hands. Suddenly, he looked as if he was struck by lightning, his expression darkening. "Elena, are you secretly marrying someone else? "How could you do this?" He bellowed, his voice filled with accusation. I knew he had it all wrong, but I was done explaining. With a blank face, I replied, "Sebastian, we're divorced. I don't owe you any explanations."

Leon's brows drew together slightly. He glanced at me, lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Anrina leaned close and whispered into his ear. "If Isabella succeeds, then give her position back, okay?" Leon was silent for a few seconds before finally nodding. "Isabella." He looked at me across the room. "Go retrieve the shipment. Come back alive, and I'll restore your position as Capo." I stood there quietly, staring at the man I had personally helped place on the throne.

There are three celestial orders: The Lowest (angels and archangels) The Middle (Dominions, Virtues, Powers) And the Highest (Thrones, Cherubim, Seraphim) Seraphim can't be made from mortals. Only from the hand of God. But Thrones? Thrones can be reborn from other beings. Thrones enforce divine justice. That's what I am now. The firebrand. The judge. The balancer of scales. “You can transform into your other forms, Jacob,” the voice of God says. “How, Father?” I ask.

In my temple, the sacred flame twists sideways, screaming toward the sky like it has been denied something since the First Era. I stand very still. And the whispers begin. “She wasn’t supposed to wake…” “She was sealed…” “She was nothing…” But something has broken. Something that will not mend. The throne that once howled for dominion now howls for war. --- The Deepest Layer of the Vault Beneath even the thrones, beneath law and light, Lies the place where gods are sent to be forgotten. And he is buried there. Not a god. Not a beast.

“And now—so will he.” Kael turned just in time to see the throne respond to him. Light surged. The throne recognized his presence. And it began to reshape itself— —into two seats instead of one. Aria’s breath hitched. “Kael…” she whispered. The void trembled as the throne completed its transformation. The Gate was no longer choosing between them. It was claiming them both. And somewhere far below, the mortal world began to crack under the weight of a godhood that was no longer singular.