Throne Of Glass Celaena Novels & Stories

* Zeina * I was drowning. The throne room was ablaze, not with fire, but with screaming light. Blinding, divine, merciless. It poured from every crevice of the marble floor, bleeding from the carved eyes of statues, licking up the pillars like holy judgment. And in the center stood Celine. Celine, Firstborn of the Rogue Alpha father of Cerberus, Celine, the blade the Council kept sheathed in ceremony but forged in punishment. Now my executioner.

Anya of the Redfangs. Kael’s Beta, Rowan, stood silently behind me like a shadow. And then… there was her. Selene. Alpha of the Obsidian Thorns. Tall. Cruel. Eyes like knives. “I heard you found a girl buried beneath the Hollow,” she said, sipping something dark from a steel goblet. “How poetic.” “She’s not a girl,” I said. “She’s a Vale heir. My blood. And she’s dangerous.” “Dangerous to you?” Selene asked, cocking her head. “Or to your claim to the Luna crown?”

Sera murmured, “but he can’t change who we are.” Liora didn’t respond. Her gaze was fixed ahead, her other hand trembling, Not from fear, But from something deeper. The stairway ended in a chamber carved from silence, No walls, No floor. Just infinite reflections of Sera. Each version stared at her with cold, hollow eyes. And in the center of them all stood a throne. A black throne, pulsing with every breath she took, It was made of pieces of the Moon Goddess’s realm, fused with Echo’s ancient sigils, And seated upon it, Was Caelen.

Please, Selena. Please, let Vance's report be untrue. I'd be fine if it turned out he made that story up. I looked forward and among the elders, I spotted Vance. On his right, Melissa sat with a smirk. “Tonight, I shall pronounce the fate of Elana Lancelot, daughter of Late Marie Lancelot." My chest pounded as his voice broke thought the haze in my brain. My fate. He declared “my fate". “She shall become Cassian Thorne's breeder."

That sly old fox. Couldn't blame him though. I had a knack for getting into trouble almost every time I left the house. The council had even once threatened to confiscate my talisman as punishment for breaking laws. Like I would ever let them. My talisman was an anklet with an emerald stone and strange insignia. Every registered vampire received a talisman from the council which enabled them to walk in sunlight without burning. Every council had a special witch to create talismans for the vampires they oversaw. I was different, I knew it. I never knew my mother. I was found in Lycan Woods by Tiberius who was hunting. Lycans and Vampires maintained a treaty, so far neither disrupted the peace

Elara’s vision blurred with fury and fear. She rose slowly, her voice trembling. “Then they’ll regret it.” --- The Flamebearer’s Game Far away, in the obsidian tower of the Crimson Order, Caelum knelt within a circle of runes—his wrists glowing with crimson chains. The Flamebearer stood before him, robes shifting like fire. “You will awaken, little prince,” he whispered. “And when you do, she will have no choice but to break—her heart, her soul, her magic. All for you.”

He sat on a throne of black glass, his hands resting on a spear made of the same liquid darkness as the vortex. Standing beside him was a woman Lyra recognized with a jolt of pure, unadulterated terror. It was the original Silver-Crest Queen. Her mother. But she didn't look like a prisoner. She looked like a priestess. "You came," the Queen said, her voice echoing in the silence like a thousand glass bells. "The Alpha and the Shadow. The mistake and the regret." Kaelen—or the thing that wore his face—stood up, the pressure of his aura making the ice beneath their feet crack.

Kael's hand finds mine, and I feel his steady presence through the bond, grounding me. "I am Triarch Sulani," the woman on the citrine throne says. "This is Triarch Vex—" she gestures to the old man "—and Triarch Kira." The younger woman inclines her head. "You stand before the Council of Three, rulers of Varelle and keepers of the Opal Citadel. State your names and business." "I am Kael," Kael says, his voice steady. "Formerly of the Ardorfell royal line, now exiled. Cursed bearer of the Bloodwraith Mark. And this is Sevia of Eclipsehaven, dreamweaver and my bond-mate."

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....”

"You will awaken the full authority of the Moon Heir." Lyra stared at the broken throne. "And Malachor?" Elara's voice softened. "He will feel it." As if summoned by her words, the entire chamber shook. A deep roar echoed from somewhere above, then a crack. The walls trembled. Kael immediately drew his sword. "He's close." Selene moved toward the entrance. "Then we don't have much time." Lyra stepped toward the throne. Her wolf stirred. This is ours. She reached for the broken stone. The moment her fingers touched it, pain shot through her arm. She gasped. Silver markings raced across her skin, then crimson veins of energy appeared alongside them. The throne began glowing.