Shadowed Thrones Novels & Stories

Shadows of Destiny The courtyard of Darkfang Keep was a graveyard of silence, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the faint hum of the relic still clutched in Elara’s hands. The loyalists’ bodies lay scattered across the stones, their rebellion snuffed out in the shadow of the blood moon. Its crimson light throbbed overhead, a heartbeat in the sky that quickened Aria’s own pulse. She held Rollan close, his tiny frame pressed against her, his soft whimpers cutting through the stillness. Then it came—a howl, low and mournful, rising from the earth itself. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and the torches lining the walls sputtered, casting frantic shadows that danced like s

​I knelt beside it, running my fingertips across the rough grain of the oak. Unlike the rest of my father’s storage boxes, this chest was secured with a heavy, tarnished brass latch. Right above the keyhole, deeply carved into the wood, was a familiar mark—a sharp, stylized emblem surrounded by a ring of thorns. ​My breath caught in my throat. It was the same crest I had seen on Gabriel’s map. ​"Looking for this?" ​I jumped, my head snapping around. Leo was standing behind a wooden wardrobe, holding my sketchpad out with a sheepish look on his face.

It is simply… knowing. And so it watches. The Maddox family, with its tangled bloodlines and secrets buried deep in the earth, has long caught the Watcher’s interest. There is something about this particular branch of the family—a darkness that clings to them, one that runs deeper than any curse or family history. The Watcher understands the curse that haunts the Maddoxes. It has always been there, feeding off their fears and choices. It feeds on them, and in return, it grants them power, binds them to an ancient promise that they cannot escape. The family’s history is like a dark river, winding its way through generations, but it is one that eventually leads to a crashing waterfall of inevi

Their faces were gaunt, hollowed by the draining of their power, and their eyes, once twin orbs of molten darkness, flickered weakly like candles in a storm. The once-mighty Shadow Lords were nothing more than a collection of broken relics now, clinging to whatever scraps of their former strength they could. At the center of the hall, atop a throne split clean down the middle by some unseen force, their leader sat slumped forward. His form was massive but shrunken, cloaked in roiling black mist that barely obeyed him anymore. His long, clawed fingers tapped against the cracked armrest in a slow, irregular rhythm that echoed eerily through the desolate chamber.

Haz'th said after a while. The three of them ascended the twinkling glass staircases leading to the Throne Room, followed by more eyeballs and shadows. Passing through an unlit room that could have been anything, they reached the main hall. Bright lights were lit everywhere around them and instantly they knew it was for their benefit. The subjects around the throne manifested themselves into solid figures, but they looked weirdly translucent. They also seemed uncomfortable in the sudden light. "Princess Aelanor Gaelemariel of House Zauarn, and Lady Nimuel Saeltheriel of House Franirinth of The Immortal Utopia. Welcome to The Realm of the Shadows," a voice boomed.

I raised my hand, and the black silk-shadows didn't attack, they reached, they touched the Warlord’s scarred chest, the Solar Priest’s throat, and the Seer’s silk-bound eyes, it wasn't a strike, it was a connection. For a heartbeat, they saw what I saw; the three thrones in the dream, the crumbling ivory of the Sun, the stagnant onyx of the Shadow, and the middle throne of smoke that was the only thing keeping the world from falling into the Abyssal Grave. The Warlord fell to his knees, the Seer gasped, clutching her heart, the Solar Priest’s golden staff shattered in his hand.

“But crowns forged in shadow break under light. And soon, yours will too.” Serenya’s hands trembled, though she hid them in her gown’s folds. Every word felt like a blade, every glance a test. Yet she lifted her chin once more, forcing her heart to still. The game of thrones had begun—and in shadows, the deadliest moves were made.

"It's possible that Alpha Grayson doesn't know Thantos's reputation for killing children." The fire in Iselyn's eyes continues to burn as she glares at him. "Screw you." "You're purebloods," Jace says. "Royalty in Thantos's eyes. It's also possible that he'd rather offer you some kind of deal than kill you and waste your blood." "Yeah," Ice scoffs. "So it's really a fifty-fifty split." I say softly. "Between whether his love of blood trumps his loathing of our father."

the shadow replied " My name is Colton and I have been assigned as your second in command. I have been looking after you since you were a baby but I was ordered by the late king and Queen. I mean your birth parents. They ordered me not to show myself to you or anyone until you turn eighteen or are close to turn eighteen. All the shadows that you saw today are from your hidden Kingdom that your parent hid to keep us protected from the enemy. They used every last of their powers to protect us the died after that but made me promise to always look after yourself from hiding. You turned eighteen today which is why all the shadows decided to appear but you got scared and fainted. They didn't mean

Beyond them waited a magnificent throne room. Two thrones stood upon a raised platform. One was carved from black stone. The other... Silver. Covered in dust. Untouched for decades. The Shadow King slowly walked to the black throne and sat down. Then he pointed toward the silver throne. "Welcome home..." He smiled. "Princess Lynnek Moonfang." Lynnek refused to move. "I'll never sit beside you." The Shadow King wasn't offended. "I wasn't asking." He stood and descended the steps.