Angry Thor Novels & Stories

There’s a strange clarity to my anger—a focus that makes every sense sharper, every movement precise. The moment I reach the edge of the hideout, I don’t stop to think. I kick down the door, wood splintering under the force of my boot, and I step inside, feeling every ounce of anger, every piece of heartbreak, flood through me like a dam breaking. The witches turn, eyes wide with shock, but I don’t give them a chance to scream.

"I just want to go home! Please! Please just let me go home!" "This IS your home!" His voice was so loud. "I am your home! There's no before me, Elara. There's no after me. There's only me. Do you understand? ONLY ME!" His face was red. A vein was pulsing in his neck. But then something changed. The anger faded. But it didn't turn into something nice. It turned into something worse. His expression went calm but in a creepy way. Like when a storm suddenly goes quiet.

"How dare you drench me with a drink? I'm going to kill you!" The man's face contorted with rage, his eyes blazing like fiery embers. His fists clenched tightly, and his jaw hardened in a firm, tense expression. Each word he spat carried a toxic mix of hostility and bitterness. Veins pulsated on his forehead, and his entire demeanor exuded an explosive, seething agitation.

"Our business? It's my business. My life. They shouldn't even have a say in it!" Topher's forehead was pushing against mine in anger. He narrowed his eyes at me, not another word spoken. I pushed back on his head with my forehead. We were both furious, our breaths big and huffy. I could smell the spearmint in his breath and his cologne of sandalwood and vanilla. "You're so damn stubborn that you can't even see the bigger picture. So wrapped in your own anger and hatred that you're not even playing the game. You're not even thinking anything through are you?" He suddenly took his forehead off mine, making me almost fall forward.

What about her? She couldn't help but feel hurt, her chest was tight because of the sudden pain. She let out a sigh because she felt like she was going to run out of breath due to the intense pain. She glared at him angrily. She didn't know what she looked like while doing that. Her friends say that she is not visibly angry because her face is so bossy.

Her mind is willing to grab the keys from her bag, open her car and move away from the area, but her body says otherwise. "Hey, Cherry! Run… you gotta run! That winged monster that Sir Mark is talking about is hovering above your head!" She is deaf from all the fear running all over her veins. Acting out of the desire to save Cherry, John got hold of a twig and threw it at her. This brought her back to her senses! Cherry snatched her keys from her bag and hurriedly open her car, stepping on the gas pedal heavily, she maneuvered out of the parking area in a matter of seconds.

“YOU are being unreasonable.” “STOP BOSSING ME AROUND!” She yelled. “I’M NOT BOSSING YOU AROUND. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO SUFFER ALONE, PENELOPE! NO! I’M NOT ALLOWING IT.” He hit the steering wheel. He was breathing rapidly.

The testing facility would be searched, the test subjects discovered, and Mercile Industries would be exposed for all the dirty secrets they hid from the world. She crouched over 416. His beautiful but angry dark gaze focused on her. Rage burned in his intense glare. She swallowed the bile that rose at what she had to do to him next. “I’m sorry. Really. I have to do this to you.” “I’ll kill you,” he rasped. One hand flopped on the floor next to her. “I swear this!” His throat worked. “I will kill you with my bare hands.”

It wasn't merely the impressive physique that commanded her attention, though, it was the presence that radiated from him, an aura of intensity that dared anyone to challenge him. Where his wolf's face had been touched by an air of vulnerability, the face of the man contorted with a white-hot rage. Ulfhild watched with fearful fascination as the storm of emotions roiled beneath the surface of his hardened features. She closed her mouth with deliberation and tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly as dry as the dunes. Unease skittered up her spine as the warrior faced her mother with a look that burned with rage. "Witch! How did you do this? What do you think to do to me?"

Draven said. “My pack used to take advantage of me.” The room went silent but I could feel their anger. Their rage. “Who the fuck did that fucking shit? I need names right now so I could bury those fuckers.” Thorne punched the wall. His eyes turned a deep red. I could see his wolf desperately wanted to come out. “Fuck, Amara! That can’t be true? Please tell me that didn’t happen.” “I wish it wasn’t true but that’s what happened.” I whimpered as I recalled the memories of what happened.