A Crown Of Thorns And Roses Novels & Stories

If anything, Obscura was taking a breath. I slowed when I reached the eastern courtyard. Things had changed overnight. Someone had arranged flowers at the base of one of the stone walls. Colorful and full of life, juxtaposed against the devastation of the rubble. Beside them were trinkets. Pieces of jewelry, shards of magic, curled-up notes weighed down by stones or ribbons. I crouched down a little closer, inhaling shakily before taking it all in. Reading the names that had been lovingly scribbled in remembrance for those we had lost.

Cecilia rose to her feet. Her usual cool and aloof demeanor showed, but her eyes betrayed a hint of defiant tears. She snatched the lemon juice from Holly's arms, ready to down it in one go. Luke quickly moved, panic written all over him, "No, don't drink that. You can't drink cold drinks." He turned back, shooting Holly a glare that could freeze fire. It was the first time he had ever looked at her with such annoyance and revulsion.

I held my breath, breaking out in sweat as his proximity made fear spread through my now shivering frame. "You see... The Black Rose is a bad crowd to stick with. They'll lead you to your death. As a friend and a man who's insanely attracted to you... I advise you to cut all ties with them." His smile remained on his face, his voice still the same low, soft lilt it had been since he started speaking. Yet... There seemed to be venom in every syllable, burning through my skin like acid, making my heart pound painfully against my chest. I was afraid. This man... there was something about him, something sinister. He was going to hurt me. He wanted to hurt me.

Damon drifts toward center ice and stops at the logo. I follow. For a moment, we stand where the game began. Where so much between us almost ended. “Funny,” he says. “All that fighting over who gets the crown.” “And?” He looks at me fully. “There was only ever one.” The words hang there. Not competitive. Not sharp. Certain. Only one crown. And it doesn’t belong to one king. The arena lights dim slightly as the crew prepares to clean up. I feel his hand brush mine. Not by accident.

and unlocked the door. He moved her going away from him...he was looking at her without blinking and taking in her beautiful and gorgeous self.. Her white coat that is her pride and signifies her hardwork to her patients, was held in her one hand... Her purse in other hand... A stethoscope, that was, is and maybe will be her favourite jewellery that she always carried around with her, was around her neck.... She was beauty with brains in herself. A perfect combination... No wonder his mom loves her more than him and would stay unhappy everytime Kiara or anyone bought up the topic of their marriage ceremony to be held...

It was the memory card that he inserted and kept inside his hand. "I'm sorry, Mina. If I didn't protect you and forgive me if I do." I said and gradually peeled off the marked seam on his hand with sharp scissors. It was against my will to do that and I had no right to visit him at his grave because I was able to save him in those moments. After I got the small memory card from him, I also immediately put his grave back in order and I also offered a white rose as a farewell to him and because I know that flower is his favorite. I also left a prayer for him to help us end this crime and punish the people who should be punished, especially the person who did this to him.

Instead, her hands stayed on her face, caressing and nibbing. ‘How did she get to this? She remembered insulting the man in white at the burial ceremony of her best friend. His beauty hypnotized her at first. His prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw had trapped her eyes in them. His silver glistening eyes devoured her own eyes, making it hard to look away.’

Dorian, Venus, and Elaila were here flower train and they adorned every step she took with flowers. As Kaerlia stepped forward to ascend to the throne, the crowd's collective breath seemed to catch. The luna crown, a delicate tiara adorned with moonstones and silver filigree, glistened in her hands. It was a symbol of her authority, representing her connection to the moon and the protection she would provide to her people.

I’ll admit that I’ve never really spent time around higher rank wolves since I’m human, but they can’t all be like Ivy and her mother. I glance at Thorne’s father to find him already looking at me. Quickly, I turn my eyes down and focus back on the plans as heat fills my cheeks. So that’s where Thorne gets his intense, searching gaze from. Jeez. “What do you think? Which one is more regal, orchids or roses?” Two images full of blue and white flowers are thrust in front of my face, and I have to pull back to see clearly.

Her Fated Mate, her reason for surviving everything. It was not subservience. It was not a hierarchy. It was recognition — a living web knit of blood, bond, and belonging. Thorn lifted his left hand. From his palm rose a second light — not bright, but deep blue — the color of ancient wells before sunrise. It was not a shadow, but roots. The crown answered him. Its scrollwork thickened, threading deeper into form until it no longer looked summoned… …it looked revealed — like it had always been there, simply waiting to be seen.