Juniper And Thorn Novels & Stories

The soup was cooling fast and starting to feel deeply unpleasant against my scalp. And I stood there dripping and something clicked into my brain Eden Thorne. Betrothed to Rook Voss since they were kids Vera Thorne, the eldest. Betrothed to Zade. Lyra Thorne, the youngest. Betrothed to Cal. Three sisters. Three brothers. An arrangement that had probably been signed and sealed before any of them were in secondary school. And then there was me. Standing in a cafeteria full of phones and laughter with hot soup running down the back of my neck, bonded to all three of them by something neither I nor the Voss brothers had asked for.

Moonbound Deception Chapter 2: Awakened Bonds The forest seemed to hold its breath as I stood there, half-naked and trembling against the ancient tree, my body still humming from the aftershocks of release. Thorne rose from his knees, his silver eyes dark with hunger and a fierce protectiveness that made my chest tighten. His lips glistened with my arousal, and the sight sent another helpless clench through my core. Ronan and Finn flanked me, their hands steadying my shaky legs, their own desires evident in the hard lengths pressing against my skin.

The heavy oak door of the library clicked shut behind Prince Alexander and Sophia, leaving Vivian alone in the cavernous silence. The scent of dust and parchment felt suddenly suffocating. The brief encounter had been a whirlwind of cold assessment, unexpected kindness, and jarring proximity between the protagonists – a stark reminder of the ticking clock. *Tomorrow.* The word echoed, a death knell for her fragile amnesia act and her precarious hold on survival.

They stood there as the garden bloomed around them. The thorns were still there. But so was the beauty. So was the vow. So was the wind.

The cold wind instantly howled through the open door before Jenkins slammed it shut. Left alone in the quiet backseat, Thorne grumbled under his breath. He unlocked his tablet again, swiping through his unread emails. One minute passed. Then two. "Jenkins, hurry the fuck up!" Thorne yelled, assuming the driver could hear him through the glass. No answer. Frowning, Thorne knocked hard on the dividing glass. "Jenkins!" Still nothing. Annoyance quickly morphed into a sharp prickle of anger. Shoving his tablet aside, Thorne unbuckled his seatbelt. He pushed the heavy passenger door open, stepping out into the biting winter air.

“Did he... did the ceremony go through I ran? Is it him? Is he marking me over the woods?” “No, no,” Jax answered, and his face burnt in the flickering fire-light, his voice shook in a manner that seemed to me more than the suffering. "Thorne is a Blackthorn. They have a jagged thorny crown and it is the sign of power and blood. This... this is something else. It appears to be the leftover of the Old Gods, the sign of the First Packs. I have never even heard of this in the forbidden scrolls. It shouldn't exist, Jessica. This has not been witnessed on this earth in centuries.”

The kitchen’s hearth burned low; the world outside was a slow, distant thunder. “They are counting on the noise of a festival to drown their work,” Thorne said finally. “They think we will drink and sing and forget to look behind our hands.” “They will always count on what they think we are,” Liora replied softly. “They assume we stay the same. They do not imagine we will change.” Thorne looked up. For the first time since he had crossed the border under Theodore’s seal, he allowed himself the possibility that the moon might favor a different kind of cunning—one that did not rely on poison.

The ink is still fresh, the skin around it very pink. He’s a new member. “Brotherhood,” Thorne spits, “Just like I thought. Should have known. Damn, mercenaries making dirty blood money off of both sides. Witch hunters for the wolves, wolf slayers for the witches, and using both our magic for their twisted sense of purity.” He kicks Zion’s now still form as he dusts himself off. “Fucking parasites.” What has happened in Thorne’s life to make him hate so strongly? Seeing my continued distress, Thorne stands a little straighter, his expression softening as does his best to comfort me.

He started the engine, and soon we hit the road. ___________ SILVERBANE PACK On the elevated platform of a throne hall where the throne of the Lycan King sat, at the head of the seat, was his name written boldly: Alpha Thorne. The throne was made of silver thorns, the one weapon capable of penetrating through a Lycan's skin. Alpha Thorne had mastered the pain through the years untill his body grew a resistance to it. It was a sign of intimidation to all who saw him.