Novel & Cerita Shadowed Thrones

"It's possible that Alpha Grayson doesn't know Thantos's reputation for killing children." The fire in Iselyn's eyes continues to burn as she glares at him. "Screw you." "You're purebloods," Jace says. "Royalty in Thantos's eyes. It's also possible that he'd rather offer you some kind of deal than kill you and waste your blood." "Yeah," Ice scoffs. "So it's really a fifty-fifty split." I say softly. "Between whether his love of blood trumps his loathing of our father."

But that throne changed us all. Even me and him. He was once my guard, my protector. Now, he’s after my kingdom. The path to the throne is paved with thorns, pain and blood. To win, I’ll risk it all. I should risk all of that I have even if my heart is included. --- ETHAN ASH PENDLETON

ROY The throne room was dim, lit only by the flickering light of the torches lining the walls. Shadows twisted and danced across the cold stone, reflecting the brutality that had taken root in what was once Shane’s domain. I, Roy, now stood where he once had, a reminder of the throne I’d claimed through cunning and strength, traits Shane had clearly lacked.

I could feel my flesh burning and I winced in pain. “Stop running. You’re only going to suffer more,” he said as he entered the broken door. I ignored what he said and continued climbing up the stairs. It only took me a couple of seconds before I reached the line of tables in the very middle. The entire library was not in total darkness because of the light slipping through the glass windows from the outside. I ran to the east wing and hid behind the tall shelves while catching up my breath. The werewolf’s footsteps echoed in the air.

Enzo is just happy to have all his ‘brothers’ The night air was sharp with sea salt and memory, Enzo stood at the edge of the pier, hands in his coat pockets, watching the shadows dance across the warehouse district. The same docks where shipments once moved in silence under the veil of moonlight. Where loyalty was currency and betrayal cost blood. He hadn’t set foot here in years—not since he chose a different path. A better one.

His denim jeans pulling tight across his perfectly sculpted arse and legs. Marcus squeals in delight as Lucas scoops him up into the air and tickles him mercilessly. I watch them as a sense of peace washes through me. Remembering my time in the underworld. I had gone by so many titles since coming of age. Hunter, Princess, Wife, Twice Blessed, Cursed, Queen, but the greatest title that I will ever have the privilege to be given, is, and will forever more be, Mother. The End *** Foreword: Hi Guys, I would like to thank each and every one of you for having got this far. I really hope that you have enjoyed Shadowed Creatures.

Her fingers are long and slender, fairly toned, while her oval nails are neatly trimmed. That aside, the sleeves of her top covers the entirety of her arm, but only until the joints of her hand. He thought they were just shadows at first, as her hand was in motion. There were like blood vessels that were traced with a black ink on her skin's surface. 'Strange. . .' "The sun is setting, child. To inform you well, we do not tolerate slothful behaviour here at the Palace." She was not looking at him at all, startling Tristan as he was forced to break his steady concentration.

I asked. "Okay, I will read it out," Seth said. He coughed and sat upright to read the letter. *You failed to fulfill my first request, and I hope you fulfill this one, too, because you might end up losing the remaining three companies I have with me. Here's what you need to do to get your three companies back; bow to the Lycan king because he's the only one that can decide the fate of your company. Go live while bowing to him and your three companies will be released immediately without any problem. Alpha Lucian*

The morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, casting fractured patterns on the floor — much like my thoughts, splintered and jagged. I sat at the small kitchen table, clutching my cup of cold coffee, staring at the leather-bound book *Reflections of the Forgotten* open before me. The stories inside weren’t just tales — they were warnings, lessons written in sorrow and hope. Women who had lived as shadows, trapped in lives borrowed from others, fighting to reclaim their own reflections.