Throne Of Glass Movie Novels & Stories

He gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain, driving the blade deeper. The throne cracked. The ruins trembled as the very foundation of Dawnfire groaned under the weight of what was happening. The Veilblade pulsed wildly, its glow consuming the darkness. The throne let out one final, deafening cry before it shattered completely. And then, silence. The air was still. The darkness had receded. The throne was gone. Elior fell to one knee, breathless. The Veilblade, its purpose fulfilled, flickered before vanishing from his grip. He looked up, meeting the gaze of the First King.

Bare stone floors, shelves that held nothing but dust, and in the center of the far wall: A mirror. Seven feet tall. Ornate frame twisted with iron and blackened gold, shaped like thorns or vines. It didn’t shimmer. Didn’t reflect. The glass was dull, dark. Waiting. Theo stepped beside her, breath shallow. “That’s the one.” She nodded. “From the sketch.” They moved closer. Sloane stood directly in front of it. She should have seen herself. She should have seen both of them. But the glass was black.

They stood like a wall of iron chimneys, their three-lens gas masks reflecting the schematic map of the human spine like thirty pairs of unblinking eyes. Master Thorne did not let go of Elara's shoulder. The metal screw in his hip twisted and groaned, digging deeper into the white quartz floor. A web of cracks spread out from his leg. They reached the edge of the pool of salt water. "You have no power, Lord Regent, " Thorne said, his voice dropping into a flat sneer that didn't hide the metallic rattle in his throat. "The treaty of the dynasty says the metamorphic tier is separate from the civil tax line. You cannot sign for the west with ink."

The crown hits the marble floor with a sharp clang just before my father’s body does. The hall erupts in screams. I want to shout, to rush over to him, but my voice sticks in my throat. All I can do is watch the blood pool beneath his throne, creeping toward me. The soldiers kneel, but not for the king—for her. Queen Lunice, my grandmother. “Long live the Queen,” they chant, their voices hollow and obedient. Her eyes meet mine. Those dark, ancient, endless eyes hold me in place across the years. “No male heir shall survive,” she whispers. “The curse has already begun.”

The dreaded King Daniel of the Darke stood in front of the stained-glass window in the castle library with his hands clasped behind his back as Imara started to appear from the mist. Unlike every other witch he’d ever encountered, Imara’s mist glowed white and gold like a cloud on a sunny day. There were no white lighters left in the Realm, or at least they kept their existence hidden away. Daniel’s deep dark eyes weren’t used to her shine and he needed a few moments to adjust to her brilliance.

The throne room was adorned with silver and blue in lovely decorations. Blue Silks, white flowers, and Fionn’s new crown was even a literal silver-diamond and the most gorgeous sapphire. No doubt a gift from the Alpha King and the witnessing neighbor Alphas. The throne was made of marble. The roof, just like the Winter Castle’s and this pack's dining hall, was made of glass—visible to the winter night sky. The interior of the throne room was snowing gently but the snow never touched the ground. A light, cool breeze greeted all the attendees. The crescent moon above seemed to smile down at us.

The maid quarters were a beautiful representation of the kingdom of Ghandor. In the early morning, a cold air blew back and forth, causing shivers. Multiple groups of men practice swordplay, as usual, with distant metal striking metal. He remembered the maidens and the over ten contenders who are getting ready for the second round, battling for His affection. Prince Kohl reached out of his bed, glanced out the window, and heard a silent whisper, a voice echoing,'she is the queen of the iron throne'. He looked around his bedroom and wondered whether he was having a hallucination. 'No, this is real,' he exclaimed.

This baffled me as I kept walking up the stairs. I was yet to see guards whom I always saw everyday damned day but now, where I needed them the most, they suddenly vanish. I seemed to have been walking for twenty minutes when I soon stopped before a wide mahogany door which also had two guards standing by each side. Not only that, but I needed not to ask if Mr. Red eye was there because I could feel his presence. Call me stupid! “Good morning, is Mr….err, Is your boss in?” I asked one of the guards, who appeared as if he was dead. I was yet to get used to the unique appearances of everyone I saw in this castle. I mean, they all looked like 'the walking dead!'.

I watched the woman’s eyes go wide as she took in the red, high ceiling of the throne room and the gold cups of the snake-like chandelier that was swinging slowly in the space. “It's beautiful,” The maiden gasped, walking up to the glossy shine of the gold glass walls and scrubbing it back to its shine when her breathing fogged up the pale yellow glass. I followed her tentative steps, touching each gold-lined crevice until we were at the foot of the great dias where my throne was. Small silver skulls lined the frame of the square seat where the diamond had been matted with brown fur.

“Your Grace, we need to kill Shuntha,'' Seti walked alongside Raiden as he made his way to the icy throne. The throne wasn’t made of ice but metal that was painted white, it was almost a century old. It didn’t rust, it wasn’t worn down, the paint wasn’t chipped, and it looked like it had just been crafted. Five fairies that were part of the kingdom forged the throne with magic, the fairies were once respected and loved; until King Atticruss and Queen, Tressa feared them and spread hatred amongst the people.