Shadowed Thrones Novels & Stories

Now they all lie beneath it, buried in the towering dais of rattling skulls and bones of their own kind. As I approached, centuries-old shadows hovering above the throne stirred and began whispering in a lost tongue. The crimson marble aisle leading to the throne pulsed with life, absorbing the blood that dripped down my body. Red veins in the stone glowed like molten lava surging through cracks, illuminating the path as I walked. Dark gray statues of demon wolves flanked the crimson aisle, their stone eyes ever-watchful. Beyond them, faceless hooded guardians lurked in the shadows, clutching ancient weapons in their praying hands.

She stood a little taller and stronger with her brother’s help. “I, Kydence Diamond Shadow, daughter of Beta Karson and Kora Shadow, of the Shadow Mountain pack accept the rejection of Andrew Grady Chambers, as his TRUE FATED mate in witness of my family, Alpha and the Moon now and forever. I am no longer bound to him as his TRUE and FATED mate.” She recited cutting her connection to Andrew as he fell to his knees clutching his chest.

“I will extract every last scrap of humanity within you and once you have been taken by the darkness I will end you.” Yet her promises sounded hollow, her threats weak even to her own ears, Vanadine thought and he disregarded them with disdain. He leaned in close, smelling the mixture of rot, mushrooms and diseased flesh that made her natural perfume, with disgust. “You know why I still come here?” He asked, whispering in her pointed ear. “To remind myself of what I must never become. To remind myself of what happens if I let the darkness win. And to pity the thing that once was my friend,” he added. “Goodbye, Horann, I will not be returning again.”

Karina was covered in sweats, her teeth gritting as she poured all her force into slowing down the momentum of Hail’s final attack. Without another word, the other Nobles summoned their shadow. The blackness of its feature stretched until they connected. It was only then that it stretched into a dome that covered all of them. At the same time, Sloane called upon her shadow who stretched in the basis of her shadow. Before the dome closed upon her, she’d seen Sloane winked at her and she felt a warm sensation stabbing her stomach.

The floor beneath my feet reflected both shadow and glow, like polished obsidian kissed by dawn. Each step echoed softly— Not empty— But unfinished. At the center— The throne. Two of them. Side by side. Massive. Carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift when I wasn’t looking directly at them. One leaned toward darkness— Deep. Endless. The other held traces of light— Warm. Radiant. And yet— Neither was complete. Both were muted. Like sketches waiting to be painted. Like power waiting to be claimed. Like a story— Not yet finished.

“And what a delicious sacrifice you present.” To his right appeared Thorne, the Prince of Shadows, with flowing silver hair that seemed to move with unseen winds, crimson eyes glowing with cunning intelligence, and a lean, predatory build covered in swirling tattoo-like marks that pulsed with dark energy. “Her scent already betrays her,” he purred, stepping closer. His clawed fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, sending electric shivers down my spine. “Fear… and slick, sweet arousal. This one will break so beautifully.”

Nora picked up the folded paper. She didn't open it. She held it. "You want the throne," she said. "Yes." "And you want me to trust you." "Yes." "Those two things are going to conflict at some point." "Probably," he said. "When they do, I'll tell you." He held her gaze without wavering. "I want the throne through legitimate succession. If Caspian fulfills the anchor requirement and succeeds, the succession is his by right and I'll accept that." He paused. "What I won't accept is the succession being built on an arrangement that's being managed dishonestly. But then. if the anchor is being kept in the dark about the terms of her own arrangement

“This was found in on bed and I knew you couldn't possibly had left it there. . No one saw who did. ” Rosy’s stomach dropped. It matched the first one—the same blood-colored paper, the same eerie silence surrounding its arrival. She snatched it from Bianca’s fingers, ignoring the pointed glare she received in return. As she peeled it open, Sergio moved in from behind her, a shadow at her back. Inside was another riddle: I sleep beneath your gilded bed, Where secrets live and cowards bled. Dig too deep and you will find, A truth to rot your precious mind.

“Who.” The air dropped in an instant. Breath froze in their lungs, every candle guttering but never quite dying. The chamber seemed to fold inward, as if the walls themselves bent closer, pressing down on their ribs. Then, with a groan that echoed like bones breaking, the seal cracked. From its heart spilled shadow — but not like theirs. Not crow-black. Not familiar. This shadow was older, heavier, soaked in memory. Its edges gleamed red as if dipped in fire. A feather emerged. Long. Brittle. Stained faintly with blood.

I pointed to a diagram of a man surrounded by a towering, monstrous silhouette. "It’s not a curse, Kaelen. Not exactly. It’s a Symbiotic Anchor. The First Duke of Thorne didn't just conquer the North; he made a pact with the spirits of the frost to protect the border. The shadow is a guardian, but it requires a 'tether' of human emotion to remain stable. If the Duke’s heart becomes hollow through grief, rage, or betrayal, the shadow consumes the man to feed itself." Kaelen’s hand moved to his chest. "My father. He didn't go mad... he became hollow."