The Prisoner's Throne Pdf Novels & Stories

When my eyes landed on the throne in the center of the room, one that looked like it could comfortably seat a Greek god in his true form—my blood ran dry and my throat started to itch like crazy as fear clothed me from head to toe. Despite how fervently I’d prayed for a moment like this to never come, the universe had screwed me over and allowed it happen. I’d thought I would never have to encounter the bastard called Lucas Shahato again, but here I was, standing a few inches away from his throne as a prisoner. I wanted to fucking scream until I combusted into flames. I’d prefer that to being a prisoner to this insane and ego drunk prick. “You heard the lovely lady, let her go,” the sick gri

She would be obeyed. "Am I a prisoner?" Alaron looked at the ground. His expression was a mix of shame and anger. "Did you come back willingly to apologize for your wrongdoing or were you brought back kicking and screaming?" she paused, waiting for a reply that would not come. "Then until I say so, yes, you are a prisoner." The large bed belonging to the prince re-entered the room after being thoroughly examined. Chief Zan followed it in with a bow. "I took the liberty of checking the bed personally. It is perfectly safe."

It fluttered down, turning gray as it fell. It hit the perfect, black pavement. It didn't rot. It just lay there. Preserved. Dead. "I miss the mud," I whispered. THE DEEP DAMIAN’S P.O.V. (The Cradle) The cell was empty. The door was open. But I wasn't leaving. I sat on the Stone Throne, my obsidian leg fused to the rock. The Ancient Hammer rested against my shoulder. I was no longer the Jailer. The prisoner was out on parole.

The staircase curved sharply one final time before opening into a massive underground chamber. All three of them stopped instantly at the entrance. The room was enormous, far larger than anything above. Massive pillars stretched upward into darkness while rivers of dim red light moved beneath cracks in the floor like magma trapped under glass. And at the center of the chamber stood a throne. It was not decorative or royal. It was a prison. Black chains thicker than tree trunks wrapped around it from every direction, disappearing into the walls and floor. Thousands of glowing runes burned across the metal. Something had once been restrained there, something powerful enough that entire kingdom

As he leaned forward, his soldiers lowered their swords slightly, curious about my next move. "Isn’t this what you want?" I provoked, waving the envelope in the air before walking up to him and pushing the document against his chest. "Here it is. The document that states I am the rightful heir and that you should abdicate the throne to me." The surprise on his face was evident. He looked confused, as if he had been expecting me to use it as a weapon to claim the throne and start a war. But to the surprise of everyone in the room, including Cassandra, I threw the document on the floor at Valentin’s feet.

' THE COURT The lamps had been lit and the sweet evening winds blew like every other dusk but the haggard state of the palace and its inhabitants told another story, marking a difference in how far this evening was from any other sunset that this palace or the town, villages and lands beyond that had ever seen. Marking the difference with the chilling presence of a woman on the throne, a throne that had never ever touched by the shadow of a woman upon until now. But this evening, it had changed! And so had changed the position of the younger prince. A man in his prime, fearsome warrior and a youthful husband, he were many things but tonight he was made out to be nothing else but a bloody con

The Beta continued, "She thought if you were injured, you couldn't complete the ritual, and she'd have another chance. She never expected... you'd take the blade for Miss Isla." "Where is she?" Damien's voice was like ice. "We found her in an abandoned warehouse outside the city. For hiring rogues to harm an Alpha and a future Luna, the Council of Elders has sentenced her to be stripped of her pack status and imprisoned for life." The Beta finished, gave me a deep look of apology and respect, and quietly excused himself. The room was silent. The news was like a boulder, smashing the last of Damien's illusions about the past.

The ash hissed, the air warped. Killian staggered upright, body smoking. His voice came out raw but steady: “You don’t get him. Not while I breathe.” The throne broke apart. Shadows spilled, gathering into a form that filled the sky. Not Daryl’s body — something older, vast, all angles and hunger. A face with no features except a mouth that stretched wider and wider, teeth black as iron. The Prisoner. Unbound by flesh. “Then you’ll stop breathing.” The ash plain cracked, splitting into rivers of molten silver. The air screamed.

his secret. The great doors opened, revealing an ancient throne room that hadn't seen use in centuries—not since Jonathan had killed his older brother and taken over his territory. He'd had little use for the posturing and sniveling of demons attempting to gain favor with the princes of hell. They followed his orders, or they were destroyed. He'd repurposed the room—spent years reconfiguring the cavernous space into the perfect cradle of magic . . . And it was nearly time for the birth.

He murdered my family and took me as a trophy to prove he had won. I looked back at the papers in my hand. They were official birth records. Name: Elara Thorne. Parentage: King Alaric Thorne and Queen Seraphina Thorne. I wasn't Elara Fighlo. I wasn't a servant, i was a Thorne. My bloodline didn't just rank high, it eclipsed every Alpha in the territory. We were the originals. I kept reading. There were notes in Rowan’s handwriting. “The girl’s power is growing. Increase the dosage of the binding agent. If her silver fire awakens, the pack will realize she is the true heir. Aiden is starting to ask questions about the girl. I must suppress the bond before it stabilizes.”