The Silence Beneath The Throne Novels & Stories

But older, simpler, and stronger. Lyra stepped forward, horrified. “Princess, wait—” The glyph snapped into place, and the chamber answered. Stone shuddered. The air cracked. Light flared. A voice—vast, deep, and layered—filled the cavern. —At last. —A conqueror worthy of the First Throne. Kael’s sword was out. Selene grabbed his arm. “Too late.” The glyph projected a shape, not a man, not a creature, but a throne.

2. Got away by an inch Silence befell, and the crowded hall turned eerily still. Every existing soul was rendered motionless as they stared in the direction of table number five. All the gazes burned holes in Aria’s back. To say she was used to all the ignorance and cold treatment everyone gave her. As every eyeball appraised her at this moment, she prayed for the windows to burst open. She wished for a tornado to sweep her out of the room and take her away.

a voice called, distant but familiar. I didn’t have the strength to respond. My eyes fluttered shut as the darkness took over. Finally, silence.

I don't like to gel them completely so setting them is enough for me. We've arrived at the Khan's house about half an hour ago Abba and Dua's baba were talking among themselves while mehek and malaika were busy talking to eachother and shahzain was talking to me. Unintentionally my eyes kept on glancing towards the stair case from where I could her faint footsteps and the clinking of a pazeb (anklets). The closer the footsteps got the more nervous I was getting I don't know why am I nervous. OK maybe its my first commitment. I don't know anyways. After a few minutes the footsteps stopped but then they entered the drawing room.

The world could vanish around us, and we wouldn’t notice. Because those thrones? They know who we are. Jack leans closer to me, jaw tense. “Can you feel that?” “Yeah,” I breathe, eyes never leaving the stone. “It’s like they’ve been waiting.” Reluctantly, we turn away. We take our seats at the far end of the hall—simple, low-backed chairs meant for guests. Not royalty. But the silence that follows as we sit is loud. Deafening, almost. Every eye remains fixed on us, even though we pretend not to notice. Still, that throne—my throne—whispers to me like a lullaby sung from long ago.

I leaned back, my eyes scanning the silent, empty hall. The power was intoxicating, a potent brew that coursed through my veins, pushing aside the last vestiges of doubt, of grief for my parents, for the life I’d lost, for the child I’d miscarried. Layla would pay. Every single one of them would pay. This was only the beginning. The silence of the throne room was soon disturbed by a distinct, almost jaunty rapping on the grand hall doors. Not a knock from a servant, but a confident, almost theatrical series of taps.

And then, she turned, not to sit the throne, But to kneel before it. Kael’s heart broke in the dream. Because it wasn’t stolen from her. She chose it. Behind the throne, it rose. The God Below. No body. No face. Just shadow and fire and wound. A silence so loud it devoured thought. It unmade meaning. It looked at him. And Kael understood everything in an instant. This was the end. Not fire consuming the cities.Not ash covering the oceans.But silence. Eternal. Absolute.

From the depths, something erupts. For a breath, I think it’s Kael. It isn’t. It’s worse. A figure draped in veils of silver shadow, crowned in blades of bone, its voice a hiss like silk tearing: “The Throne awakens.” The words fall like a curse. The air warps around them, heavy enough to crush breath from my lungs. The thing moves without moving, unraveling across the stone like smoke with teeth. Its face—if it has one—is a void rimmed in jagged light.

The shattered remains of Professor Kaelen’s spectacles lay on the oak table of the Sovereign’s war room, glittering like diamond dust in the lantern light. No one spoke. The heavy silence was a stark contrast to the roaring wind outside the ship’s hull. King Thorne, Captain Vane, Helena, and Zephyr all stared at Tristan, waiting for the inevitable explosion. They expected the Viper to bare his fangs, to unleash a command born of fiery, blinding rage.

I pushed him over the edge. Sebastian's face twisted in rage as he bellowed, "Out! Get out now!" The door slammed shut behind me. I let out a wry chuckle, picked up a stray garment from the floor, and tucked it into my suitcase. In the dimly lit room of the grand villa, Rosa's voice trembled with a mix of urgency and regret. "Don, this is all my fault. I've put you in such a tough spot. Maybe I should just hand the title of Mrs. back to Ms. DeLuca?"