Romans & histoires Throne War

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’ve heard the rumors. A Celestial Wolf, the last Silvermoon heir. I wanted to meet you for myself. To extend an invitation.” “I’m not looking for a pack.” “You’ve found one,” Kade said, his voice a low growl. “She’s Blackthorn now.” Dominic’s eyes flickered between us, and a knowing smile crossed his face. “Ah. The mate bond. I should have guessed. Congratulations.” “Thank you,” I said, surprised by his genuine warmth. “Why did you really come here?” “Because war is coming.” Dominic’s expression turned grave. “Multiple packs are searching for you. Some want to ally with you. Others want to control you. And a few want you dead before you can become a threat.”

That was impossible, they all feared us and dared not to even breathe wrongly in our direction plus they were all corporate when I looked out the window. “Could be some omegas messing around.” Rowan said with a shrug. Before continuing to the throne room. I will find whoever was responsible for this ruckus and deal with them later. We all walked to the throne room. The throne room was large with dark obsidian pillars, dark stone flooring, perfectly sculpted faces of all the previous alpha kings and queen lunas lined up against the walls on either side. A lot of blood has been shed in this room, faint crimson blood stains here and there, a reminder of what could happen if you step out of line

“Because it’s always true.” They kissed, slow and aching. Then the ground shook. A tremor. Small. But not natural. Kael ran in moments later. “You need to see this.” Outside, the sky was red. Not with fire. But with magic. Above Thornhaven, a massive sigil appeared, glowing in the clouds. It wasn’t Flameborne. It wasn’t Verdance. It was new. A third line. The girl of ice and vengeance had made her move. And the war for the throne had officially begun.

THE ATLANTIC THRONE: TWO HOURS LATER We didn't land. We were pulled. The Thorne-17 was caught in a tractor-beam of pure gravity, dragging us toward the obsidian throne rising out of the waves. Around the structure, the ocean was boiling, steam rising in thick, violet clouds. As we hit the landing bay, the doors hissed open. A legion of Kingslayers stood waiting, but they weren't the white-obsidian drones of the Council. These were "Primal" Kingslayers—creatures of raw shadow and ancient gold, their armor forged from the very first mercury-veins of the earth.

Not everyone had accepted the new thrones. The war was over. But the game had just changed.

But Alpha King Thorne shook his head. “Not now.” Evangeline's heart sank. “But Thorne, the bridge has been fixed after fifteen years. I need to—” “The war begins in two days,” Thorne said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Silence stretched between them. “I will fight with you, my king,” she broke the silence. “You will not.” Thorne's gaze softened, but his voice did not. “You are the Luna. The mother of this kingdom. If I fall, Valtheris will still have you.”

The file titled: "The Valerius Project." Dark Thorne thought the war was over because he had a ring on her finger. He didn't realize that Izaib Moreno was no longer a law student. She was a Thorne. And Thornes didn't just win wars.