The Language Of Thorns Novels & Stories

Yseah spoke with firm but a hollow meaning behind it. Greetings! This is my first ever werewolf story. I really was looking forward writing this. And if there are wrong typos and grammars, that I deeply apologize. I am sorry in advance. By the way, if you're enjoying the story, please vote gems for Mated to the Thorns. Thank you!! -Note: From Author, MysticGrace

He has every right to be angry then I see him looking at my bump. He comes towards me slowly as if tiger is taunting it's hunt that there is no escape from him. He holds my gaze as he traps me between door and his magnificent form. The form which I missed alot at nights. The warmth that form used to gave me at cold night that I missed. "Sometimes instead of beautiful rose, you become a thorn at my side. But I rather feel the pain of it because it is another side of your love too." Rudra says as she looks at me with mixed emotion. Anger, hurt, guilt and most of all love.

I lifted one end of the bed and slide out the red journal. I switched off the lights, draw the curtains and laid on the bed. I opened the book’s middle and start reading. The yellow lamps on each table shelf being my light source. ‘”Please, I don’t want to do this. My mom has warned me against guys like you.” She pants as she wriggles her hands, trying to loosen the rope. “Really? What are the things she warned you against us about?” Jayden flips her folds with his right thumb, his other hand caressing her plum breast.

Elara’s phone buzzed, the name Mr. Thornfield flashing on the screen. Her jaw tightened as she picked up the call. “You have two minutes to talk to me,” she said curtly, her tone void of emotion. Damien Thornfield’s voice was sharp, almost cutting through her composure. “Two minutes? Elara, are you out of your mind? Do you think you can dictate how I speak to you? What if you were in Tessa’s place? Would you still be this cold?”

We pored over crumbling pages filled with cryptic symbols and forgotten languages, our hope a fragile flame flickering in the encroaching darkness. Elijah, his scholarly fervor now tinged with a desperate urgency, tirelessly translated passages, his fingers tracing faded inscriptions under the dim lamplight. He spoke of ancient rituals, of forgotten lore, of desperate measures taken by Thorne lineage members in the face of similar threats. Many of the accounts ended in tragedy, serving as grim reminders of the power and ruthlessness of the malevolent entity.

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but by their body language, it wasn’t a friendly conversation. Suddenly, I saw the wolf jump in front of the human protecting her from Thorn as they continued to growl and roar loudly. I could see the human was talking angrily at Thorn then marched up to the glowing tether and take hold. Sparks and lightning bolts were flashing everywhere then a tremendous crack of thunder and flash of light and all went quiet. Not a sound was heard.

It was like nothing I had ever seen before, just like the house. “This is beautiful,” I gasped. “It’s not often the Thorns open up their gardens but tonight they did.” “I am glad they did, but I am also glad you showed them to me.” “You haven’t seen anything yet.” he smirked, “care to join me on a walk through them?” Nerves filled my entire body. He must have been able to tell I was unsure, “how about you walk with me for a little while around these beautiful gardens, and if after our walk you still want to leave, I will personally ensure you get home safe.”

Then I saw my wolf flicker under my skin, like a kind of magic stirring, as if it was about to explode. A roar was heard among the trees, and Horn's pack was getting ready for the next attack. “Now they’re regrouping.,’ Fabian growled. I resigned to the pain and grasped my dagger, moving with him and returning to combat. The forest came alive. Teeth clashed. Steel rang. The air emitted a scent of blood and smoke.' A monster of rage and madness, Thorn, appeared.' His roar shook the night. Farewell, with a low and deadly voice. "This is the end of this, Thorn." Fabian stated.

For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me. But he stepped back, his jaw tight. “Don’t thank me. Just promise me you won’t let Kael or Riven tear you apart over this.” As he turned to leave, I heard it. “I’m waiting.” I froze. “Thorne, did you hear that?” He turned, brow furrowed. “Hear what?” “The voice,” I said, my pulse racing. “It’s like… something inside me is speaking.” Thorne’s expression darkened. “Then we’re running out of time.”

And I still felt unprepared. The carriage rumbled up the mountain pass like it was trying to shake me loose. I pulled the velvet curtain back and stared out at the jagged, frostbitten peaks of the Oathbound Range. The sun had already dipped behind the highest ridge, casting long shadows across the snow-dusted road. Castle Thorne loomed ahead—tall, skeletal, and utterly uninviting. Like something drawn from the nightmares of children who’d grown up on war stories and ghost songs. But I wasn’t a child.