Novel & Cerita Throne Of The Fallen Audiobook Free

Real alarm. “Step away from it.” Liora froze at his tone. Then the throne called her name. Not aloud. Inside the chamber itself, in the mountain, and inside her. “Liora.” My body locked immediately. Because I heard it too. The voice carried through the cavern like breath moving beneath stone, ancient and impossibly powerful. The throne was alive. And it wanted her. Silver light exploded across the floor beneath Liora’s feet as the runes surrounding the throne ignited fully for the first time in centuries.

It was distorted, layered with malice, a voice meant to unsettle and provoke. “Draven, the monarch,” the voice intoned, each word laced with a sinister melody that reverberated in the stillness. It didn’t echo through the air like a normal sound; instead, it seeped into my very being, weaving through me like a venomous serpent. The source wasn’t visible, yet I felt its origin—the throne itself. Its presence pressed against my mind, dark and unyielding, beckoning me with an eerie familiarity. The voice continued, a soft whisper at first, then rising in cadence, its sinister harmony wrapping around my consciousness like silken chains. The throne—my throne—seemed alive, pulsing with an ancient

"They are animals. And you are a Sovereign. You were to be set in gold, not trampled by the swine in the mud like the bastards who are stamping their place with blood and dirt. I am elevating you, Jessica. I am granting you a throne which shall exist forever, and they shall be forgotten as soon as the thaw of winter blows off the fragrance of them.” He indicated to a servant, who came to pour his chalice. This was it. The time I had practised a thousand times in the darkness of my cell. “Tell me, Thorne,” I said, and in a kind of husky whisper, that came down to a low, and at the same moment I felt the effect on his heart and it drew him into the seriousness of my feigned helplessness.

The light collapses, howling, and the hand goes with it—dragged screaming into nothing by Kael’s chains. The silence after is worse than the noise. The Broken City is gone. The spires, the streets, the river of glass—vanished. All that’s left is a plain of black ash under a dead sky. And the Throne. Empty. I fall to my knees. My hands scrape stone. My throat is raw from screaming his name. And the bond— The bond is a thread of smoke. Fading. “No.” My voice cracks like glass. “No, no, no—”

"He's been used. He is being used by Timothy's echo...from my past...he's the one pulling the strings. The void whispers promised him everything, but it's a lie." Thorne dropped his sword, kneeling before her. "I heard voices... they said I was the rightful heir, that her power would make me whole." Kael was bleeding profusely but he remained standing, lowering his axe. "Traitor or a tool, which one?" Thorne looked up, defiance mixing with desperation. "Ally now. I defect. from the whispers, from the lies. But I demand my share. I demand a place on the throne because Ardent blood deserves it."

Mom chuckled and gave him a flying kiss. "Geez, I don't wanna see you guys flirt anymore. I am done. Goodnight dear folks." They wished me back as I went upstairs in my room. Taking a shower, I sat down at my bed. My gaze fell over the book kept on the table. Right, I should start with the assignment. "Myth of The Broken Throne". I mumbled opening the book. The pages were yellowish, a little tattered on the corners, clearing showing how old it was. Nonetheless, the classic vibes were all I needed to jump into the story.

He reiterated my exact words defensively. "Do you not realize the implication of that? You've been in mermaid waters before." The only sound now was from Philip. Then I choked. "What?" I was the most curious. I mean, I had to be. I had almost no idea about myself so every little thing I discovered made me feel better. The scales on my back was on the list of things Tiberius and I kept from the council. And trust me, there was more. "You've been in mermaid waters." She repeated. "At some point in your life, you lived or visited mermaid waters so your blood automatically qualifies as antidote since you have a touch of mermaid."

An old man, clad in tattered robes, stepping forward with slow, measured steps. He stopped a few paces away, his gaze settling on Elior. “I know you,” the man rasped. “You are the one who shattered the Throne.” The man’s name was Orris, one of the last survivors of Dawnfire. He had seen the sky break, had felt the change ripple through the land. “The First King built the Throne for a reason,” he said. “It was never just a seat of power. It was a cage.” A chill ran through Elior.

My mind reeled, and my body leaned closer without permission, betraying my every rational thought. He brushed a hand across my arm, sending sparks up my spine. “You can try to resist,” he said softly, voice dark, “but you’re already entangled.” I shivered, caught in the current of his words, his touch, the dangerous pull between us. My thoughts scattered, replaced by a singular awareness of him. A recognition of something thrilling and forbidden. “I shouldn’t…” I whispered, trying to reclaim some control, trying to deny what my body already knew. “But you will,” he interrupted, voice low, commanding, magnetic. “You’ll fall faster than you realize.”

They were a verdict. Mae’s breath hitched, but she stood taller, violet fire spilling around her like a storm. The Fallen fought her bonds, shouting her name, begging, cursing. But she drowned them out. She had no choice. If she didn’t learn everything the fracture demanded, every secret, every wound, every truth, it would claim her anyway. Her chains rose higher, spreading wide like wings of living light. The air itself seemed to bend beneath the force. For the first time, the champion hesitated.