Throne Of Glass 6 Novels & Stories

“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.”

I pat him on the shoulder before we pull apart. ------------- King Orrin's ashes lay in the jar, as every God in Serenacia stays present in the room, honouring the dead king. Octavius, the wizard of Gods, takes over the event, where Orrin takes part in burial ritual of spreading his father's ashes through the Holy line, so he can rest in peace. The signature of white attires compliments the hall, as both God and goddesses, pay due decorum and respect to the late king. My eye meets with Cicero, as the look on his face makes me feel even more guilty of knowing what I know, but still yet, I couldn't call it murder when it is indeed treason.

He gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain, driving the blade deeper. The throne cracked. The ruins trembled as the very foundation of Dawnfire groaned under the weight of what was happening. The Veilblade pulsed wildly, its glow consuming the darkness. The throne let out one final, deafening cry before it shattered completely. And then, silence. The air was still. The darkness had receded. The throne was gone. Elior fell to one knee, breathless. The Veilblade, its purpose fulfilled, flickered before vanishing from his grip. He looked up, meeting the gaze of the First King.

No writing, no instructions, just empty parchment. Disappointment crashed over me until I noticed something. In the moonlight filtering through my window, faint silver letters began to appear on the first page, glowing with the same light as my pendant. To my dearest Aria, If you’re reading this, then I am gone, and the time has come for you to know the truth. You are not broken, my sweet girl. You are powerful beyond measure. You are the last surviving heir of the Silvermoon Royal Bloodline. The curse I placed on you was born of love and desperation. I knew they would come for us. I knew we couldn’t escape. So I made you invisible, made you appear so worthless that no one would see the thre

“And if she’s here, that means Kael’s not dead.” The woman spoke again. “I am Kael’s truth. I am the last flame he couldn’t burn away. I am the Glass.” She lifted her hand The trees shattered, Not exploded. Just splintered. Like ice And from between their trunks stepped figures Pack wolves Long dead, Or… they should be. Liora staggered back. “No,” she whispered. Because among them she saw: Her old Beta, A council elder she’d buried herself, Her first guardian as a child, All glowing faintly, All with mirror eyes.

June jammed the end of the wrench into the Queens chest right where the Queens heart would be. The silver code and the red energy crashed together inside the Queens body. A massive dome of red light exploded. The dome covered the university. When the light went away the throne was gone. The towers were gone. June was lying on the ground. Junes clothes were torn. Junes body was covered in bruises. June looked up. The sky was a dark purple. The red sun and the golden sun were both gone. In their place was a pale moon that shined with a soft pink light.

“Then you reject the North! You will be a Queen of nothing!” “I don’t want a throne of bone,” I roared, my violet-silver fire erupting in a column of heat that shattered the ice pillars. “I want a Throne of Blood and Breath!” I didn't sit on the Obsidian Throne. I Smashed it. I raised the Sovereign-Fang and drove it into the center of the obsidian seat. The volcanic glass didn't just break; it Exploded. The "Too Much" energy that had been bottled up for centuries was finally released, flooding the hall in a tidal wave of Violet-Gold Marrow.

She dropped to her knees, cradling his face as his last breath rattled from his chest. Then she saw the throne. The Moonstone Throne once Kael’s was now draped in black kelp and shadows. And seated on it, like a queen returned to power, was Morgala. Her dark eyes gleamed like voids. “You chose wrong, little tidechild.” Lightning tore the sky open, and the vision collapsed. ......... Anastasia gasped as the Mirror Pool surged around her, pulling her into another vision before she could breathe. This time the world was still.

Tate Glassglow It's been weeks since I last saw her. After Lyanna used her blue flame to close realms, I stayed back here on hell as its ruler. Once the last dragon slayer- the last wielder of the blue flame returns to the human realm, the war continued subsided. There will always be another reason to start wars but the fairies are leaderless, the dragons are almost extinct, the witches lost the one thing to fight for- the blue flame and the wolves had gotten their revenge on the fairies.

The last image burned itself onto the back of her eyes: she saw her hands, glowing silver covered with light and dust, mechanically stacking skulls, the skulls of villagers, hunters, Ash, Elara, building a horrible throne from the bones of everyone she had once loved. Liora gasped, a loud shaky sound, and the vision broke apart.