Novelas y relatos de Thorns

Stepping forward, he lunged for the kill and swung his sword down. Weapons clashed, and sparks flew. Thorn's expression changed as he stumbled back a step. His arm was numb. "The sword technique of a human is indeed exquisite. But such an unruly technique can only be used on low-level dark beasts. It won't be able to do anything to me." Thorn put his hands together, and a dark battle spear formed. The spear kept flashing with light like a venomous snake flicking its tongue. He moved quickly and lunged at Chase for the kill.

I hold him, stroking his hair all the way down. But then I feel something on his back. Something small and hard an sharp. I hug him tighter, searching for the strange are on his back where I touched the thing. At first I was willing to bet that I was just imagining things. But then I see something small and black and pointy poking right out of Roman's skin. A thorn. A thorn that looks similar to the ones from the vine, the very thing that wounded him.

(Amara’s POV) The safehouse didn’t look like what I expected. It wasn’t some fortress of cold marble and cameras. It was a quiet, two-story home tucked behind heavy iron gates, wrapped in ivy and early-spring roses. There was a porch swing. A vegetable garden. Curtains that looked like they were picked by someone who cared about color and light. Homey. A word I barely understood — a word that clutched at something deep inside my chest and wouldn’t let go.

“Why aren’t you healing? Why, Thorne? Why?” Thorne’s eyes fluttered weakly, his lips pale. “I… don’t…know…” His voice was barely a whisper as he tried to keep his eyes open. “He can’t heal right now.” Darien said, along with a wicked laugh. My head snapped up, my chest heaving. Darien rose to his full height, swirling the blood-stained sword casually in his hand. “This sword was made just for him. Forged with poison. The same poison you once gave me, but stronger. This one is lethal. It’ll eat him alive from the inside. And in twenty-four hours…” He leaned closer, smirking darkly. “He’ll be dead.”

"You're hungry for the feeling of power. You want the world to fear the wolf again because you don't know how to be a man." Thorne drew a short-sword from beneath his cloak. It was Ardhan steel—dark, heavy, and etched with the sigil of the pack. "Then show me, Elma. Show me the strength that broke two brothers. Show me why we should listen to a farmer." I didn't reach for the knife. Instead, I reached into the bucket of scrap metal by the gate—the one where I’d tossed the rusted spear-tip weeks ago. My fingers closed around a heavy, iron rod—an old axle-pin from a broken cart.

The bodyguards helping Luke sensed that the tide had turned and they immediately let go of Holly. The moment she was free, Yoel wrapped her up in his arms. It felt like he was a fortress of safety. Holly leaned into the solid comfort of his chest, feeling protected. Yoel's heart was pounding like a drum in a thunderstorm. His grip tightened around Holly. Holly caught on to his terror and instinctively wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug. Luke watched them with a surge of jealousy that turned his eyes a fiery red. He scowled and moved to tear Yoel away from her.

Marcus clapped his hands, and his men dragged in an elderly man wearing traditional Southern Border clothing. The moment the old man saw Ayara, he pointed straight at her. "I remember this woman! She came to my shop that day and said she wanted to buy a non-toxic wolfsbane thorn. I sold her a jade-green one. Since it's non-toxic, even if someone gets pricked, nothing happens—makes it easy to carry around. Kids at the border use these wolfsbane thorns all the time to play pranks and scare tourists."

“Did he... did the ceremony go through I ran? Is it him? Is he marking me over the woods?” “No, no,” Jax answered, and his face burnt in the flickering fire-light, his voice shook in a manner that seemed to me more than the suffering. "Thorne is a Blackthorn. They have a jagged thorny crown and it is the sign of power and blood. This... this is something else. It appears to be the leftover of the Old Gods, the sign of the First Packs. I have never even heard of this in the forbidden scrolls. It shouldn't exist, Jessica. This has not been witnessed on this earth in centuries.”

two fugitives bound by a ring and a dead man’s blessing. As we scrambled through the backyard, the cream lace—my wedding dress—snagged on a jagged thicket of thorns. I didn't stop. I pulled with everything I had, the sound of the fabric ripping echoing like a scream in the quiet of the old man's backyard. A long, jagged strip stayed behind, dancing on the thorns like a ghost. I didn't know why, but the sound felt like an omen. The 'legal shield' hadn't even lasted an hour before it was torn to shreds." As we hit the main road, the briefcase felt like a lead weight between us. We weren't just running for our lives anymore. We wer

The pandemonium in the room was crazy, so I did something. I picked up the scalpel she dropped, and stabbed him in the chest. Right where the venom was. I dipped and tore the skin open and man, the skin was so tough most probably due to the venom. I was going for the original method, bleed him out. The venom began to flow out together with blood. I took my still bleeding hand and placed it over the torn bleeding skin and let my blood drip into it. The venom sizzled, like my blood was burning it.