Rebecca Thorne Books Novels & Stories

“What happens to the books at the other apartment?” “Thorne will make sure they go back to the library.” She looked up. “Library? They have those books at the library?” “No.” Noah stubbed out the cigarette and came back inside. He pulled out his phone and sat opposite her. “The Horde has a library.” “Of course, they do.” Serenity’s gaze shifted back to the book, and she started to read again, silence falling between her and the demon opposite. She wasn’t running anymore, and she smiled at the idea. There was still so much she had to learn if she wanted to stay safe and while she should have probably been an absolute mess mentally, with the ideas of demons and angels—something felt right.

Her eyes were on me. "Oh," I said. I smiled. Trying to be polite. "Imagine you walked into this house without even saying hello to the owner." Rebecca smiled too. But it didn't reach her eyes. "You just entered as if you own the place." "I'm sorry about that." I dropped my smile. "Bad habit." "Yes, you took that from your mother." I felt anger rise in my chest. Rebecca walked closer. Her smile was gone now. "Very soon, you will understand that you are just wasting your time with Kael." She paused. "And I hope you don't pick up your mother's stubbornness. Because the Thorne family will not watch Kael fall because of your family's curse."

Sleeping on the same bed became a habit for her, at first it bothered her to the extant of waking up with muscle cramps every single morning during the first couple weeks, she would become tense and rigid every time he joined her to bed. ... "So what book are you going to choose ?"Asked a curious Ethan as they both stood in front of the non ending shelves while Rebecca already sat on her own rocker. "This one." she put her finger on an old looking book "Old bloodline." he read the title. "I see you like historical books, well there you go now i have to find a book to read too." he spoke as she took a seat on the crimson red armchair just next to the fireplace. Maids brought tea and pastries

“Yeah, I guess,” “We talking about Mateball?” Kairos and Maximus snapped their heads up to look at the door to Kairos’s room. Lounging against the door frame was Thorne. His bleach blonde hair had been freshly washed and toned. It stood out against his deep olive skin. He wore thick black rimmed glasses over his honey-gold eyes. “Yeah,” Kairos said. “You going? You taking History of Wolves or The Last Great Queen this year?” “Har, har,” Thorne rolled his eyes. “I’m taking no one. Unlike you two, I’m trying to not piss off the Queen.”

★★★★ Rebecca gritted her teeth in anger as she followed him into his room. The first thing that caught her eye was a red thong carelessly discarded on the floor next to the bed. Her hand instinctively curled into a fist, fury boiling inside her, even though she was fully aware of his relationship with Veronica. He had married her just to torment her, making her feel utterly filthy. Withdrawing her gaze from the thong, Rebecca turned back toward the door and stood there, anger coursing through her.

"Get some rest, B. Well soon be back." As Liz left, Becca lay on the couch, took some Advil and got comfy with a box of ice cream and her favorite novel, the Percy Jackson series. Few minutes later, she put down the book and closed her eyes, sighing as sleep drew her in. It was so peaceful, a meaningless dream enclosed her. Somewhere in the dream, she heard a creak. Shaking it off, Her dream continued. Hurried footsteps jolted her from the stupid dream.

Everything screams Thorne, intense, brooding, commanding, and extra. I spy double doors at the end of the hall and as I push them open, I'm hit with the best smell ever, breakfast. And there he is. Thorne Wintermere. At the stove. Flipping bacon and eggs like it's just another day in his absurdly perfect life. Totally. Fucking. Shirtless.

The art was crude, dark, and felt heavy, as if the ink was mixed with something foul. "The odds have always been in my favor," I said, my voice hardening. "I am Marcus Thorne. I don't lose." Granny looked up at me, her milky eyes suddenly sharp, piercing through the darkness of the room. She pointed a gnarled finger at the center card a figure trapped in a circle of fire, but the fire wasn't burning the figure, it was becoming part of it. "Not this time, my child," she whispered, and the cold in the room doubled. "The script has been rewritten, but not by you. You think you are the hunter? You are just the wood for her fire."

She turned the handle and realized it was locked from within. "Rebecca!" Rebecca was sitting down on the bed and glanced at the door. She had her daughter on her lap and kept her on the bed. She stood up and returned the painting she was holding where she had taken it from. She walked towards the door and unlocked. "Can I come in?" Fiona asked curtly. "What do you want, Fiona?" Rebecca replied boldly. Fiona flashed a glance at Catherine and sneered at her. "I can't believe she has royal blood in her."

The gate code she'd used twice without mentioning. The rules had been on a card on her pillow the first night. She'd ignored four of the seven, not out of defiance but adaptation. Defiance required acknowledging someone's authority she hadn't agreed to. The breakfast times didn't suit her schedule. The thermostat hadn't anticipated how cold she ran. The library hours she'd embraced enthusiastically. On day twenty-two, she came back to the library at four in the afternoon and found a leather bookmark on the arm of her chair. Slim, with a small brass fitting. No note.