Secret Of Blackthorn Hall นิยาย & เรื่องราว

He winked again. “To say you were still half asleep when you got up earlier, you are very feisty right now, Mr. Thorn.” “Keep calling me Mr. Thorn and we will have to go back upstairs and do something about my mood.” “You are rather hot under the collar aren’t you.” “And it’s all your fault.” I hurried us into the car to ensure we were not late. The drive was quiet, and very familiar. As he pulled in, I realised we were at the country manor house where the ball was held. Memories came flooding back of that night and I couldn’t help but smile.

Liam whispered later. Emily seemed to smile alone and after that tried to close her eyes, she even forgot all her problems instantly because she heard an intimate whisper from Liam again for tonight. *** After finishing the meeting this morning, Liam decided to return to his room to pick up some files that he would hand over to his current secretary. As he was about to sit in his seat, Liam was seen staring at the secretary and smiling at him, "Sir, someone wants to see you right now." Liam glanced at his gold watch that was coiled cutely on his right wrist at this time, apparently it was already 10:30 AM for now, "Is he a black haired guy?"

Cole POV The rumors spread through Blackthorne Academy by morning. Hallaway, classroom, locker room, everywhere I went, I heard those words “Rejected Mate”, “Pathetic Alpha”, “Serena Vale’s unfortunate fate”. People stared openly when I walked past them. Some laughed and some whispered about last night. Others looked almost relieved that it wasn’t happening to them.

A breathtaking place like a king's palace, a gold gate, and a vast expanse of flowers and tall trees surrounding the inner side of the estate wall. Her feet moved with awe and fear, her steps slowing as she approached the mansion's main door as if it were a monster that would swallow her. She entered the mansion with her mother—a vast, frightening space and opulence that took one's breath away. A middle-aged man with neatly combed black hair interspersed with a few gray strands stood there. It was Chris Myers, the richest man in America. He buttoned his suit jacket and extended his hand to Lila with a friendly smile.

Diamond was still too restless for proper sleep anyway, her awareness extending beyond our room to explore the house we'd reclaimed. As my mates arranged themselves around me, Kane sitting vigilant at the foot of the bed, the others forming a protective barrier of warmth, I let my consciousness drift with Diamond's exploration. Through her senses, I could feel the currents of magic that ran through the house, ancient protections laid by generations of Blackthornes.

Cassian’s jaw clenched, but he dipped his head at last. “This isn’t over,” he muttered. No, it wasn’t. The great doors of Blackthorn Palace swung open. Inside, moonlight filtered through glass windows that stretched higher than any forest canopy, turning the marble floors into rivers of silver. The walls gleamed, lined with iron filigree, protective and cold. This place wasn’t built to welcome. It was built to withstand and tonight, it would cage me. They awaited us in the hall, cloaked in shadows and wisdom too sharp to be kindness. Elders of Blackthorn, old wolves with eyes like glass, their voices carrying the weight of tradition.

“Because men like them never go quietly. They don’t lose. They reload.” The next morning, Nova made a decision. They would go after Hayes. Not with files. Not with fire. But with proof. And for that, she needed to go somewhere she had avoided for years: The Blackthorne Estate. It stood like a fortress in the hills outside the city, all sharp corners and marble arrogance. Nova had been raised here. Taught to walk in heels, speak in code, and smile through betrayal. Now she walked up the driveway in combat boots and a black coat.

I could feel Rose tense beside me, her hand twitching as if ready to shift at a moment’s notice. The hall was vast, made of dark stone with high ceilings that echoed with every step. At the far end, seated on a throne-like chair, was Killian Blackthorn. He looked every bit the part of a predator—sharp, calculating eyes, dark hair falling in messy waves around his face, and an air of menace that was palpable.