Thorn Crown Novels & Stories

Dagen then softened, “Well, you should have done that earlier. I’m perfectly capable of patrolling while you’re getting your ass busy up north.” “Be careful with this. The golden knights in the city will only listen to its command,” Thorn half smiled, “except mine.” Dagen looked at it, satisfied, a golden badge exquisitely carved with a dragon claw and inlaid with a red fire gem. After bowing to Eros, Thorn left the council chamber to the dock without turning back.

I traced the hand holding the gun, and my sight met that of the pair of eyes that'll forever hunt me. They were bloodred eyes!

The world seemed to slow itself down as I watched the wolves descend upon Nicolette in a flurry of fangs and claws before fangs sank into my neck. *** Sebastian's POV Blood, blood spilled down my throat, dripping onto the letter in front of me. For a moment, it was as if I couldn't breathe; a sudden fear gripped my throat, making any sounds die within it. Something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. I'd just received the letter from my colleague about the use of the thorn crown. It was the sigil for a pack, long since died out, that had recently come into practice again by a doomsday cult.

A faint glow pulsed like its own heart beat a shape, curved mark that was glowing beneath the sleeve of my leathers, a mark only seen that I have only seen in books. The Lunar Bond. She looked up. Across the table, Aeryn Valecrow met her gaze again. In that moment she felt terrified and unafraid at the same moment. Nemphis did not like it but craved it all at once. She pushed forward even more.

she countered. “If you want to win the crown, you have to work hard like the other girls. There's no shortcut in becoming the Luna Queen,” Came his passive reply. “Is that why you have scars all over your body, your pack wants you to win badly that they don't care about hurting their own,”

He started the engine, and soon we hit the road. ___________ SILVERBANE PACK On the elevated platform of a throne hall where the throne of the Lycan King sat, at the head of the seat, was his name written boldly: Alpha Thorne. The throne was made of silver thorns, the one weapon capable of penetrating through a Lycan's skin. Alpha Thorne had mastered the pain through the years untill his body grew a resistance to it. It was a sign of intimidation to all who saw him.

She wore the midnight-black gown Silas had picked, the one that looked like it was woven from the night sky itself. ​There was a knock on the door. Her four brothers entered, dressed in matching black tuxedos with silver wolf-head cufflinks. They looked like a wall of midnight. ​"One last thing," Orion said. He held a velvet box. Inside was a delicate, floating crown made of "Moon-Steel", a metal that only the Thorne line could forge. It pulsed with a soft, protective light. ​As Ryker placed the crown on her head, he leaned in and whispered, "The Ashwood Pack is watching the live broadcast from their ruins, Elara. Show them exactly what they threw away."

It was the only place where I felt like he was still watching over me. I walked over to his heavy mahogany desk and clicked a small, hidden catch in the side of the locker. It slid open with a soft groan. I reached in and pulled out a small, velvet-lined jewelry box. Inside sat the Thorn. It was a strange, jagged piece shaped like a rose’s thorn but forged from something dark and ancient. My father had given it to me in that fever-dream afterlife, a promise that I wouldn't just survive, I would become the very thing that pierced my enemies' path.

"I swear," My heart shattered into a million pieces. Thorne picked up the crown. It was made of blackened iron and silver, shaped like a howling wolf. He placed it on Damon’s head. "Rise, Alpha Damon!" The room erupted. Damon stood up, his eyes glowing a brilliant, fierce blue. He looked out over his people, his presence expanding until it filled every corner of the room. "And now," Thorne said, silencing the crowd with a wave of his hand. "Before the celebration begins, we acknowledge the union. Lyra Fenn, step forward."

“Donovan? No. But he’s too afraid of Marcus to act independently, and Marcus is currently in custody. So for the next forty-eight hours, he’s effectively neutralized.” The appetizers had begun to circulate delicate arrangements of roasted vegetables, glazed meats, carefully plated presentations designed more for aesthetic impact than sustenance. Elara watched the servers move through the crowd and identified her target immediately: Lord Thorne, the councilman who’d been one of Marcus’s earliest converts, who possessed knowledge of the religious coup plan, who’d made the mistake of believing his loyalty to Marcus would be rewarded with power. He would not be rewarded. He would be eliminated.