Novelas y relatos de The Throne Of Honor And Blood

The crown hits the marble floor with a sharp clang just before my father’s body does. The hall erupts in screams. I want to shout, to rush over to him, but my voice sticks in my throat. All I can do is watch the blood pool beneath his throne, creeping toward me. The soldiers kneel, but not for the king—for her. Queen Lunice, my grandmother. “Long live the Queen,” they chant, their voices hollow and obedient. Her eyes meet mine. Those dark, ancient, endless eyes hold me in place across the years. “No male heir shall survive,” she whispers. “The curse has already begun.”

The other six chairs surrounding it were already occupied. "Alpha Ciaran," said a dry, feminine voice. It was Amyra, the vampire queen. Her cold and calculating red eyes locked onto mine with amusement. "Countess Amyra." I bowed my head slightly, taking a seat at the table. Across from me, Zolaiah grunted in acknowledgement. The ogre king didn’t like formalities. His tusks jutted out from chapped lips, and his enormous bulk made his chair creak under him. "Let us begin," Rune Elarion, Princess Regent of the Bleeding Throne, said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Eldric stood there, alone, facing a dozen other elders who stared at him with cold, accusatory gazes. "You brought him back, Eldric," Lord Vorlag’s voice boomed through the room. He stood on the highest platform, his black wooden staff gripped tightly. "You brought the traitor back to this sacred land." "I brought back an Alpha of the Bane bloodline," Eldric countered calmly, his deep voice resonating throughout the chamber. "And I brought the foretold Heir of the Moonblood."

“Finally! Someone tamed that fake-death-playing brat! Six‘deaths’! Neighboring kingdoms refused alliances!” The wedding came. Bells rang across the empire. Silver rose petals fell from the palace dome. Rumors spread: “The Seventh Consort tamed his hunger!” The truth? He still takes a drop of my blood each night— not from thirst, but from covenant. The Blood Prince hasn’t lost his fangs… he just chose to sheathe them for me. And Lucian? After we left—he and Seraphina took the lash daily. Once the Lion of the North. Now just a ghost.

I stepped forward. His gaze slid toward Mira. My wolf exploded with fury. I grabbed him by the collar before anyone could stop me. “Choose your next words carefully.” He coughed but kept smiling. “The child belongs to the first bloodline,” he whispered. “And the first bloodline belongs to the throne.” Rowan went still. Elara looked like the ground had shifted beneath her feet. “There is no throne,” she said coldly. “There was,” the spy replied. “And there will be again.”

We stood side by side, receiving the blessings and cheers of all present. On my finger glittered a massive diamond ring, a symbol of the alliance between two mafia families. Behind me stood a knight whose loyalty would never waver. Beneath me lay a vast empire, growing at a staggering pace. As for love? It had been buried three months ago in that blood-soaked casino, along with my shattered right hand. For me, love no longer existed. And now, the new commander rose, her reign beginning with absolute authority.

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.”

“Anyway… I might be the next Alpha.” His words hit me like a shockwave. “What? Why?” I manage, my voice trembling. “I have Alpha blood,” he explains, standing taller. “It would only be natural when I turn eighteen. Kenneth didn’t have an heir, and his only siblings are your mother and her sister Sara. His twin brother Maxwell is dead. And your mother only has daughters.” I’m still reeling. “Even though your father is second in command, the council voted against it…” I add quietly, knowing that must have displeased him.

“Time is a luxury the kingdom cannot afford, Alpha. Have you forgotten the sacred vow? When assassins held blades to your throat, my blood spilled to save you. I took the poison meant for you. You swore a royal blood pact to protect my family and elevate my daughter to the throne.” I frown at him bringing that up, and how dare he act so bold in front of me? I slam my hands on the desk. “What gives you the audacity?” “My King,” he replies, placing a hand over mine. “A king’s word is his bond. A blood debt must be honored.” The weight of the blood debt crashes down on me, heavy and unyielding. The royal honor of my bloodline cannot be broken, and the memory of his sacrifice silences my objecti

Otsana’s gold mark burned beside me, but its light bent toward the throne like a flame leaning toward wind. Ashina sobbed harder, gripping her stomach while Maelor’s heartbeat echoed through the black bone like drums beneath a coronation hall. The first Blood Feather book floated above the throne, no longer thrashing, no longer screaming, but opening itself like a servant obeying its true master. A circle of old blood appeared around the throne’s base, then spread outward until it touched Blackfang warriors and Northridge nobles alike. Conri shouted orders, but the blood ignored every blade, every title, and every frightened foot trying to step away.