Throne War Novels & Stories

Their expressions all looked tense, with frowns furrowed and hardened jaws. "We need to start preparing because a major war seems inevitable," Father said. "Several kingdoms are experiencing crises simultaneously. The Eastern Kingdom is experiencing the massive civil war their land has ever seen. "The Southern Kingdom lost their next leader, who had been betrothed to the strongest Alpha in their kingdom. The man accused the King of doing it on purpose and threatened to remove him from his throne. The Western Kingdom is facing serious internal problems within its palace. I believe this is happening under the influence of outsiders," Father explained.

“This is the first fracture in the barrier. He’s already here, Kaïden. Inside your kingdom.” The council erupted into chaos—some shouting for blood, others calling for protective spells, a few insisting I be cast out before I “summoned more demons.” Kaïden raised his hand, demanding silence. His voice carried an iron authority. “Then we prepare for war.” I shivered, my flames whispering beneath my skin. War was coming, indeed. But something darker loomed at the edge of my vision. Thorne hadn’t just left us a warning. He’d given me an invitation.

“If I am to be their queen, I will bleed with them. Stand with them. Die with them, if fate demands.” Kaelen’s hand brushed hers, a fleeting touch hidden from the others. His eyes spoke what words could not: a plea for her to live, a vow to protect her even if it meant his own life. The war horns sounded before she could answer. A deep, guttural blast echoed across the valley, followed by the steady pound of war drums. Shadows moved in the torchlight as Thalric’s soldiers marched forward—rows upon rows, shields glinting, spears bristling like a forest of steel. Siege towers rolled across the field, monstrous wooden beasts pushed by sheer numbers, while catapults creaked into position.

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.

"One that serves the packs instead of ruling them!" Thorne twisted away, blood streaming from the wound. "You're starting a civil war!" "No." I stalked forward. "I'm ending one that's been going on in secret for decades. The war Varyn and his conspirators have been waging against anyone who threatened their power." Behind us, I heard more wolves pouring into the fortress. The seventeen Alphas fought with coordinated precision, their warriors working together like they'd trained for years instead of days. "Where is she?" I growled at Thorne. "Where is Aria?"

The maid quarters were a beautiful representation of the kingdom of Ghandor. In the early morning, a cold air blew back and forth, causing shivers. Multiple groups of men practice swordplay, as usual, with distant metal striking metal. He remembered the maidens and the over ten contenders who are getting ready for the second round, battling for His affection. Prince Kohl reached out of his bed, glanced out the window, and heard a silent whisper, a voice echoing,'she is the queen of the iron throne'. He looked around his bedroom and wondered whether he was having a hallucination. 'No, this is real,' he exclaimed.

∞∞∞ The throne room still stank of ash and blood. Once a jewel of architecture, the high-arched ceiling now bore soot scars from dragonfire. Half the stained glass had melted, leaving jagged holes where sunlight poured in without mercy. The dais had been stripped bare; her father’s throne replaced with nothing but a carved obsidian slab. And he sat atop it like he had always belonged there. The Dragon Warlord. He didn’t wear a crown. He was one.

He didn’t think even the Prince knew how much power he had over him, otherwise, he would surely be using that to his advantage. Alarick never really understood why he had to want the Prince for himself of all people. How could anybody actually like that man? That annoying, disrespecting, untamed and uncontrollable creature. Especially Alarick, who liked to control everything he owned. Thorne cleared his throat, startling him from his daydreams. The snow was ending in the surreal way that gave Maud Country it’s fame, and they were entering Kalise’s territory. “Maudian temper, I suppose.” Thorne said in rough Gythanean. “Prince Erriene, I mean.”

Zephyra Morning comes again. Though my heart still feels heavy, the sun shining overhead makes today feel like it could be a good one. I haven't slept a single wink. I spent the entire week pacing the palace ramparts, giving orders as the newly crowned queen in Theron's absence. The war is over. It took less than a single night to undo centuries of Stoneheart tyranny. Theron didn't just defend our borders; he and Chaol marched their combined forces straight into the mouth of the beast.

Spectators filled the stands in thousands—nobles, warriors, emissaries, and priests from all three empires. Solaris banners crackled with golden flames. Lunaris banners rippled like liquid silver. Noctis banners billowed like dark, living smoke. A gilded platform hovered above the center, holding the Three Thrones: —The Sun Throne of Solaris —The Moon Throne of Lunaris —The Night Throne of Noctis Three rulers sat there, watching. A ripple of whispers spread as Alessia stepped into the light. “There she is!” “The dual heir!” “The prophecy child!” “She looks so young!”