Throne Of Glass 5 Novels & Stories

There are five vampire Thrones and each of us have our duties. The First Throne, the North: ruled by Marcellus. He's the oldest vampire male amongst us, created by the same master as myself although we both have never served our sire before. We don't even know him, but somehow, we both can feel him. We know he's alive, but why he has never claimed us, we don't know. And if there's anything Marcellus and I have in common it's that we aren't going to serve any master, no sire. We have our Thrones. We are kings, not slaves, and we'll do anything to protect that legacy. The Second Throne, the East: ruled by Akasha. She's the oldest vampire female amongst us. She is a devious and ferocious warrio

But it was Elara… It was Elara who walked into the heart of the fortress alone. The Throne of Nightglass sat untouched at the center of Kaer Nyx. No ruler had sat upon it since the last eclipse of the First Age. Its surface reflected not light, but truth—twisted, ancient, raw. When Elara approached, the flames behind her eyes flared. She sat. The stone did not burn her. It recognized her. And in that moment, every torch in the fortress lit with silver flame. Later, at the high table carved into the summit ledge, the final council met.

“If they want the power left behind, then we make damn sure they don’t take it.” Rael cursed. “We’re outnumbered, and you just destroyed the one thing that could have killed them outright.” Elior’s gaze locked onto the remnants of the throne. The shattered stone still pulsed faintly, the last echoes of a power long thought absolute. Myrra had said it herself, voids were meant to be filled. Which meant there was still power left. A plan formed in his mind, reckless and desperate. “Myrra. Can you channel what’s left of the throne?”

Ana (voice thick): “Eight treasures down, thirty-nine still sleeping. Tonight we wake the ninth.” She leads us past the church, up a frozen path to an ancient hay barn that smells of cedar and centuries. Inside stands the Winterglass Mirror: tall, black ice veined with silver, humming like a hive. It doesn’t show our reflections. It shows futures we’re terrified of. - Me on a throne of frozen blood, crown complete, eyes empty. - Remy kneeling, broken, dagger at his own throat. - Seras burning everything she loves because she couldn’t stop it.

Every vampire born or turned had to be registered under the council, a body of five special vampires who ruled over every vampire in the country. Each member known as an elder. We all had to answer to them but I answered to no one. I was the girl whose birth was unscented, undisclosed. I had never met my mother, so I had no knowledge about authority as it went until I was nineteen. I had gone on a raid with a few of my friends as usual like the scavengers we were but I got caught by a protector. Being dragged like an animal to the council when my name wasn't found in the registry was one of the worst days of my life, the humiliation was real and I had swore to never relent to them. Suffice t

The great audience hall buzzed with restrained tension as the neutral houses arrived under heavy escort. Sunlight streamed through the high stained-glass windows, painting the marble floors in shards of crimson and silver. Banners of the Draven wolf hung solemnly from the rafters, a silent reminder of who still held the throne—for now.

Claire’s POV All of us freeze. Nobody moves a single muscle. I don’t even breathe. That can’t be true…someone in the pack killed our alpha. The first sound to be heard across the house is shattering glass. The glass my mother was holding is now in pieces on the floor. My eyes turn to her, and I see her knees give out. My father soon sweeps in and catches her before she collapses. He brings her to the couch, next to Bervely who has yet to stop gawking in shock at Sonia. My knees feel weak, and I have to support myself against the couch.

“I’m right here.” I pulled my hand away before he could touch me. “I, Elara Thorne,” I began. The name Thorne hit the crowd like a physical blow. I heard gasps everywhere. Rowan went pale, his jaw dropping. “Elara Thorne?” Aiden whispered, confused. “What are you talking about?” I ignored him and continued, my voice growing stronger. “Rightful heir of the Nightshade Pack and daughter of the true King, hereby reject Aiden Blackwood as my fated mate.”

And that’s what she wants " a voice echoed from the shadows of the machinery. Queen Valerius—. The thing that wore her shape—glided out from behind a huge brass pillar. Her white silk dress was shredded, revealing a body made of condensed, shifting shadow-matter that bled directly into the floor. Her face was a shifting void. Her laughter was clear, vibrating with the collective hunger of the Void-Eater. "The Council thought they were using her to power their paradise " Valerius hissed, her shadow-tendrils wrapping around the base of the pendulum's housing. ". They merely built a prettier cage. When I shatter the glass the Weaver’s grief will ripple outward. The Capital will turn to ash. The

Their gas masks with three lenses started to glow with a purple fire of the Unspoken. ​The map behind Elara moved up violently. The quartz shelf under her feet split open, opening into a chasm of three hundred feet as it revealed the boiling, oil lake of the fifth tier below them. The bands around her ribs snapped with a sound like a ship's timber cracking. This sent her falling into the dark void. This happened just as Damon's hand in armor reached out through the glass dust to catch her sleeve. But his hand didn't meet her cloth.