Damien Thorn Hellpark Novels & Stories

My hips rock involuntarily, my breaths coming in slow, soft pants. “Fuck.” My eyes snap to Lucien as he softly mutters that word, and I watch as he adjusts himself, eyes locked on me, roaming from my panting face to my pumping fingers. My cheeks burn, so I look forward, but my eyes land on Thorne instead. The smug grin always on his face is fading, now replaced by a dark look of raw hunger. “Faster.” Damien’s command is husky, pillow-soft yet dangerous as he growls, “I want to hear how wet you are from being watched. Fuck yourself like the disobedient slut you are.”

“I was going to report this morning, but I got tied up with the assignment you gave us. But I’ve got everything already, his name, his family, every detail you’ll want.” “Good. Thorne should head to the penthouse, and you’ll meet me at Pinebend now,” Damien ordered before disconnecting the call. By the time Graves arrived, it was already getting dark, the last traces of light fading against the horizon. He parked behind Damien’s sleek red car, right across from the curb where PINEBEND was stamped in bold letters at the top of the sign. He stepped out, adjusting his jacket, and made his way to the driver’s side before slipping into the passenger seat. The atmosphere inside the car was suffoca

Devon POV: Slumping on my seat in my office, I sighed deeply. This was the first time in the thousands of years I've lived that I'd think about someone so much. The most annoying thing was that my thoughts weren't occupied by a female, but a male at that! " I'm homophobic, for goodness’ sake!” I yelled and smashed the wine filled glass I was formerly twirling. I ran my fingers through my hair, praying to the goddess that he'd leave my thought, but soon got interrupted when the door was slammed open.

The face and prestige of the Thorne family were known throughout the city and beyond. After enquiring at the reception, he was directed to Jessica Willows, who had been sent in in the early hours of the morning. Getting there, Ann was seated there, worry and concern etching every corner of her face. But they were both unfamiliar to themselves. Except that Ann recognized Liam Thorne of the Thornes. “... Excuse me. Is this the ward for Jessica Willows?” He asked firmly. “... Yes.” She replied curtly. Liam, without waiting another Second, swung the door open.

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Damien believed he was that way, and now, seeing Lucian doing the same to him, he understood how wrong he had been. Before Damien arrived at the Black Night Pack house territory, he had been sure his plan was foolproof and he was going to rescue Emberlynn without any form of drama. But he was surprised he had been ambushed. With all that Lucian had said, he seemed to know he was coming to his pack house. Someone was a spy in his and had told Lucian he would be arriving. Damien snarled. Both Lucian, Selene and the spy he was going to kill all three of them as soon as he stepped out of the dratted prison.

“Then don’t become what she is. We fight this together. That’s how we win” ------------------------------------------------------------------ But peace never lasts long. By evening, the skyline bled orange and with it came the next blow. A press leak. Damon Thorne’s name tied to a decade-old scandal involving an international charity, one that allegedly funneled funds into illicit arms operations under the guise of humanitarian aid. Though Damon had been cleared years ago, the timing was damning. The headlines screamed: "Empire Built on Blood? Damon Thorne’s Past Comes Back to Haunt Him" "The Scandal Celeste Warned About. Was She Right All Along?"

She had heard someone speak, but she had yet to process it. When her head snapped backward, her breath hitched at the sight before her, and her body completely froze. Damian Thorne stood at an imposing 6’5 feet, with an umbrella above his head and a gun in his other hand. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal two-piece pinstripe co-ord, with the blazer revealing his sculpted, naked chest.

“Please Papa.” Papa’s face remained impassive. “This is what’s best for the pack. Your are of no value to me in this pack, but you can at least be useful to someone else. Consider yourself lucky that Thorne wants you.” I turned to Damien, the eldest. His face was cold, devoid of any hint of sympathy. His eyes, dark and cruel, met mine with amusement. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way I was breaking apart. “Damien, please,” I whispered, my voice cracking, “help me.”

Unknown number: "I know who you are. I know what you can do. Come to Thorn Tower at 10 AM if you want a new life. Come alone." I stared at the message, my heart pounding. Thorn Tower. Home of Thorn Industries, the most successful tech company in werewolf territory. Run by Kaelen Thorn, the most powerful Alpha in the city—a man so dangerous, so wealthy, so untouchable that even Damian spoke his name with grudging respect. How did he know about me? How did he have my number? How did he know I was Phantom? And why, despite every survival instinct screaming at me to run, did my pulse quicken with something that felt dangerously like hope?