The Ivory Throne Book Novels & Stories

On the day my fiancé, Raphael Moretti, and I were supposed to get our marriage license at city hall, I dressed with care. But by noon, he still hadn't shown up. Aurelia De Luca video-called me. "Sofia, where are you? Raphael's been waiting for you all day." Panic hit me. "Weren't we signing in Palermo?" Aurelia frowned. "It's Taormina, Sofia. Everyone's been waiting for a long time." I drove straight to Taormina. When I arrived, no one was there. When the video connected, Aurelia was crouched on the ground, laughing hard. "Sofia, don't tell me you actually went. We're already on Lipari. Raphael's setting up the wedding venue to surprise you." I left my car at the port and took a boat to Lipa

He didn’t notice the way my tone clipped, or maybe he did and chose to ignore it. “The Thornevales,” he continued, his voice growing more intense, “they sit on a throne built from the blood of everyone beneath them. You know it. You’ve seen it. They let the hungry starve. They watch people beg for healing, for shelter, for a chance and they look the other way unless that person has a little power they can use. Or worse—unless they’re useful for manipulation.” He spat the word like it tasted sour in his mouth. But I was also adamant.

KAIDEN THE NEXT MORNING I sat back in my throne, watching as the guards dragged Ivy, Councilman Leonard, and her sisters into the throne room. They were shoved to their knees on the polished stone floor, their heads bowed, fear already painted across their faces. Ivy, especially, looked terrified. Her breathing was uneven, and I could smell the guilt rolling off her.

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?

He wasn’t angry with me like I thought he would be. “Warriors! Gather around.” He yelled without breaking eye contact. It was only when they had formed a circle around us that he looked away at them. “Ivory is your luna. She is the daughter of the Moon Goddess and Mother Nature. She has her own powers, as you just saw. These are not all of them, but one of them. Her uncle is Adron, who you just met. He is the creator of the underworld and has threatened our way of life. With Ivory, we are set on a mission to stop Adron from killing everything we hold dear!”

Copyright © 2020 Sonia Raines All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission from the copyright holder. All rights for the book cover image go to the rightful owner. This book contains a little bit of mature scenes and strong language. The book depicts scenes of sex, murder, gore, drinking and cussing. If this isn't your cup of tea then don't read.

Giving her all, it might help us but is a danger for her. "She is taking back the magic, this can't be. She might die doing that!" Vanessa shouted when she saw what's happening, and realized what the purpose of Siva was doing. "She was the book itself." Ivory stated. I don't understand them, but they are talking to something Siva was portraying now. I think she needs that book, whatever it is but because she doesn't have it right now she is using herself, but for what

The throne cracks. The wolves howl. Their eyes begin to weep ink. The sky above splinters. I raise my hand and snarl, not as a prince, not even as a warrior....As a mate. “Zenith,” I whisper. The illusion shatters. The grove returns in a burst of dry wind and dust. I fall to one knee, drenched in sweat. Breathing hard. The Lunacrown Thistle sways gently, undisturbed.

“Take a look. This is the family now. This is how we’re doing things.” He leaned in, his voice getting that low, scary tone. “If anyone has a problem with what they see here, anything at all, feel free to tell me right now. I’d love to hear it.” Totally silence. Nobody said a word. The message was loud and clear: the throne was protecting everyone now, hybrids, newcomers, and all. And if you didn't like it, you were going to have to deal with the King.

Not the peace bought by victory, but the peace that comes after surrender, not to another’s will, but to the truth of endings. Elara walked the spire’s winding stairs alone. There was no summoning bell, no royal guards, no whispers of intrigue or rivalry. The throne room, once a place of terror and hope, had been remade: no seat of power, just shelves of memory, old banners folded in shadow, records written in every tongue. The only throne that remained was a low desk, shaped of moonstone and scales, empty except for a single, blank book. She touched its cover. The book hummed with latent power, woven through by the spells of a hundred different hands: witches, vampires, wolves, and mortals.