Thorne Lunar Chronicles Novels & Stories

And before this night was over, Alaric intended to learn exactly why the man had tried to kidnap Rhea. The heavy steel door swung open with a muted hiss as Matt entered the access code. The corridor beyond was brightly lit and unnervingly clean. White walls stretched in both directions beneath recessed lighting, polished floors reflecting every step. Surveillance cameras blinked quietly from each corner. There were no damp walls or rusted chains, nothing like the dark warehouses people imagined in situations like this. Everything here was deliberately professional. Two security officers stationed outside a reinforced door straightened as Alaric approached. “Mr. Thorne.”

"The frost-fever must have taken his strength after the weekend. If your guards find his nest, tell the boy to keep to his furs until the next moon cycle." "My pack will track him," Thorne growled, turning on his heel and exiting back into the mountain air. "To the Sky Keep," Thorne ordered Rorik, his claws sliding out against the leather seating as the carriage lurched forward. The transport vault took half an hour to breach, and Thorne snarled at the slow-moving low-tier wagons blocking the pass before he rushed into the Moonlift Chamber. "Leo!" Thorne roared as the heavy iron grates of his penthouse expanded.

I jumped, spinning around so fast I almost knocked the stack of letters off the desk as I fell against it. The man who had guided me to Lucien’s room stood to the side, as if he had started to walk around the desk, but the door was still closed. “You…” I started. “My name is Thorne, Luna.” He said, tilting his head as he glanced down at the drawer I had just been about to open. His gray hair was combed back, and the deep lines at the corner of his eyes became more prominent as he narrowed his eyes at me. He wore simple dark clothes, no rank markings, but everything about him screamed old warrior. The kind who’d seen more battles than most.

I try to tamp it down, to keep it hidden from the two werewolves across from me. The Luna doesn’t notice my internal struggle because she keeps talking, “Thorne is incredibly independent and busy these days, and he’s been neglecting his duty to find a mate.” What in the world is she talking about? “So, to help him out, I have arranged an engagement for Thorne with the daughter of an Alpha in a nearby pack,” the Luna states, smiling like she’s bestowing a gift. “Their wedding date is already set. What I need is someone who can plan the wedding in a quick and efficient manner.”

He was the Alpha, but tonight, he was merely a spectator to her glory. From the shadows of the northern monolith, Elder Thorne stepped forward. He was the oldest living wolf in Moonrise, his hair stark white, his face mapped with the deep ravines of a century of hard living. He walked with a heavy wooden staff, the sound of it striking the stone echoing like a heartbeat. Thorne stopped a few paces from Aria. He did not look at Xander. He looked only at the woman standing in the silver light.

For the first time in years, she was afraid—not of the pack’s whispers, not of Darius’s silence, but of the storm Celina had promised. And deep down, she knew the storm was already here. The halls of the pack house were quieter at dawn, the kind of silence that seemed to press on Thorne’s ears as he walked the stone corridor. His mind was already heavy, his chest tight, his wolf restless beneath his skin. Sleep had refused him again. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rory. Her smile. The softness of her hand when it brushed his. The way her laugh used to

He didn't touch me--he couldn't. The sheer pressure of the energy vibrating off my skin acted like a physical shield, a barrier of pure lunar pressure that shoved his fingers back with a visible spark of violet electricity. "Thorne isn't just coming for a wife. He’s coming for the 'Sovereign' he thinks he can chain. Look at the horizon. I can smell the rot of fifty wolves on the wind. They aren't coming to talk. They are coming to cage you." I stared at my hands, and the scream stuck in my throat. The skin was growing clear, like fine ceramics in front of a fire. The veins underneath were no longer blue, but followed a rhythmic, liquid violet light that beat in time with my heart which was r

The Lunar Key was whole now, but its activation had sent a signal—a beacon that would draw far more dangerous things than Julian Thorne to their doorstep. The ninety-day clock was gone, but the war for the Moon had only just begun.

"That's Professor Thorne's name." "I know. But it can't be the same person. That was fifty years ago." "Some wolves live a very long time, Luna. Especially powerful ones. Professor Thorne is over two hundred years old." My stomach drops. "So he could be the same Marcus Thorne who betrayed my grandmother?" "It's possible." "And he's been teaching here this whole time? Knowing what he did?" Ryder sets down the journal. "I don't know. But I think we need to find out."

I am very excited to see my daughter. Thorne The Lycan ambassador