Throne Of Glass Synopsis Book 1 Novels & Stories

Vaelora POV The fair king set aside his black sword, his sable cloak flowing behind him. His ginger locks covered his eyes, his handsome face cold with the rage of the fighting and war surrounding him, and “And his legs look like toothpicks,” I muttered to myself. I’m just opening my eyes for the first time this morning, and the first thing I see is this drawing. The morning sunlight bashed into my eyes from the open window, and I had to squint and groan at yet another day of a boring life.

' I thought before closing my eyes as the shouts of my family members echoed around me. Author's Note- Hello my dear readers. This chapter marks the end of My Personal Lycan king (Book-1). The next book in the series is called My Personal Lycan King (Book-2) and is available on Goodnovel to read. I hope you like that book as much as you liked this one. I hope guys can support me like this. Love you all my lovely readers. Your Clumsy Authoress, Angelina

Her pain multiplied, and he had to close his eyes against it. “For five years, you will weep blood before the fiery pits of hell take your soul. On the eve of your next birthday, the blood moon will rise, and the souls you’ve taken will claim their vengeance.” It was funny how he could recall every single word she had said. He could remember her voice and the gurgling as she slowly drowned in her blood. He could remember the blood streaked through her blonde locks and the light dimming from her blue eyes. She had given every last part of herself to that curse.

There are five vampire Thrones and each of us have our duties. The First Throne, the North: ruled by Marcellus. He's the oldest vampire male amongst us, created by the same master as myself although we both have never served our sire before. We don't even know him, but somehow, we both can feel him. We know he's alive, but why he has never claimed us, we don't know. And if there's anything Marcellus and I have in common it's that we aren't going to serve any master, no sire. We have our Thrones. We are kings, not slaves, and we'll do anything to protect that legacy. The Second Throne, the East: ruled by Akasha. She's the oldest vampire female amongst us. She is a devious and ferocious warrio

I am trying not to return to the apartment and find them together. “Do we know how Mathius’s meeting went yesterday?” Emmy asks. “From what Dylan told me, it went well. I guess the woman, Nayleen, that he met with was incredibly helpful.” Sapphire answers. So that is the woman's name. Damn, even her name is beautiful as she is. Once again, the apartment is dark, or that is what I thought. Someone left the dimmer light on, making the living room look like something out of a romance novel that Sapphire reads. She is into those fantasy/paranormal romance stories. Has Dylan caught her reading them? Giant hands grab my hips as I touch the switch to turn it off. I scream as I am pulled ba

A father who had nearly destroyed one son and unknowingly left the other carrying a crown built from the same system. Ignisvath transformed one hand. Golden claws emerged. He tore the dragon crest from the throne. Draven did the same to the opposite side. Together— they broke it. The throne cracked. Ignisvath breathed fire. Gold engulfed black stone. Emmy’s amethyst magic joined it. Not because she needed to. Because she chose to. Violet wrapped gold. The throne burned. When the flames died, only ash remained. And fragments of amethyst. Ignisvath stared at them.

she began, her voice dropping into the familiar, melodic rhythm of a storyteller, "in a kingdom hidden from mortal eyes, there lived a girl named Lira. Her home was not merely a place, but a song. It was a meadow of impossible flowers that chimed softly in the breeze, where the light dappled in shades of pearl and amethyst, and the very air hummed with ancient, peaceful magic. "But one day, the song faltered. A seer, her eyes clouded with visions of smoke and steel, spoke a prophecy before the Fae Queen. 'When iron seeks to bleed the flower,' she rasped, 'And greed consumes the sunlit hour, a child of meadow, fair and slight, must wed the darkness, bring the light.' A shadow had fallen acros

CHAPTER ONE: THE YOUNG LADY RUINED THE MEETING ROSE AMARA'S POV Kingdom, throne, blood, gold, and power. You have nothing if you don't have any of these. It involves more than just being at the top. No one can touch you or others nearby if you are high enough. Nobody looks at you because they are afraid of being blinded by the non-negotiability you reflect back at them when they do. That’s why I don’t and will never stop.

Lucian whispered, trailing his finger over her face. Finally, Lucian left the room. The book sat on the desk, its dark cover gleaming ominously. He could feel its pull, the promise of power and throne. But one thing rang in his mind, he had to find her, and for the first time, Lucian felt a glimmer of light. But the battle was far from over. The shadows within him stirred, restless and insistent, opposing him from making a stupid step again.

An excellent one to be precise and that was what had kept him employed. In the seat beside him was a woman. She had long, blonde hair that when allowed to move with gravity, neared her waist. She was dressed in a silvery gown and looked like a queen. What she lacked though, was a crown on her head and three dozen guards watching her every step. She was Sarah, Harold's stepmother. In the seats behind the driver and Sarah was Harold and someone who was bound to make his next two years in Golden Lake University more miserable; Maximus (or Max for short).