Novel & Cerita Throne Of Glass

And there it stood. The Blood Throne. It was carved from obsidian, veins of red crystal pulsing through it like a beating heart. The floor was cracked around it, as though the throne had erupted from the earth. Before it knelt a man. Or what was left of one. He was bone and ash wrapped in black robes. His hair was silver, his skin like charred marble. He did not look up—he only whispered in a language none of them understood. Aelin whimpered. “He’s trying to bind to me. To make me sit.”

And in a voice as old as the stars, she said: > “Then choose, flamechild. Sit the throne—or watch your twin take your place.” --- Silence. Theron trembled. Selene felt her heart split. And then— He turned. And walked away from the throne. “No,” he said. The realm trembled. The Queen laughed—once. And vanished in fire. --- The throne cracked. The girl disappeared like smoke. The realm pulsed once—twice— And began to collapse. --- Kael grabbed Selene’s hand. “Go!” They ran—Elira holding Theron’s hand, Rowan and Naeria shielding them with bursts of raw magic as the mirror realm crumbled behind them.

The battlefield was seconds from devolving into bloodshed. And then the ground itself split open. With a thunderous crack, the earth beneath Serena trembled and tore. Black stone erupted upward, jagged and gleaming, forming into something vast and terrible. The shape rose higher and higher until it cast its shadow over the entire clearing. A throne. Carved from obsidian, veined with veins of glowing violet light. Half temple, half prison. The Shadow Throne. Serena stumbled back, but the shadows around her seized her wrists, pulling her forward. She struggled, heart pounding, but her own wolf’s voice whispered in her skull.

No writing, no instructions, just empty parchment. Disappointment crashed over me until I noticed something. In the moonlight filtering through my window, faint silver letters began to appear on the first page, glowing with the same light as my pendant. To my dearest Aria, If you’re reading this, then I am gone, and the time has come for you to know the truth. You are not broken, my sweet girl. You are powerful beyond measure. You are the last surviving heir of the Silvermoon Royal Bloodline. The curse I placed on you was born of love and desperation. I knew they would come for us. I knew we couldn’t escape. So I made you invisible, made you appear so worthless that no one would see the thre

The last thing I saw, right after the sharp pain stabbed into the back of my neck, was the icy, emotionless face of my brother, Sean Lawson. When I regained consciousness, I found myself trapped inside a huge glass box. My hands and feet were bound so tightly that I could not move at all. "Sean, you know I have claustrophobia! Please let me out!" I kept screaming, my voice breaking as I begged. Sean did not even look at me. Instead, he gently wiped the tears from Wendy Roberts' eyes.

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.

Vivienne Laurent had learned long ago how to disappear in plain sight. She stood at the far end of the ballroom, beneath a crystal chandelier that glittered like a frozen constellation, holding a champagne flute she had no intention of drinking. The glass tower of Laurent International loomed beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, its mirrored surface reflecting the city lights below. From a distance, she looked like exactly what she was supposed to be: a poised billionaire heiress, draped in silk, her dark hair swept into an elegant twist.

Nora picked up the folded paper. She didn't open it. She held it. "You want the throne," she said. "Yes." "And you want me to trust you." "Yes." "Those two things are going to conflict at some point." "Probably," he said. "When they do, I'll tell you." He held her gaze without wavering. "I want the throne through legitimate succession. If Caspian fulfills the anchor requirement and succeeds, the succession is his by right and I'll accept that." He paused. "What I won't accept is the succession being built on an arrangement that's being managed dishonestly. But then. if the anchor is being kept in the dark about the terms of her own arrangement

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

I traced the hand holding the gun, and my sight met that of the pair of eyes that'll forever hunt me. They were bloodred eyes!