The Ivory Throne Book Novels & Stories

Ivory was a sweet little girl born to the lord and lady of Davister witch, the most powerful of all the three clan. She was the ideal daughter but lacked the will to perform magic, despite this her parents still loved her and made her their major priority, knowing that their god Selene would surely bless their daughter. All attention was on Ivory while her younger sister Alovia was left out.

The floor beneath them began moving. Everyone stepped back. The center of the vault opened. A circular platform rose from below. On it stood a black chair. It looked ancient. But beneath it were glowing screens and biometric scanners. Ava stared. "That's the throne?" Victor nodded. "The original Black Rose throne." Daniel laughed bitterly. "You actually built a throne?" Victor smiled. "Power needs a seat." Ava shook her head. "This is insane." Victor looked at her. "Sit." "No."

The harbor. The kingdom. The ocean. Gone. Then Thomas found himself standing inside a vast golden chamber. Endless. Silent. Ancient. Rows of towering pillars stretched beyond sight. Golden flames burned without heat. And at the center stood a throne. A black throne. Wrong. Everything about it felt wrong. The throne didn't belong there. Then someone moved. A figure sitting upon it. Waiting. Watching. Then the figure slowly stood. Tall. Powerful. Ancient armor covered his body.

She sighed, shaking her head as she glanced around, the memory of those four malnourished children gnawing at her insides. The doors at the end of the grand hallway groaned open, revealing the throne room—a vast chamber lined with towering columns wrapped in gold leaf. At its center, the throne sat atop a raised dais, an imposing seat of ivory and lapis, its armrests carved into the heads of twin lions.

IVORY’S POV My eyes snap open, and the world is all wrong. Instead of the damp, familiar stone of my quarters, I see an ornate ceiling of painted frescoes and chiseled gold. Instead of the smell of mold, there’s the scent of spices and clean linen. And instead of safety, there’s him. My heart seizes, a rabbit kicking against my ribs, as I see the King’s hand hover just above my head, frozen in a gentle act I don’t comprehend.

And now they were here because they knew the old ways had failed. Because they believed in what was rising. Behind me, Ivy stepped out of the trees. They turned and everywhere went silent. She stood straight looking pale and young. But they saw it too, The light in her wrist. The power humming beneath her skin like the moon had moved inside her. “She’s not just one of us,” I said. “She’s the reason we’re going to win.” A few of them murmured while some bowed their heads. I kept my voice low.

Captain Nora checked the weather scanner on her tablet. “No storm.” Samuel looked around uneasily. “Then what was that?” Elias answered quietly. “The Circle.” ⸻ Far beyond the forest, hidden beneath an immense mountain of white stone, seven empty thrones stood in perfect silence. For centuries, they had remained untouched. Now… One by one… Candles before each throne lit themselves. The first. The second. The third. By the time the seventh flame ignited, the chamber glowed with a soft golden light. The eighth throne remained dark.

"The last to stand before the Hollow Crown." Myrra tensed. "You keep saying that. What is the Hollow Crown?" For the first time, Varic hesitated. Rael stepped forward. "The throne is a door," he said, voice steady despite the fear curling in his chest. "That’s what the book says. And now, whatever was behind it is waking up, isn’t it?" A slow nod. "The First King did not build the throne to rule," Vame said. "He built it to hold. To contain the thing that should not be. But power is a hunger. And the kings that followed did not understand what they sat upon."

Ethan was in a deep blue Alpha's suit, the golden crest of the Sunstone Pack pinned to his chest. The Head Elder of the Guild officiated. "In the witness of the Moon Goddess, we gather here today to see the joining of two souls." The guests stood quietly. My parents, Chloe, my colleagues from the Guild, and representatives from several European packs. "Isla, do you accept Ethan as your chosen mate?" "I do," I said, looking into Ethan's warm, steady eyes. "I choose him, as he has chosen me." "Ethan, do you promise to respect Isla's gifts, to support her dreams, and to walk beside her for all your days?"

The throne flared when needed and dimmed on request. Far below, Blackthorn buzzed toward market day bowls clattering, fair arguments rehearsed. A wolf barked once, remembered dignity, and stopped. A fishwife scolded the weather for choosing another road. Selene stood sentinno kneeling, the only measure. Dorian mapped light for the path home. Nyxara curled, purring a verdict. And the Throne of Ash burned not as a crown, But as a hearth, the whole city could warm its hands over