Throne Of Glass In Order Novelas e Histórias

It was only a matter of time before his entire body succumbed to the flames. The throne room was silent. It was like everyone was holding their breath for the young prince, saying their goodbyes. I kept my eyes on my nephew, the last honor I could give him before he passed, when suddenly, light like I've never seen before began spreading in the room. The light seemed to have a life of its own as it went into Avani. Murmurs broke out in the throne room and all eyes turned to the werewolf girl, still kneeling on the floor, her eyes fixed on my nephew.

“The sickness, it’s spreading East now. Even unmated girls. Some say it starts when they dream of silver fire.” Silver fire. I turned toward Lyra’s window across the courtyard. A faint light pulsed behind her curtains, like a heartbeat. The realization struck hard enough to steal my breath: whatever was happening to her…it wasn’t stopping. It was spreading. And the moon above us—our goddess, our oldest secret—was no longer watching. She was waking, and the world was already beginning to break.

Alexander Veylor – POV I laughed before I even spoke. They never learn. I leaned back in my chair with my wine glass in hand, watching the city lights outside my office window. My assistant stood a few steps away, holding a tablet, waiting. “They really thought they could steal from me and walk away,” I said. I took a sip of wine. Mark glanced at his screen. “Sir, Horizon Tech is all over the news right now.” I looked at him. “Read it.”

The memory crystal glowed again, flooding the chamber with golden light. Seraphine shielded her eyes as the scene formed, her mother, Selene Emberlain, bound in silver chains, standing before the Thrones. The great hall shimmered with divine energy, the air trembling under the presence of the gods themselves.

The moment her fingers touched the flame, the world vanished. --- The Vision She stood alone on a barren battlefield. The sky was red, ash fell like snow, and the ground was cracked with rivers of blood. Wolves—hundreds of them—lay dead. Some bore the mark of the High Clans. Others wore Kael’s crest. In the center stood the Throne. And on it—the Thirteenth. He looked at her. Smiled. “This is what you’ll bring,” he said. “No matter how hard you fight.” Aria trembled. “You’re wrong.”

The key slid inside easily with a metallic groan. Beyond the gate, the air changed. Heavier. Charged. Shelves warped with age, scrolls bound in wolf hide, tomes inked in ancient bloodline dialects. There was something dark that pulled her inside. Her fingers trembled as she scanned the shelves until one title pulsed in the low firelight. "Prophecies of the Shattered Thrones." She opened it carefully. The parchment crackled. And there it was. A single passage written in red... "When the flame returns, crowned or chained, she shall awaken the power of her bloodline and bring the tyrant to his knees. She who bears the mark shall bind or break the cursed throne."

The Throne shatters and grows in the same breath, spines twisting like serpents. And in the heart of it— Us. Burning. Breaking. Becoming. The Throne roars a promise in my skull: If I can’t have you, I’ll take HER. And then— Everything goes white.

It burns through every name he tried to use as a collar. Queen. Mate. Vessel. Blood. Property. The mirrors fracture in full. Across every shard, a thousand versions of me move. One walks from the throne. One breaks the chain around her wrists. One closes Kael’s eyes and rises. One stands between Lily and a blade. One places both palms over her heart and refuses to be hollowed out for anyone’s future. The glass fills with footsteps. Every version walking away. Every lie losing its body. Draven’s face goes pale.

She steps forward, calm but commanding. Ceres: “Let them open the gates. Or we break them.” The ground hums. Magic flares. And then, in a swirl of moonlit ash, the pack vanishes, becoming streaks of flame and mist running toward the city from all directions. --- Scene 7 – The Crown Cracks Setting: Throne Hall. Arion sits on the Flame Throne, head bowed. The Flame Crown on his brow suddenly begins to flicker wildly—red, then black, then blue.