Mina Thorne Novels & Stories

Crap! That was when the most beautiful woman I have ever seen stepped forward and held me by the shoulders. She looked so elegant whilst wearing the simplest of clothes. She was the definition of pure beauty. I felt blessed to have a mate as stunning as her. Then she kneed me in my crotch so hard, I think my balls cracked. “I, Elizabeth Knight of the Crystal Lake Pack, reject the arsehole, which is Beta Vincent Thorne of the Blood Moon Pack, as my mate.”

Thorne: It had been five years since the death of his mom and abduction of his mate, and just as he had spent every evening since her funeral, Thorne stood before at the tree planted where his mother was buried, in her honor. The tree, a sturdy silver oak, stands tall and proud, its bark shimmering with a soft, ethereal glow. Despite being only five years old, it has grown remarkably fast, its branches stretching towards the sky like outstretched arms, providing a canopy of shade and comfort. The leaves, a vibrant green, rustle softly in the breeze, releasing a gentle whisper of wisdom and peace.

It wasn't the Editor. It was a woman who looked exactly like a younger version of Meilin, but her eyes were the cold, calculating hazel of a Thorne. "My name is Christie Thorne," she said, her voice echoing through the new reality. "And I’ve come to collect the Royalty Fees for the 'Prince's' new world." The "Billionaire Romance" had truly ended. The "Dynasty War" had begun.

“So, if Mr. Thorn had not forced you to leave Mr. Smithe you would still be together now?” “No!” Anger was building inside me. I tried to look back at Nick in the hope just looking at him would calm me but the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. My adrenaline started pumping as I clenched my fists into my lap. “Are you sure because we have testimony from Mr. Smithe’s sister, who I believe was your housemate at the time, that you were happy with Dan until Mr. Thorn forced your hand.” “No, it’s not true!” I looked at Dan and saw a sadistic smile creep onto his face.

still reigned, and the old financial standard was the only god left. Avery Vane-Thorne smoothed the fabric of her skirt—a cheap, off-the-rack piece that felt like a betrayal against the $10,000 suits stalking the halls. Her heart was drumming a rhythm that felt like a "Causal-Echo." She was no longer the "Sovereign-Defender" in basalt-armor; she was a woman drowning in a literal debt of a life she had "Reset." She looked up at the towering spire and felt the "Substitute-Bride" inside her tremble. "I’m here to see Dominic Thorne," she told the security console. She didn't have an appointment. She only had the "Somatic-Memory" of a man who had died for her a thousand years in the future.

I said. "Well, well." Mother looked at the camera with a smile, and said, "Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! This is Ophelia Maine, a former model from the old golden years. It's a pleasure to be back to the exposure of the media again. And more importantly, it's quite considerate of everyone to give me a chance to host a talk show with my wonderful daughter, Charlotte." Everyone's attention was on hers, like a queen who holds the entire stage on top of her palm. "But yet, the surprise isn't over yet. Let us welcome another guest who will be with us today… Jake Hayes!"

Thorne stands, and Ryatt, Granger, and Quinn–the odd female warrior who went with them–enter. Quinn gives me the creeps. There’s something about her that feels off. Maybe it’s because I’m not used to seeing women dressed in night black armor with their hair shaved down nearly to their scalps. Piercings cover her ears, and a serpent tattoo is just visible above the collar of her jacket as she enters the room. Granger says, “Everyone up. We’re moving out.” Muffled groans drift through the air. Thorne turns from me, and I quickly choke down the rest of my disgusting drink.

It was everything Thorne had spent most of his existence avoiding. Isolde leaned against the porch railing of the guest cabin Cheyenne had assigned to them. It wasn’t far from the former Alpha and Beta residences, but it still gave them some privacy. Her hair was loosely braided, the wind tugging strands free as she watched Thorne pace the treeline like a caged predator. “You’re going to wear a trench into the grass,” she called, her tone dry. Thorne didn’t stop. “I’m not used to this much… bark.”

“Emily, no offence, you know nothing. Yeah and that is not all that he is. He is also one of our ruthless killers, who doesn’t think twice before putting his life in danger. You can romanticize him all you want, but the devil wrapped in silk is still the devil.” “Yeah but maybe-“ “No, you can’t be the girl who makes him realize life is worth living and stuff and that killing is bad.” “Why do people always know what I am going to say? Am I really that predictable?” I ask him, almost upset that Jake, who barely knows me is guessing my exact next words. “Yes and trust me you can’t be that person but if you really need to talk to someone you can talk to Mary.” “Mary as in Nathan’s grandmother?”