Throne Of Glass In Order นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The scene changed again. We were in the suite in the villa. He heard me pounding on the door with all my strength, screaming for help until my voice broke. He clutched his head, shaking. "No… That's not how it was… I didn't…" The scene shifted once more. It was the night before the final exams. Wendy came to me with red, tearful eyes, begging me to help her cheat. I refused without hesitation, and then, everything unfolded, from how she found those thugs, how she staged it all, how she framed me step by step.

**Chapter 72: The Gathering of Thrones** The summons did not travel by messenger. It traveled by power. *** Through roots that whispered beneath the Eternal Glades. Through shadows that stretched across the Obsidian Realms. Through bloodlines, bonds, and ancient pacts long left dormant. *** Raven did not ask. She called. *** And this time— they answered. *** ### The Throne Hall of Valros The great hall had been prepared long before the first arrival. *** Obsidian pillars rose like black glass toward vaulted ceilings carved with ancient sigils—older than the current throne, older than the war, older even than the line of kings that had ruled before Victoria’s father.

Oh, now I see, you were playing games, trying to make me jealous. "Enough of this, let's sort out the mess at the company first." I passed the bouquet to the bridesmaid and shrugged off Sebastian's grasp. "I'm here for the wedding. You guys can fix your own mess." Sebastian's annoyance was palpable as he looked up sharply. "Is this wedding really more important than our family's legacy? We've both apologized. How long are you going to drag this out?" He sounded so noble, but if he had not let Rosa's antics slide, we would not be in this mess.

The throne-bearer. She walked into the Vault as if she had been walking a straight line through time. Her eyes glowed silver now. She lifted one hand. And the air darkened. And the wolves of the throne started flooding the room behind her. Caspian reached for me. But she spoke directly to me. “The blood remembers its proper name. Come forward, Jasmine Hale.” I stepped back. “No.” Elara shouted, “Jasmine—don’t listen—” But it was too late. The brand on Elara's hand flickered red and hot. And my rune? It answered.

But what they had called was no longer theirs to command. The ritual chamber split under the pressure. Black fire burst through the cracks, crawling along the carved runes like veins filled with poison. Patricia shrieked, clutching her head as stones rained from the ceiling. Elara stumbled back, candle dropping from her hand, her face twisted in horror. And Gloria—Gloria only smiled. Her veil slipped, her teeth bared. She drank in the sight like wine. “She’s waking,” she whispered. “Our queen of ruin. Our key.”

Sebastian’s voice grew distant. Her knees buckled. The world tilted. She heard the faint sound of her name before everything went dark. Sebastian caught her just before she hit the ground. “Aria!” The book on the floor flared with sudden silver light, pages fluttering wildly as if alive. A single phrase burned itself onto the open page in glowing letters: “The blood of the lost shall awaken the moon.” The light faded as quickly as it came, leaving behind silence and the soft sound of Lyanna’s cry echoing from the upper chambers.

The thing weighed nearly twenty pounds, and the old injury in my arm was already throbbing again. Just six steps away from the main table, Anrina suddenly stretched out one foot and hooked it against my ankle. I fell forward instantly. The champagne tower crashed to the ground with a deafening explosion. Glass shattered everywhere. I slammed hard into the sea of razor-sharp shards. Pieces of glass pierced my palms, my forearms, my knees. Leon rushed over immediately. He grabbed the screaming Anrina first and pulled her tightly into his arms before finally lowering his gaze to me, covered in blood on the floor.

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.”

Ana (voice thick): “Eight treasures down, thirty-nine still sleeping. Tonight we wake the ninth.” She leads us past the church, up a frozen path to an ancient hay barn that smells of cedar and centuries. Inside stands the Winterglass Mirror: tall, black ice veined with silver, humming like a hive. It doesn’t show our reflections. It shows futures we’re terrified of. - Me on a throne of frozen blood, crown complete, eyes empty. - Remy kneeling, broken, dagger at his own throat. - Seras burning everything she loves because she couldn’t stop it.

It had a short depth and in total the glass in its rounded shape fit perfectly into her palm. "Before wally proceeds, she would like all to to know that the glass of choice does not necessarily choose the next queen, it points out the lady who will bear the next heir to the throne of Luyota which is why the prince has to be betrothed to that very lady. I shall proceed." she slowly walked over the first little girl in the queue and threw the glass before her feet but it did not break. That was the uniqueness of Luyota's glass of choice. A normal glass has to break if it falls to the ground but that was never the case with the ancient glass of choice. It only disintegrated before the feet belo