Throne Of Glass Chaol Novels & Stories

“The mark on your back—the one you hide? It’s not a brand of power. It’s a tether. A seed.” Her heartbeat roared in her ears. He stepped forward again, and she held her ground. “I came to hear your message. Say it, and I’ll decide what to do.” Kael’s expression darkened. “Very well,” he said, voice cold now. “There is a throne beneath the mountain. Hidden since the First War. It belongs to your line—one only you can awaken. But the price is blood. Yours, or someone else's.” He paused, eyes flicking upward. “You’ve brought watchers. Clever. But foolish.”

The Lunacrown Thistle. It glows faintly silver, delicate petals crowned with spines tipped in violet. I take one step forward. And the desert blinks then instantly, I am no longer standing in the grove. I am in a throne room made of obsidian and starlight. Massive pillars rise around me, etched in symbols I have seen only once, in Inferno’s memories. At the foot of the throne, wolves kneel. Dozens. Hundreds. A crown rests in my hand. My hand!

THE HYBORN THRONE SOARED HIGH IN HIS SIGHT. The seat of volcanic glass, as dark as the burnt, reflected the sunlight under the morning skies. Raeherys Alagor walked on granite slabs that floored the wide, elevated temple at the center of Volcron’s peak. Wild trees and ferns and meadow-grasses all surrounded the Temple of Hylos, waving and rustling with the fresh sea breeze.

'Once you fall down there, your physical body, soul and mana energy will fall apart due to the nature of the barrier set in there. '. . the mana flowing in you will be attracted to the closest compatible vessel. . .' Is it going to happen anytime now? Oh yes, he is going to be a significant part of the second destruction of the Kingdom, what an honour. "Thea. . Johann. . " he whispered to himself, facing up from where he believes he fell from. 'I guess this marks the end of it. . .' Having no other choice but to surrender himself, he inhaled the heavy air he grasps, and closed his eyes.

He scrutinized it for a long time before saying, "I wouldn't have expected any less of a proper lady of the Chapman family. Your embroidery is top-notch." Something occurred to him, and he pulled out a green moonstone pendant from his sleeve. He gave it to me. "My mother gave this to me, saying that it would keep me safe. I've kept it with me all these years while battling our enemies. I'll give it to you now if you don't mind having it." I saw streaks of blood on the pendant and knew that it had been with Gideon through many life-and-death situations. How could I possibly accept it?

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.

I put my hair in a high ponytail and with my phone in my left hand, I leave the room. The Grand Hearth is carved into the mountainside, its walls glimmering with crystal veins and moss that glows blue in the dark. Firelight dances across the high arches as the Elders file in, their robes trailing shadows behind them. At the center of the circle is the Flame Chalice. It is a bowl forged from volcanic glass and draconic scales, pulsing faintly with molten light. It radiates a warmth that tugs at the pit of my stomach. Elder Zyn holds out a curved blade, ancient and silver-edged. “Do you accept the rite, Rhea of the Fae blood?”

I want to stand with that. Heat flooded me, unwanted but fierce. No one had looked at me like that since Ronan—seeing the woman, not just the priestess. But Thorne's glare burned hotter. 'Enough,' he barked. 'The chalice. Let's get this over with.' He moved to the altar, filling the vessel from a silver ewer of moon-collected water. His back was to us, but I saw his hand dip into his pouch, a quick sprinkle of powder. Nightshade? Or just the ritual bitterroot? Suspense knotted my gut; I wanted to call him out, but accusing the beta without proof would split the pack.

I murmured, half asleep, smiling against his ribs, warm all the way through. "My queen," Malik said, quiet, into my hair, like a thing he'd known for a long time and had only now earned the right to name. "My queen of chaos. If you'll have the crown. If you'll take a gray careful kingdom and a man who's still learning how to be a person and a whole city full of people who used to be ordered to fear you, and stand next to it all, not under it, and make it yours too." I lay very still against him, and felt the enormous thing his voice was circling, and decided, being who I was, to make him work for the shape of it.

And just like the modern cities that choked the horizon, this empire was built on the slow, bleeding death of the environment it was supposed to protect. In the exact center of the vast, domed chamber, suspended ten feet in the air above a circular dais, was the Anchor Stone. It was a terrifyingly beautiful object—a raw, jagged diamond the size of a war horse, pulsing with a rhythmic, sickening heartbeat of pure emerald and gold energy. This was the heart of the Aegis of Glass. Looking closely, Lucian could see thousands of microscopic, hair-like silver filaments radiating outward from the crystal, anchoring themselves deep into the glass floorboards, pumping the stolen life-force of the Wes