Throne Of Bones Novels & Stories

I didn't notice Tana had left my hand until I saw her fall to her knee, her head lowered. Only then did I raise my head and saw three men sitting on what looked like thrones. The one in the middle had hair as dark as the night, the other two had golden hair and silver hair respectively. I was suddenly shoved from the back and forced into a kneeling position. I snarled furiously and glared at the person who pushed me. It was the man who came with Tana and me. The man with the dark hair was the first one to speak. “Three days ago, you were found in the woods of Thornwood borders by Lord Byron Wesley of the Shadowborn, during a Hollowborn hunt. You were brought to the Dragon Keep, where we disc

And they were walking straight into it. The throne itself rose from the center of the Vale, carved from obsidian and bone, crowned with flame that never flickered. It pulsed with ancient magic, the kind that didn’t ask permission. Aria felt it in her chest, pressing against the unborn flame inside her. Luna stopped walking. “He’s here,” she said. Kaelion nodded. “Then we finish this.”

She was after her father’s position as the Master of strength and the Alpha’s enforcer. Myria was built differently. Unlike most girls who preferred dolls, dresses, and looking pretty, she had broad shoulders shaped by years of discipline. Her presence didn’t demand attention—it claimed it. Her gaze was sharp, calculating—not cruel. She didn’t talk much. She didn’t need to. When Myria Throneclaw walked into a room, strength followed. And tomorrow, she intended to prove it. I didn’t look at Raven again—not when the feast resumed, not when plates were passed, not even when she finally lifted her cup.

He kissed my lips, then stared out the window. “We should go down,” he said, his eyes dark and dangerous, before glancing at my clothes. “Quickly shower, and we’ll go down together.” I nodded. After showering and changing, we headed downstairs. Bryan’s body stiffened as my mom opened the door to welcome the Stone Warriors Pack. He moved slightly in front of me, protective. Prince stepped in first. Handsome, with dark hair and stubble, but nothing compared to my mate. The tension was palpable. Bryan and Prince made eye contact, each standing taller, faces contorting into dark smirks that made everyone around cower.

​The dust from the shattered doors settled like toxic snow on Elder Thorne’s expensive charcoal suit, but the man didn't move to brush it off. He couldn't. His entire being was paralyzed, his eyes locked onto the three small children standing in the center of his path. ​Thorne had spent eighty years, nearly an entire lifetime, studying the ancient texts of the Silver Bloodline. He knew the prophecies of the "Triple Crown," but he had dismissed them as fairy tales meant to keep the lower ranks hopeful.

"You mean—" "I mean," Adeyemi interrupted, his voice a low vibration of pure power, "that the threads are being trimmed. I had nothing to do with the mother anyways. By tomorrow, We will have our merger, our contracts, and our peace. The girl will be a ghost, and my son will be a man. Whether he likes it or not." Tony Williams raised his glass. "To the merger, then. And to ghosts." They clinked glasses. The sound was sharp, like a bone snapping.

There was only the next threat, and the next. Headlights swept across the front windows, followed by the screech of tires and the slam of car doors — Declan’s men, finally, pouring through the front entrance with weapons drawn, shouting orders, fanning out to secure the remaining guards still groaning on the floor. The tide turned in an instant, five against two becoming five against a dozen, and the Ghost saw it happen in real time.

At the far end stood a throne shaped from bones and black coral. The child floated above it. The false king lowered the Tide Crown onto the throne. “It remembers its first master.” Raiken pushed himself upright. “That throne does not belong to you.” The false king laughed. “No.” The child opened her mouth. A man’s voice came from her body. “It belongs to me.” The red water climbed the steps. Her small shape stretched. Bones lengthened. Silver hair darkened into a river of black. When her feet touched the throne, she was no longer a child.

This baffled me as I kept walking up the stairs. I was yet to see guards whom I always saw everyday damned day but now, where I needed them the most, they suddenly vanish. I seemed to have been walking for twenty minutes when I soon stopped before a wide mahogany door which also had two guards standing by each side. Not only that, but I needed not to ask if Mr. Red eye was there because I could feel his presence. Call me stupid! “Good morning, is Mr….err, Is your boss in?” I asked one of the guards, who appeared as if he was dead. I was yet to get used to the unique appearances of everyone I saw in this castle. I mean, they all looked like 'the walking dead!'.

Chapter 57: The Rogue’s Throne CASSIAN’S POV I waited patiently like a predator eyeing a prey that is walking directly into a trap. Sitting on my heavy black throne which was carved from wolves bones and obsidian, I crossed my legs as I let my index finger drum a slow rhythm against the armrest.