Your Throne Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

No one had expected to see her in the park house as the Alpha had made it clear that he did not want to see her anymore, not even around the park house. “It is a good time you are here. We are having a celebration. Today makes it twenty years since I ascended the throne” He smiled as they all walked back in. “Congratulations, father. You have indeed been on the throne for a long time.” She smiled. “Yes, I have and you will soon be the next Luna. I cannot wait to see you succeed me, my daughter. You would indeed rule well and right and my people will obey you. You are a good woman and everyone will love you” He smiled.

He knelt on one knee before me on the day of his victorious return and announced me as the tribe's queen. The others all knelt and bowed in allegiance. I smiled and told Sean to rise. Then, I declared in public that I would never take another mate; I would only have Sean alone. He was instantly so touched that his golden eyes turned red with sentiment. "You don't have to do that, Lynn," he said. "Hush, Sean. Listen to me. You are enough in this life," I said. 'Well, duh. I'm not foolish enough to take on more mates and tire myself out,' I thought.

They think this is a takeover. I turn pleading eyes toward Nathan as an acolyte approaches with my crown. Twenty minutes ago, the sight of it might have filled me with joy but now it might as well be a coiled viper instead of a tiara of silver and rubies. The Hierophant takes it and holds it above my head. “With the blessing of Lycaon, first of our line, first of our kings, you rise Queen Bailey of Toronto and Greater London.” The crown settles on my head, surprisingly heavy, and an acolyte comes to either side of the throne to take my hands to help me rise. Nathan stands, also, and I go to his side. The throne room is practically in chaos, but he just looks triumphant.

“No—no, no—Erevan—something’s wrong—something’s wrong—” He grabbed her hands, forcing their palms together. His shadows wrapped around their skin, trying to anchor her—but they slipped through her light like water through fingers. Her heart hammered painfully. “Erevan—help me—my light—my magic—it’s—” He pulled her against him, voice raw with terror. “It’s not you,” he said fiercely. “It’s the throne.” Aria’s vision blurred. Her light continued unraveling. Thread by thread. Erevan looked up at the throne—voice cracking with rage.

Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. The First Father attempted to summon his power. Nothing. The First Will tried. Nothing. Lyra looked at them. What did you do? Elyon answered. The throne already chose you. Lyra slowly approached. But before she could sit, the floor beneath the throne opened. A massive hand emerged. It grabbed the throne. Kael immediately raised his sword. Everyone prepare! The hand pulled. The throne moved. Something underneath them was trying to drag it into the darkness.

The throne pulsed beneath my hand cold, ancient, unyielding. I didn’t try to melt it with magic. I didn’t speak a spell. I didn’t command it to yield. I simply stood still. And I listened. To the heartbeat beneath the frost. To the silence that had ruled this place for centuries. To the part of myself that still wondered what might happen if I let it all go. 1. The Throne's Voice It didn’t speak in words. The ice sang instead.

I placed my hands over his and looked ahead of me. My breath left my lungs. My right hand flew up to my lips as I let out a gasp. "What is this?" I already knew what it was but I needed to ask just to be sure. \]/Barlion pressed his lips to the side of my neck before he whispered in to my right ear. "That's you're throne, My Queen." Goosebumps erupted on my skin as he whispered the words to me. There standing in front of me is a tall white throne, one equal to the size of the throne in the court halls but different with the design.

Liora stood at the edge of the Citadel, looking down the mountain, Across the valley, forests had turned upside down, trees growing from clouds, rivers flowing in reverse. Reality was being rewritten, And in the sky above the world, a new line began to write itself in living flame: “Chapter One: The Queen Who Knew Too Much.” She gasped, Because that wasn’t the beginning, That was now, And the story? It wasn’t hers anymore. Then it spoke, Not aloud. Inside her. A voice older than memory, colder than void. “You should have taken the throne.” “You should have worn the pen.” “Now you’ll learn what it means to be a character.”

Sophie begged softly. "They will stop it by themselves when they give me a winner" he responded slowly and moved closer to David and Scott. "The beta of this throne will be chosen right here. Fight with the amount of love you have for me and the throne. Fight with the strength you will brandish when you are called upon to defend this Manor" he raised up his fist and brought it back down to start the fight.

A silence stretched between them, long enough that the tremors seemed to still, the chamber holding its breath. Then, the entity raised one shifting hand, pointing at the book still clutched in Rael’s free hand. Read. You will see. Rael hesitated before flipping the page. More script, winding like constellations, unfurled before him: The First King’s folly was in believing he could rule what was never meant to be ruled. The throne does not grant power, it takes. It feeds. It is a door. Rael’s breath caught. A door? To what?