Your Throne Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

“It listens.” “Thrones don’t listen,” Raisa said. “They remember. That thing isn’t a seat. It’s a curse.” Venn calmly inked another rune. “And yet it obeys her.” “For now.” They both froze as a tremor passed through the stone beneath their feet. Raisa met his eyes. “She baptized a child in prophecy, Venn. And now the throne whispers.” “Perhaps the throne sees what we don’t,” Venn said quietly.

Then It shifted. The dark stone structure began dissolving slowly into liquid light. The golden veins expanded outward and stretched across the chamber floor like roots seeking connection. My breath caught. “What is it doing?” the Alpha demanded. I did not answer. Because the sensation spreading through my body made it impossible to focus on anything else. The throne was calling me. Not verbally. Not through sound. Through resonance. My heart beat in sync with its pulse. The light extending from the throne moved across the ground and reached my feet.

“It is about inheritance.” Before I could move, the broken pieces of the First Throne suddenly began to glow with a blinding, ethereal silver light. Beams of energy shot out from the stones, wrapping tightly around my waist and ankles. “Athena, get away from it!” my mother screamed, running toward me. I couldn't move. The throne was pulling me toward its center with the force of a tidal wave. Buck lunged forward, grabbing my waist with both arms. “I've got you! I'm not letting you go!”

She says making me go silent to listen to her. "Of course, you know that too, because as much as I am happy that you have found someone you can pronounce you love even if it sounds very dumb as its your first time meeting her, we both know something does not sit right, with the king being killed by the stake of Adonis and finding a human that looks just like the goddess, Aphrodite." She tells me honestly as I still remain silent knowing that her words are true and bothering, to say. Adonis and Aphrodite, what is the lord of the heavens planning?

Erin chuckled, and Agustin simply grinned. “I wish.” They shared a laugh, and Erin wrapped his arms around Agustin’s shoulders, remarking, “You’ll have to grow up first before you can sit on the throne,” gesturing towards their grandfather and Uncle Vernon’s majestic seat. Agustin stared at the throne and asked, “Should I? Do I deserve the throne?” He looked at his Uncle Erin, smiling.

* *Sometimes the throne decides to claim its own seat filler…* I’d written that once. Half asleep, half high on caffeine. A stupid line in a draft titled **“Thronebound”** I’d abandoned after three chapters. I watched the man I didn’t even know the name of be dragged up each step to the throne I’d never finished writing and felt my throat close. “No,” I whispered. No one heard me. The man hit the top step on his knees. He clawed at the stone, trying to turn around, to scramble back down. His body didn’t care. His spine straightened, shoulders forced back like hands were under his arms, hauling him up, up, up—

I said, pressing my forehead to his, “that if I am going to rule hell, I’m ruling it with you. We rise together. Or we fall together.” A sound escaped him—a low, ragged breath that shook. “Sarai…” His voice broke. “I would follow you into fire.” “Then sit,” I whispered. He took my hand. And we sat. ⸻ THE ASCENSION The moment we touched the throne, the world erupted. A scream of shadow. A burst of fire. A shockwave of power that tore through the cavern like a hurricane. The throne latched onto us—literally clamping around our bodies like living stone.

Infinite. Ancient. Terrifying. Then visions flooded his mind. The creation of the Bastion. The first war. The sealing of the horror. The sacrifice of countless lives. The burden of the Throne. God. No. Fair. Absolutely not. Reasonable honestly. Then Thomas understood. The Throne was not power. The Throne was duty. Then the First King looked at him. Then: "Now protect them." The ancient ruler smiled. Then his body began turning to light. The prison was failing.

Then she placed her hands on me and channeled a tiny trickle of herbal healing energy. A pathetic, insignificant amount. But in that moment, I started to wake up. The first person I saw when my eyes opened was Seraphina. Isla was passed out in the snow beside me, completely ignored. The memory faded. The world tilted on its axis. Every memory I had, every certainty I'd built my life upon, turned to dust. It wasn't her. It was never Seraphina. It was Isla. It had always been Isla. "So now you know," Chloe's voice was as sharp as a blade. "Who really saved your life?"

The glyph projected a shape, not a man, not a creature, but a throne. A throne made of shadows, moonlight, and starlight woven together—three parts. Triad and Convergent. The original throne. The First Throne. Alessia’s heart pounded. She whispered, “The Architect wasn’t trying to create power.” “He was trying to reclaim it,” Selene finished. The throne pulsed again. —Descendant. —Bearer. —Claim what was denied. Kael stepped in front of her. “No,” he said firmly. “She’s not touching that.”