Throne Of Glass Novels & Stories

"We’ve spent our lives being used by others. Being programmed, hunted, and erased. If the Heir wants to build a world where no one can touch us, then I will be the one to lay the first stone." He looked around the dusty, rusted observatory. "This is our palace, Ruby. This is the Glass Throne. From here, we see everything. And from here, we decide who lives and who dies." I looked at the monitors, at the glowing map of a world that was now irrevocably tied to my own biology. I felt the weight of the crown I had never asked for, a crown made of fiber-optics and blood. We are the center, the Heir whispered. The world is the periphery.

His skin was the color of obsidian, and his voice, when he spoke, sounded like a thousand screaming voices merged into one. ​"Winifred! Cassian!" Thorne’s voice boomed, vibrating the very stone beneath our feet. "The debt of the First Pact is due! Give us the Crown of Shadows, or watch as the North is turned into a graveyard of the Void!" ​"He is not Thorne anymore," Winnie said, her hand finding mine. Her skin was ice cold, but her eyes were burning with that violet fire I had grown to love. "He is just a vessel for the Master."

That sly old fox. Couldn't blame him though. I had a knack for getting into trouble almost every time I left the house. The council had even once threatened to confiscate my talisman as punishment for breaking laws. Like I would ever let them. My talisman was an anklet with an emerald stone and strange insignia. Every registered vampire received a talisman from the council which enabled them to walk in sunlight without burning. Every council had a special witch to create talismans for the vampires they oversaw. I was different, I knew it. I never knew my mother. I was found in Lycan Woods by Tiberius who was hunting. Lycans and Vampires maintained a treaty, so far neither disrupted the peace

Then he gave a slow nod to his men. He looked at Sergio with unbridled hatred. "This isn't over, not by a long short. I will be back to claim what is mine." One by one, they backed off. Fading into smoke. Into retreat. ************************************************** The silence that followed was deafening. Rosana stood alone in the center of the destroyed hallway, her dress streaked with soot and blood. A shard of broken mirror leaned against the wall nearby, reflecting pieces of her—sharp, splintered, unrecognizable.

The Great Hall of the Blackwood Keep had become a battlefield of competing realities. On one side was the "Clean Room Protocol," a world of shadowless white glass and sterile logic. On the other was Lyra Thorne, a woman who had turned her own agony into a shield of violet shadow.

“Then you reject the North! You will be a Queen of nothing!” “I don’t want a throne of bone,” I roared, my violet-silver fire erupting in a column of heat that shattered the ice pillars. “I want a Throne of Blood and Breath!” I didn't sit on the Obsidian Throne. I Smashed it. I raised the Sovereign-Fang and drove it into the center of the obsidian seat. The volcanic glass didn't just break; it Exploded. The "Too Much" energy that had been bottled up for centuries was finally released, flooding the hall in a tidal wave of Violet-Gold Marrow.

“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.

Paul—or whoever he was—lay there with his throat opened up, eyes staring at the ceiling in a permanent state of shock. Words from my childhood rang in my head: They will find you later. Just stay low. Don’t do anything stupid. Fuck! They had found me. My past had caught up with me. Yes, I, Thalia Thorne, held a secret. I wasn’t human. I was born into the wrong part of the hierarchy. In the Great North, your eyes are your destiny. Gold eyes are Gemini—the royalty. Blue eyes are Capricorn—the servants. But then there are the ones like me. A dark-eyed cub with a cancer mark—an abomination. Black eyes. The ones who didn’t get to live.

He scrutinized it for a long time before saying, "I wouldn't have expected any less of a proper lady of the Chapman family. Your embroidery is top-notch." Something occurred to him, and he pulled out a green moonstone pendant from his sleeve. He gave it to me. "My mother gave this to me, saying that it would keep me safe. I've kept it with me all these years while battling our enemies. I'll give it to you now if you don't mind having it." I saw streaks of blood on the pendant and knew that it had been with Gideon through many life-and-death situations. How could I possibly accept it?

The arm followed, making a lot of steam that hurt the table. "A new place," a deep mechanical voice said. "A world with air. Fuel for our fires." The iron hand grabbed the edge of our table and the wood broke like twigs. I stepped over the broken wood and my right eye turned black. The armor of the Twilight Empress covered my shoulders. The crown on my head shone with a black light. "You have entered the house " I said. My lance appeared in my hand. It was humming with power. "The North does not pay taxes to kings. We do not give fuel to other peoples fires."