Novels by Hillary ann

Alliance of ShadowsWriter's POVThe chilling truth of Wren’s ambition – not just control, but replication – sent a ripple of cold dread through the Thorne estate. Noah’s stillness was a constant, haunting reminder of what they had lost, and what the world stood to lose. But grief, for Iris, had hardened into a diamond-sharp resolve. The fight was no longer just for her son's mind; it was for every child, every family, against a future where humanity could be engineered, replicated, and purged of its most fundamental essence. The Thorne family, once isolated in their struggle, now understood that Wren's reach extended far beyond their walls, demanding a new kind of war, fought not just with code and defiance, but with alliances forged in the shadows of a rapidly changing world.Iris (POV)The silence in Noah's room was unbearable. Every breath she took felt like an act of betrayal against the vibrant boy who used to fill that space with laughter. His stillness was a constant, searing

The First Gabriel Writer's POVThe chilling silence that fell over Noah’s room after his screams faded was not the silence of peace, but of profound loss. Iris knelt beside him, her hands still clutching his, but the vital signs on Camilla’s distant monitors screamed a terrifying truth. Wren’s counter-protocol had not just repelled their efforts; it had escalated, pushing Noah to the brink. As the Thorne estate reeled from this devastating blow, the true architect of their torment, Silas Wren, was preparing to unveil his masterpiece, a creation born of ice and logic, a terrifying glimpse into a future devoid of human weakness.Iris (POV)The warmth fled from Noah’s hand, leaving hers cold and empty. His eyes, still open, stared unblinkingly at the ceiling. The silent scream that had contorted his features now settled into a terrifying stillness. He was no longer writhing, no longer fighting. He was… gone."Noah?" she whispered, her voice a ragged thread. She shook his shoulder, gentl

The Scent of TruthWriter's POVThe air in Noah’s room crackled with an unseen tension, a battle waged not with fists or blades, but with memories and neural pathways. Iris, trembling but resolute, held the small vial of her old perfume—a fragile weapon against Wren’s intricate psychological warfare. Camilla, a silent sentinel by the monitoring screens, watched the erratic lines of Noah's brainwaves, knowing this was their desperate gamble. Every second was a breath held, a prayer whispered, as the fate of one boy, and perhaps the future of humanity, hung in the balance.Iris (POV)"Noah," Iris whispered, her voice a raw plea. He lay still, eyes wide and unseeing, a ghost in his own body. She unstoppered the vial, the familiar floral scent, a ghost of her past, filling the sterile air. It was a scent that had once brought comfort, laughter, the warm embrace of a child burying his face in her clothes. Now, it was a desperate gamble.She gently dabbed a few drops on her wrist, then slow

The Echoes of Gabriel Writer’s POVThe soft murmur of Noah’s voice, a single, fragile "Mom?" resonated through the Thorne estate like a tuning fork, disrupting the carefully orchestrated silence Wren had imposed. It was a defiant whisper against the cold, digital hum of the Echo Protocol, a testament to a bond Wren had meticulously tried to sever. For Iris, it was a lifeline; for Callum, a surge of desperate hope; for Camilla and Lia, a brief, exultant flash in the relentless battle against Wren’s code.But Wren was not a man who allowed his designs to falter. The stillness that followed Noah’s word was not a defeat, but a prelude. Deep beneath the city, in his cold, black sanctuary, a new sequence initiated, a new trigger prepared. And as Gabriel stirred, the true nightmare was poised to begin. Iris (POV)"Mom?" The word was a fragile bird, barely audible, but it landed directly in her heart. Iris clutched Noah's hand, pressing her face against his and sobbing. The projector still

The Echo ProtocolWriter’s POVSilence stretched across the Thorne estate like a predator.After the mirror shattered and Noah whispered the name Gabriel, the walls themselves felt colder, as though the truth had seeped into the bones of the place. Security systems malfunctioned in subtle waves. Hall lights flickered. Surveillance blacked out for seconds at a time—never long enough to draw panic, but long enough to plant fear.The only constant was Noah’s stillness.He hadn’t moved from his bed. His eyes tracked nothing. His mouth formed no words.To anyone else, it would have seemed like shock.But Callum knew better.Noah wasn’t gone.Noah was listening.And something—someone—was talking back.---Iris (POV)She hadn’t left his side in sixteen hours.He hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t blinked more than a few times. Just lay there, eyes open, as though waiting for the world to shift back into a shape he could trust.Iris brushed her fingers through his hair, soft and tangled. She tried humming,

The Bloodline Protocol.Writer’s POVThe aftermath of the Hart-Thorne broadcast was not silence.It was war.Across global networks and underground data streams, the truth surged like a virus. Project Eve. Neural conditioning. Biological control. The names Iris Hart-Thorne and Callum Thorne were everywhere—on headlines, on lips, and on blacklists.Governments denied involvement. Biotech firms launched damage control. Some called the leak fabricated. Others called it the beginning of the end.But in a dark control room beneath layers of concrete and steel, Silas Wren simply watched.And smiled.Because the next phase wouldn’t be loud.It would be surgical.Iris (POV)The estate had become a fortress overnight.Private security walked the halls. Encryption locked every terminal. But none of that reached Iris’s trembling hands as she sat beside Noah’s bed.He twitched under the blankets, sweat slick on his forehead, she used a napkin she kept beside her to wipe the sweat. His breath was