Taylor Thorne Novels & Stories

“Oh, crap. Oh, crap, crap, crap.” “What is it?!” I feel alarmed at the look on her face. “She mentioned the sigil,” Kathleen babbles, running her hands through her hair. “She kept talking about it, and I just—I should have paid more attention. Of course, she would try and see him.” “See who?!” Quill growls, grabbing Kathleen by the shoulders and giving her a quick shake. “Who are you talking about?! Who has Taylor gone to see?!” “That man, the author!” Kathleen reveals, troubled. “The author of the book on the Blood Moon Hybrid.”

"I’m Liora Thorne now. And I’m just getting started." END OF CHAPTER 9…

Leila checked the time on her wristwatch for the sixth time that morning. She moaned as she slumped against the car seat; it was nearly nine o'clock, the first period would have ended, and she would have already missed her Chemical techniques test. She used to be a straight-A student in junior year, but her grades began to slip as she entered senior year. Ms. Annabeth, the chemical techniques tutor, was the only teacher who seemed genuinely concerned about this and took the time to talk to her. She'd promised her that she'd work on herself and try harder to read, but now she'd not even been on time to take her test!

“Please, please don’t! I didn’t even want to do it, she found me when I was broke, I just needed the money—please, I’m sorry!” Naomi rushed forward. “Don’t shoot her! Thorne, don’t!” she cried, grabbing his arm. “She’s scared, she doesn’t know anything!” The name hit me like bricks dropping from the sky. Thorne. That’s who he was. The infamous one. My heart stuttered, then nearly stopped altogether. I’d heard the rumors. I knew the stories. And if he was here… I was already dead. Thorne’s jaw tightened as he glared down at me, disgust flickering in his eyes. “You people make me sick,” he muttered. “So soft, so desperate. You sell your soul for scraps and then cry when the devil comes to coll

“Honest conversation? Tyler, after everything that happened in the past, you think you can just waltz back into my daughter’s life and have a ‘heart-to-heart’? What gives you that right?” Tyler sighed, understanding the gravity of the situation. “Mrs. Anderson, I know I messed up in the past. I hurt Madison, and I take full blame for that. But people can change, and I want to make amends. I love your daughter, and I want to be there for her.”

King Darius: ~~~ “Something is amiss with her,” my lycan, Thorne, says as we look at Alpha Caroline crying. “I don't think she's acting,” he adds, and I put my hand inside my pocket, fisting tightly as I waited for the elevator doors to close. However, before it closes, I see her open her mouth, as if what she's about to say is important, but the damn door slid closed before I could get a word.

Killian hissed, his claws digging into Thorne’s chest. Thorne laughed—a dry, hacking sound. "Because if you kill me, you'll never find the Altar of the First Moon. And if you don't find it, your mate isn't going to be your mate for much longer. She's going to be a shell, Killian. A pretty little doll for the First Mother to play with." I stepped into the light of the candle, my heart racing. "What do you know about the awakening, Thorne?" Thorne’s eyes shifted to mine. For a moment, the old Thorne—the arrogant, beautiful boy I had once loved—flickered in his gaze. But it was quickly replaced by a look of profound pity.

Her fingers bumped something metallic, half-buried beneath a collapsed plank of wood. She tugged gently, uncovering a small, rusty tin. Her heartbeat spiked excitedly. Inside, wrapped in what looked like satin, was a flash drive… and a folded note bearing yet another cryptic message: Truth has teeth. Bite before it bites you. —M. She clutched it tightly, her hands shaking as she stood and hurried quietly back through the tunnels to her room. ************************************************** When Sergio found her in the study half an hour later, she didn’t even glance up. The screen in front of her glowed faintly in the dark room.

“A little girl like you, drawing the attention of a vulnerable wolf, he could have lashed out without thinking. You must have nerves of steel.” I swallow hard. “I trust my instincts.” “Thank you.” Thorne reaches out to touch a lock of my hair, giving it a little pull. “No one’s ever helped with that before besides Raven. My senses…sometimes, the world is too loud for my wolf.” “Maybe you should go home and rest,” I tell him. “I need studio time,” he says. “Thorne is a sculptor,” Raven tells me. “Art runs in the family. I paint.”