Thorin X Novels & Stories

That presence which is like a force he unknowingly carries around with him is on full display and it attracts them. Everyone - male or female- is attracted to Ash Thunder. He's a god in a room full of mortal men, a donut on a table of Brussels sprouts, he's as mesmerizing as a brightly lit and twinkling Christmas tree in a pitch-black room. It's so obvious that everyone's lust pit is reacting to him.

Even from my seat I could feel the faint warmth rolling off it. “It’s firestone,” Thorin said, suddenly shy for the first time all day. “From our mountain. It stays warm, always. And it glows a little, when it gets dark.” He paused, then finished quietly, “So you won’t ever be afraid of the dark.” My heart performed a maneuver I chose not to examine. Across the table, Ciera was carefully studying her plate with the smile of a mother who had absolutely helped pick the stone but would deny it under oath.

his throat went dry when he heard another shrieked cry of hers. Her cries make him tenser. his glossy eyes roamed around the hallway area. his parents were sitting on the waiting chair, his father was holding the hand of his mother it seemed as if he was consoling his wife. and her sister was standing outside of the door, peeking inside the operation theater. They were trying hard to keep a stable and strong face to provide him moral support but he knew they were tense too like him.

I state. "Good. Because you have to break up with that human guy and focus on Reece." Lexi says as she chews on the potato chips in her plate. "His name is Charles and I'm not going to break up with him.." I declare and Tony basically chokes on his food. "What?!?" Lexi exclaims. "I love him and this whole mate things doesn't change anything. Can't Reece just find another mate or something?" I say seriously. "That's not how it works Gan, He can't just find another mate. You two are fated to each other. There will be no one else perfect for you as him. Same as there isn't anyone else perfect for him as you.." Lexi explains.

Throes of Love. Alfonso groaned as he rolled out of bed. He hated this. He hated this house. This bed and everything. He hated having to wake up every morning without Chanel at his side. He had a meeting with his father and Draven about the man that got into their house, but they said it would be after dinner. They had previous meetings for the past three months but he never attended them.

And at the end of the line, sitting in a chair made of white bone, was a man who looked exactly like Xander, but sixty years older. Arthur Thorne. He didn't look like a man who had died in an explosion. He looked like a king who had finally called his heirs home. "Welcome back, Xander," Arthur Thorne said, his voice a perfect, terrifying mirror of his son’s. "And welcome, Seraphina. I hope you brought the child. The Thirteenth Seat is hungry, and it requires a name that has never been tarnished by a contract." Xander stepped forward, his body shielding me and the baby. "You're supposed to be dead. The shipyard... the hospital..."

and we are being honest about that part. Sir Thorin Meelany is a gentleman to the core, and even though he's a warrior, he's still handsome. Being as tall as my dad, with a body sculpted and full of muscles, tan skin, wavy short dark-brown hair, lilac eyes, and a deep voice that complements his persona like a cherry on top of a cake. And he's smart and skilled. Back in the north, there are a lot of girls and boys who have a crush on him, but he's the stern and oblivious type. He doesn't seem to care about that. But knowing him as we do, we know that he's affectionate under the surface.

CHAPTER NINE -ANTONIO- Thorin nodded, his stern expression softening. He rushed over to Kinnsion and Eris, and for a brief moment the two broke off their make out session. "Prince Kinnsion, Eris," Thorin said urgently, "we need your help with something." Kinnsion frowned, meeting Thorin's gaze before glancing at me and Lady Basia. "What's wrong? Can't you see I am busy with my mate?" he asked, his eyes flickering with annoyance.

“Should I fetch the physician? Or… or perhaps His Grace? Or Lord Thomas?” *Lord Thomas.* Vivian’s borrowed memories supplied the image: her younger brother. Ambitious, cunning, and utterly devoted to the family’s power. He saw her engagement to the Prince as the ultimate stepping stone. He was also one of the main architects of her schemes in the novel, whispering poison in her ear, manipulating her jealousy. *Dangerous.* “No! No physicians… not yet,” Vivian said quickly, perhaps too quickly. She softened her tone. “Please, Elara. Just… tell me things. Small things. It might help the fog clear. Start with… today. What is happening in the castle?” Information was survival.