What Chapter Is The Throne Scene In Iron Flame Mga Nobela at Kwento

Sylvia's whole body leaned close to Liam, she realized that Liam's body was very hot, like a volcano about to erupt. “Liam, you have a high fever! Let me call the maid.” Sylvia yelled out in fear, her hand still clutched by him. “No need to call people, I don't want to see them! You do it yourself.” "You..." He really considered her a servant, and wanted to force her to take care of her. “You disagree? Do you still intend to escape?” Liam coughed, the sound caught in his throat menacingly. “I didn't… didn't run away.”

She gritted her teeth, exerted tremendous force to lift the upper half of my body, and dragged me out of the laboratory step by step. The scorching air roasted our skin. Even a handful of Serena's hair had been seared, the end of those burnt strands glowing faintly. Despite that, Serena didn't seem to be in pain while dragging me ahead. Conflicted emotions stirred in my chest as I peered at her side profile, which had been stained with ash. I struggled to raise my hand and look at my watch. There wasn't much time left. We would die here if we didn't leave now.

Then, out of nowhere, Rosa shoved me, sending me sprawling to the ground without a chance to brace myself. "Did I make the mistake of treating you too kindly, Elena? You think you can steal Sebastian from me? He's clearly my man, my Don, and I'm his wife. Spin one more tale about us, and you'll regret it," she spat, standing by Sebastian's side as if I were the homewrecker. Sebastian just watched, his face a mask of nothingness, as if he could not care less, silently backing up Rosa. Staring into Sebastian's icy eyes, I scoffed at myself and said, "Alright, I'll delete it right now!"

The key slid inside easily with a metallic groan. Beyond the gate, the air changed. Heavier. Charged. Shelves warped with age, scrolls bound in wolf hide, tomes inked in ancient bloodline dialects. There was something dark that pulled her inside. Her fingers trembled as she scanned the shelves until one title pulsed in the low firelight. "Prophecies of the Shattered Thrones." She opened it carefully. The parchment crackled. And there it was. A single passage written in red... "When the flame returns, crowned or chained, she shall awaken the power of her bloodline and bring the tyrant to his knees. She who bears the mark shall bind or break the cursed throne."

The Throne shatters and grows in the same breath, spines twisting like serpents. And in the heart of it— Us. Burning. Breaking. Becoming. The Throne roars a promise in my skull: If I can’t have you, I’ll take HER. And then— Everything goes white.

"Let her watch the lowlands drown from her seat." ​The grand throne room is a landscape of humiliation. ​The high, cracked glass windows look out over a lower courtyard that is entirely consumed by fire and blood, the black liquid shadow of Clyde’s wolf-spirit thrashing against a sea of western iron below. I am shoved onto the cold obsidian throne, my silver-cuffed wrists resting heavily on the stone armrests, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps as the silver poison burns through my skin. ​Diana paces before the dais, her grey silk kirtle trailing in the dust, her eyes fixed on the low, beautiful curve of my stomach. Malakai’s spies were thorough; she knows exactly why my fire is broken

And then she placed one hand flat against her chest— —and the other outstretched toward mine. And then, the shard in my palm screamed. Images poured into my mind. Not memories. Images of Visions, fire, and chains. The first Matron’s bones cracking under the weight of her power. Wolves kneeling in ash. Blood fills ceremonial runes. And one word repeated across each scene— Flameborn. Then I saw her. Not the girl on the throne. But myself. But older. Ancient. Burning from the inside out. And in my arms, I held a baby. With black eyes. And runes on her tongue.

Her bodyguards swarmed me, a flurry of fists and boots coming at me from all sides. I fought back with all my might, but against those muscular men, I was overwhelmed and forced to the ground. I curled up, doing my best to shield myself. Nicole let out a piercing scream and threw herself over me, her small body trying to fend off the blows meant for me. I called out to her weakly, unable to push her away. Desperate, I managed to roll over, pulling Nicole underneath me to protect her. I barely cracked my eyes open, squinting at Simon a short distance away.

“This… this is not written in any of our scrolls.” Zyn frowns, glancing between me and the Chalice. “The rite was to confirm her dominion over the flame. It has reacted to something incomplete.” “Incomplete?” I echo, my voice hoarse. The fire shifts again, forming images in its flickers: a two-headed beast. A blade shattered in two and a throne split by shadow. My knees buckle. I fall to one. “She is not alone,” Maelis murmurs. “She cannot reign alone.”

“She’s in pain” “She’s being tested!” Lucien snapped. “This place was designed to awaken the heir. If you interfere, you could kill her.” Kael growled low but stayed back. Aria writhed on the ground, visions flashing behind her closed eyes. Fire. Screams. A woman with violet eyes and silver claws standing on a throne of ash. “You are not only Luna. You are the Flameborn. The one who must choose.” She saw wolves bowing. Others are burning. A kingdom broken in two.