Novel & Cerita Throne Of Glass Fanfic

Chapter 2️⃣ ❤️ A Lie in the Dark ❤️ Lynn let out a slow, tired sigh that made the golden crown on her head seem heavier than it looked. She leaned forward a little on the throne, her calm eyes sweeping across the room full of tense, frightened clan leaders, each one pretending not to glance at the black scorch where the goblin chief’s body still smoked.

Just held my gaze. The second man cleared his throat. “Thorne, by the way. His beta. And you’re Nova Voss. Riven’s… former intended. Current fugitive, apparently.” I flinched at Riven’s name. “He’ll come for me.” Thorne snorted. “Let him try.” Zephyr’s voice cut through the dizziness. “You’re safe here. For now.” I looked at him. The man who had taken my body, my anklet, and now apparently my life.

“What’s wrong, little Queen? Losing one already?” I reached along the thread with everything I had. Jax. Hold on. Please. The amber steadied—just. But I tasted blood in the back of my throat. His blood. He was bleeding out somewhere in the Spire’s veins. Thorne pulled his fingers free. I whimpered at the loss before I could stop myself. He chuckled darkly. “Pathetic. You’ll come on my cock while one of your mates dies. How fitting.” He spun me, shoved my chest to the wall. Cold stone kissed my breasts through the ripped silk. He kicked my feet apart, notched himself at my entrance—hot, thick, threatening.

“And I suppose you already have a plan?” Sienna’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I do.” She turned her gaze toward the throne, the shadows around it pulsing in response. “The First King was right. Someone must take the throne to bind the world anew. But it won’t be a sacrifice.” She lifted a hand, and the air crackled. “It will be a beginning.” A deep, resonant hum echoed through the Hollow Realm as the throne shifted. The jagged stone smoothed, reshaping into something more defined, more absolute. The fractures in the sky seemed to pulse in time with it, as if responding to her will.

Thane asked, his hand brushing hers again, the bond sparking between them. Alenya drew a deep breath. “Together.” The wolf let out a low, warning growl, and the courtyard shivered again. Night was falling. And the game of survival, power, and fated love had just begun.

Together we climbed the long marble steps toward the throne that had once been stained by my blood. This time— the crown was ours.

The obsidian throne groaned, the entire structure vibrating with a frequency that was neither Silas’s nor mine. It was hers. Silas recoiled, his hand smoking, his face twisted in a mixture of shock and rapture. "She... she’s rejecting the Command? No... she’s Rewriting it." "She’s a Vane," I gasped, finally finding my voice as the pressure eased. "And a Thorne. She doesn't follow instructions." I lunged, my wings slicing through the air with a platinum-black fire. I didn't go for Silas; I went for the Throne’s Core—the massive obsidian diamond at the center of the chamber.

The one I'd buried so deep I sometimes forgot it existed. Thorne was supposed to be the Beta. Thorne was supposed to be Aiden's best friend, his second-in-command. But Thorne had gotten sick at the worst possible time, and I'd been forced to take his place. To become him. To live his life while he disappeared into the background. "The Mistress gave us a purpose," my brother continued. "A chance to make them pay for everything they took from us. From our family." "By destroying innocents?" I gestured toward the door. "Elara had nothing to do with—"

Otsana’s gold mark burned beside me, but its light bent toward the throne like a flame leaning toward wind. Ashina sobbed harder, gripping her stomach while Maelor’s heartbeat echoed through the black bone like drums beneath a coronation hall. The first Blood Feather book floated above the throne, no longer thrashing, no longer screaming, but opening itself like a servant obeying its true master. A circle of old blood appeared around the throne’s base, then spread outward until it touched Blackfang warriors and Northridge nobles alike. Conri shouted orders, but the blood ignored every blade, every title, and every frightened foot trying to step away.

Fifth: the glass between us became a seam. Not heat—recognition. My runes flared coal-bright. His light climbed my bones, gold that didn’t blind; it learned my angles like a language. Cold starlight touched my tongue. I’d been thirsty for it since we met. “Don’t be afraid,” I said. “Terrified,” he said—and didn’t let go. We didn’t cross the line. We stood in it. A thread drew taut between our hearts—no tear, only fit. The wardstones steadied. Sand purred underfoot.