Throne Of Glass Fan Cast Mga Nobela at Kwento

“She did it believing you’d survive it.” Daniel’s voice was deadly quiet. “I don’t intend to.” Marcus frowned. Daniel clarified. “I intend to bring her back.” Marcus studied him. Saw the truth. This wasn’t grief. This was war. Eloise stepped forward. “There’s something else.” Daniel looked at her sharply. Eloise hesitated. “She’s been preparing for Vivienne.” A cold spike slid down his spine. “What do you mean?” Eloise swallowed. “She always said Vivienne was the only real heir. The only one worthy of Laurent.”

If we ever found ourselves on opposing sides of a conflict, he wouldn't think twice about crushing me. The four kings and their heirs occupy the rest of the chairs: Pakstan of the North with Pharaoah, Theo of the South with Thorn, River of the East, and me, and lastly, Nathan of the fuckin' West with his second son, Elliot. The latter gives me a scowl, and I return it without blinking. He is a little younger than father in age, but he is still tall, and his grey eyes are exceedingly penetrating. Without sure, he is the one who proposed Bella be wed to one of his kids, who are more repulsive than he is.

My friends certainly have been busy while I was gone. Thorn drops us off at the gate of the glass castle and then flies away again looking for his dragon mate. Guards in front of the castle immediately go out of the way when they see me. I feel a bit surprised that they know who I am. We walk into the first room which is the throne room. There is a big table in the middle with a little copy of the city and strategic pieces. I see the back of a woman with long blond hair, Julias, Holly, and Zeus.

GABRIEL’S POV “Please, welcome Ms. Tara Knight Stone and her fiancé, Mr. Fabien Laurent!” We all stood and clapped. She looks stunning—no doubt she’s a true Knight. I could see the joy in her eyes, marrying the man she loves. I smiled with happiness seeing her finally get her own family. They’re lucky to have each other; her fiancé seems kind, handsome, from a wealthy family, so the Knights would surely accept them. Or so I thought…

"Giselle, Mo didn't mean it like that. Since you like him so much, it'd be nice for us to marry him together, don't you think?" She'd clearly realized something was off with me. She didn't dare provoke me as she'd done earlier. "I am the chancellor's legitimate daughter. Who do you think you are to put yourself on equal standing as me?" I looked at her scornfully. Maurice stormed toward me, wanting to continue arguing with me. Just then, an attendant ran in and said to me, "Ms. Giselle, the wedding gifts that Her Majesty has prepared for you have arrived. Please come take a look."

He wants to ship me off to this bloody academy so he would continue being Alpha while I'm learning what exactly? This felt like exile disguised as honor. A way to get me out of his hair while he consolidated power. The thought made my blood boil. Bullshit, just bullshit. My eyes hardened with anger. Then I heard Riven continue, "The following names are chosen to come study at the Academy." He started listing names from each pack starting from Firstfell and I saw him call Tyrion's buddy from earlier and then finally he got to Grimwell. "Caden Gallen, Kaiya Wilson, Gretchen Everton

Dark threads exploded, weaving a storm of chaos, the abyss fracturing. Jessica’s glow ignited, her voice a defiant scream. “Our love is our truth!” She charged the loom a vortex of shattered threads her hands tearing at the chaos, her glow blazing in golden bursts, shredding Verith’s shadow. Kade fought beside her, his claws ripping through Vynia’s deceit, their hands brushing, his love a fire. Selene’s spells burned Eternis’s void, her cry fierce. Lucas smashed Nihil’s collapse, his fists bloody. Bryan’s glow disrupted Malric’s threads, his voice a vow.

“I have an important proclamation to make tonight.” The crowd leans forward and I brace myself. “These two children, Daemon and Daenerys, will be the heirs to my throne.” Gasps break out. A shrill chorus of them. Some nobles stare at Morris as if he’s lost his mind. Others immediately begin whispering behind their jeweled hands. A few, mostly Rowan and his friends, cheer respectfully. I stand frozen, every muscle tight. Unknown to them, I could hear every whisper. Every insult. Every doubt.

The other six chairs surrounding it were already occupied. "Alpha Ciaran," said a dry, feminine voice. It was Amyra, the vampire queen. Her cold and calculating red eyes locked onto mine with amusement. "Countess Amyra." I bowed my head slightly, taking a seat at the table. Across from me, Zolaiah grunted in acknowledgement. The ogre king didn’t like formalities. His tusks jutted out from chapped lips, and his enormous bulk made his chair creak under him. "Let us begin," Rune Elarion, Princess Regent of the Bleeding Throne, said, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

I wasn’t born to either. I stood alone. The elders began the chant, and a strange hush fell across the field. The fire cracked. The moon seemed to pulse. And then—he walked in. The person with his majestic frame was no other person than Alpha Ronan Thorn. Tall. Cold. Shadowed in crimson. He didn’t spare me a glance. Beside him, Liesendra Silvershadow, his betrothed, draped in silver silk and malice. She smirked when she saw me. I lowered my gaze.