Romans & histoires Throne Of Glass Celaena And Chaol

The mirror-Selena moved with the elegance of inevitability. Each step she took echoed with finality, her crown glowing a stark blue that pulsed in eerie harmony with the one fused into Selena's spine. Across the shattered glass plain, the two figures stood—identical in form, unequal in essence. Selena gritted her teeth, her body still adjusting to the ancient weight now embedded in her soul. The name the crown had whispered lingered like frost behind her lips: Aeleth. It didn’t just change her. It restored her.

Their chanting grew louder, faster, the dark magic crackling in the air like a violent storm. I cried out in agony as I felt Arena being pulled from me, her presence weakening with every passing second. She resisted, just as I did, our souls desperately reaching for each other. But we were barely holding on—our bond was now a fragile thread, fraying at the edges, threatening to snap at any moment. “No... Arena!” I gasped, clawing at the unseen force that was tearing us apart. She howled within me, her pain mirroring my own. Kaelvor let out a satisfied chuckle. “You should feel honored, Selena. Few have ever witnessed such power before their demise.”

Eventually, as the sun began to set, she let out a groan and slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the beautiful chandelier dangling from the ceiling above her. When she felt the warmth of Liam's skin against hers, she turned and came face-to-face with him, staring straight at her. His eyes were etched with sorrow, guilt, and love. Finally, he let out a sigh and stroked his cheek gently with Celena's hand. "Do you hate me, Celena? I'm the reason you fell from your throne as heiress of the Stone family and been rendered to nothing."

Selene blinked in surprise and she quickly looked away. Rylan glared at him. “It took us a long time to get here. Tell us what must be done.” His gaze remained fixed and steady on Kael. Kael stood up and moved towards the fireplace, he gazed intently at the flames. “I don't think you'll want to do it,” his tone had a hint of danger. “Please, just tell us,” Selene pleaded. Kael looked over his shoulder. “If you say so. Well, to restore peace and permanently seal the Abyssborn, Selene would sacrifice herself.”

Elira screamed as the crown flew from her hands, landing with a metallic clatter on the ice. Scene Shift – Chaos in the Throne Room Kael rolled across the floor, scorched by the blast. He rose with a growl, eyes glowing gold, claws halfway out. “You planned this,” he snarled. “You didn’t come here to save Elira. You came to control her.” Valen didn’t deny it. He simply lifted his hand again—more fire, more pain. But Elira stepped between them. Her hands up. Power surged through her, wild and untamed.

The tower chamber was quiet, save for the occasional hiss of torches along the stone walls. The morning sun had climbed higher, but its light barely touched the room, blocked by thick curtains of shadow that refused to yield. Elara stood near the balcony, golden eyes tracing the horizon, while Kael remained seated on the edge of the stone railing, crimson gaze fixed on her. The silence between them was heavy, weighted with unspoken words and the pulsing energy of the curse that bound them.

Like I was a weapon they weren’t sure how to sheath. Layla stood first. “This is Alenya.” That’s it? No titles? No disclaimers? A broad, shouldered man with storm, gray hair leaned back in his chair. “Human doesn’t smell right.” “I smell very right, actually,” I muttered. Thane’s aura flared just enough to make the table hum. “This is Cael,” Thane said. “Beta. That’s Maeven, our seer. Orrik, sentinel chief. And Rowan....”

## Chapter 18 ### Vaelora Vaelora's POV I didn’t look back at Zane. I didn’t care if he followed me or if he vanished back into the shadows like the ghost he was. Blinded by anger, I bolted out the hanging, splintered front door and lunged down the wooden staircase, my boots slamming against the steps in a frantic, desperate rhythm. There was one person left in this building. One person who claimed to see things nobody else could.