Thrall Diner Novels & Stories

Although it is now summer, it is still quite cool in the mornings, so I place my fur cloak around my shoulders. Stepping outside my chambers, the dark-skinned thrall greets me with a tray of food and warmed mead. The lighter skinned thrall stands behind her with a tray for Ola. I look towards her chambers, but the second girl shakes her head. It appears that once again, Ola has spent the night by her fire. Entering the sanctuary, I find her curled up by the dying coals. I tell the two thralls to leave the food and mead and then tend to our chambers. Sitting down near Ola’s head, I reach out and gently stroke the scarred skin where hair once grew.

The flickering neon sign outside the grease-stained window buzzed with a low, irritating hum. Kasen Thorne sat in the corner booth of a gritty, twenty-four-hour diner in the slums of Eden City. A single cup of black coffee sat untouched before him, cold, dark, and bitter. He was drenched, his wet hair plastered to his forehead, and his cheap suit ruined by the wet asphalt where the Grand Plaza guards had tossed him like garbage. The blue and pink light from the neon sign painted his bruised face, but the cold fire in his dark eyes remained untouched. Every shallow breath pulled at the freshly torn sutures in his side, but he ignored the slow, warm trickle of blood staining his shirt.

Side by side, we completely steal the street spotlight, looking like two young stars casually strutting through a movie set lit by neon signs and flickering streetlights. A couple hundred feet down the mud road, Hailee lights up and points his finger toward a warm glow. "That is it! My family diner, right there across the alley." My eyes follow his arm to a cheerful, glowing wooden sign that proudly reads Bello’s Comfort Meat Eats in bold block letters. Squeezed tight between two neighboring weapons shops, the little diner gives off an inviting, cozy warmth. The delicious smell of roasting deer meat wafts right into the dirt street, and through the clean glass windows, I spot a bustling crow

The neon sign of The Rusty Anchor buzzed with a low, rhythmic hum that vibrated right through Thalia’s teeth. It was past midnight, and the diner smelled of burnt grease, bleached counters, and the sour tang of spilled beer. Thalia sat in a corner booth, her back against the wall, watching the door. Her wolf was still tightly coiled under her skin, agitated by the constant rumble of the city’s elevated train passing just a block away.

Apart from the large metal door that stood opposite me, there was only one other opening in the room—a window close to the ceiling through which a sliver of moonlight filtered in. “The men got to us, didn’t they?” James muttered. “No shit, Sherlock.” He groaned in response. “You have no idea the kind of trouble we’re in right now.” I looked at him. “You know those thugs?” “I know of them. The big guy—the one with the eye patch—goes by the street name Thunder. He and his companions belong to a popular group of thugs that run shady businesses in this part of town. They also work for higher-ranked werewolves, doing little jobs for them.”

Chapter 52: The Ruff And Rugged Type Interior, Earl's Diner, Temperance, South Dakota... Another long shift and a day of waiting tables had been before Layla Quinn as she entered Earl's Diner and set to work getting ready for the upcoming lunch crowd. She had not stopped thinking about Brick Kenneally nor his larger powerful arms when he held her close to him before departing for his newest assignment for Sheriff Tillman. Pheobe seemed to notice her lack of enthusiasm for the moment and shook her head. She'd been feeling a bit of the same when it came to missing her biker beau as well. Layla set to work clearing dishes and taking orders as her day began. She had expected the handsome biker t

Maverick It was dinner time and tonight we decided to switch it up and go to Silver Dollar for dinner instead of Windy’s. The five of us went inside and greeted everyone as usual. We had been here a few times before, so we knew the people that frequented here. Right when I walked in, I could smell pack wolves. I didn’t freak out or let on that I knew they were here. I acted as I always did.

These hunters will turn the world upside down if only to find her and get the coveted prize. "Yaya, I'm going to the gym. Don't cook dinner for me. I'm just going to grab something to eat at the nearby resto when I conclude my workout." “Sure Ma’am. I understand.” Stressed from a long day's work, she chose to unwind and let go of some steam. This is her habitual way of getting rid of the toxins in her body. In her reckoning, the sweat that flows out of her pores drives away the microorganisms that have clung to her. Aside from her exercise routine in the gym, she believes that tonight is special. It is forecast that a full moon will be rising from the East. It is time to go hunting and quenc

"Would you have preferred the front lawn where every nosy pack member could see?" The sounds of confrontation reached us before we rounded the corner—snarls and threats carried on the night air. The scene that greeted us was chaos barely contained: pack guards with hands on weapons, Cosmos looking ready to tear someone's throat out, and a lean man I assumed was the thrall, standing beside a covered cage with an insufferably smug expression. "Any of you come closer," the thrall was saying, "and I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever do. Step. Fucking. Back."

Thunk! A sharp, bruising impact slammed into my shoulder, jarring me from my thoughts. My head snapped up to see a blonde-haired maid, her lips curled into a contemptuous smirk. She offered no apology, simply swept past, her disdain a palpable wave. Nothing changes in this place, I mused, a familiar resignation settling over me. Shoving aside the sting of the insult, I pressed on until I reached the colossal oak doors of the dining hall, flanked by two impassive knights, their armor gleaming under the light. "Announcing Crown Princess Thalia!" a thundering voice boomed from within, the sound vibrating through the thick wall. With a synchronized movement, the knights heaved the doors inward.