Novel & Cerita The Ivory Throne Book

I woke to sunlight streaming through massive windows and the sound of birds singing outside. For a moment, I was disoriented. This wasn’t Elena’s cabin. This wasn’t the wilderness. This was luxury: a king-sized bed with silk sheets, furniture that probably cost more than my entire life at Crescent Moon, and a bathroom with a tub big enough to swim in. Blackthorn Pack. Kade. My mate. Good morning,* my wolf said, stretching contentedly in my mind. Sleep well?

"I hear the student mess hall is serving Mystery Meat today. Try not to choke on your envy. It's a very unappealing look for a noble." We swept out of the room. Aurel led the way like a dark celestial prince. Me, Zephina, Dahlia, and their bewildered mentors followed behind. The iron doors swung shut. Just before they closed, I heard Ivy slam her notebook onto her desk. A shrill frustrated scream cut short by the clang of metal against stone. --- The Ivory Pavilion sat atop the eastern spire, accessible only by a private lift enchanted with blood-verification runes. The doors opened onto a space that made my breath catch.

“They are my pack.” A low, humorless chuckle sounded beside me as he stepped into view. “Not anymore.” His eyes scanned the courtyard where Raven stood speaking with a group of warriors. “She wears it well,” he said. “The authority.” I said nothing. “You could have had that.” I finally looked at him. “This isn’t about what I could have had.” “No?” His brow lifted. “Because from where I stand, it looks exactly like that.” I clenched my jaw. “You trained your entire life for that throne,” Eldric continued. “You fought for it. You bled for it. And then the moment it became inconvenient, you handed it over.”

But the warehouse was empty now, cleaned, nothing remaining of the violence that had occurred there. Except for a message spray-painted across the wall in blood-red letters: **"THE KING WILL FALL. THE THRONE AWAITS A STRONGER HAND."** The room went silent. "When was this done?" Dante's voice was dangerously quiet. "Sometime in the last three hours. After we cleaned the site." Massimo switched to another camera angle. "But that's not all. Look at this."

⸻ THE THRONE ROOM It wasn’t a room. It was a cavern that stretched beyond sight, lit by rivers of fire that ran along the walls like veins of molten gold. Floating platforms of obsidian drifted lazily in the air. Pillars of bone spiraled upward, disappearing into darkness. And in the center— A throne of shimmering black stone, edged with smoke that curled upward and vanished. It was both beautiful and terrifying. Alive yet ancient. Calling me and warning me at the same time. “The throne of the underworld,” Malik said quietly. “No demon has sat here in thousands of years. It rejects all who touch it. But I think…”

“And this stays secret. If your father learns his daughter dragged a bleeding stranger into her chambers, I’ll lose my medical license before sunrise.” “Thank you.” After Chloe finished, we cleaned the blood from the floors and finally slept. *** IVAN I was sitting on a throne made of iron and bone. It was not comfortable. It was where I belonged. I finally got the throne. Kael, my brother, was gone. He wanted to conquer the five packs of Malvern Hills. The five packs killed our father, framed him wrongly. I wanted him to get revenge on them… But my hunger for the throne was deeper. He never expected the betrayal from me. Since childhood, he has got everything. I only watched his victory wit

I felt pathetic, I was pathetic. “Elara, I’ll give it all back,” I said, my voice cracking from the cold. “I’ll tell the elders. I’ll tell them you’re the Thorne heir. I’ll step down. I don’t want the crown if it means I have to feel this quiet in my head.” I heard a movement on the other side. A floorboard creaked. “You’re a liar, Aiden,” she finally spoke. “You love that crown more than you ever loved me. You’re only here because the bond snapped and it hurts. If it didn't hurt, you’d still be up there in your big bed, ignoring me.”

Together we climbed the long marble steps toward the throne that had once been stained by my blood. This time— the crown was ours.

Caspian asked. No. "Yes," I said. The doors opened. The throne room stretched before us, packed wall to wall. Noble houses. Warriors. Servants. Common folk. And at the far end, the Obsidian Throne. Beside it, something new. A second throne. Carved from white stone that seemed to glow. The Queen's Throne. Mine. We walked forward. Every step echoed in the sudden silence. The High Priestess waited, holding a crown of silver and moonstone.

I pat him on the shoulder before we pull apart. ------------- King Orrin's ashes lay in the jar, as every God in Serenacia stays present in the room, honouring the dead king. Octavius, the wizard of Gods, takes over the event, where Orrin takes part in burial ritual of spreading his father's ashes through the Holy line, so he can rest in peace. The signature of white attires compliments the hall, as both God and goddesses, pay due decorum and respect to the late king. My eye meets with Cicero, as the look on his face makes me feel even more guilty of knowing what I know, but still yet, I couldn't call it murder when it is indeed treason.