Thunder And The House Of Magic 2 Novels & Stories

A burning flame of tornado was coming towards me. Chloe remove the invisible shield .She lifted both her hands in the air ,a blast of water came out of my hand like a power house pipe. The burning tornado started pulling the neighbouring tree towards itself. With each thing it pulled inside its size increased. My water magic collided with the fire and wind ,together it was changing into stone ,it was like molten lava was freezing ,it turned into statue and the pressure of the water broke the tornado into stone pieces .

“I can tear this entire building into pieces, crushing each person within beneath it’s stones as I do so, without so much as breaking my stride as I depart. Don’t make me angry.” I smelled magic again. “Rivyn,” I murmured. “Yes, I feel it,” he agreed. “Terrameotius,” I heard the magic in the word, heavy and resounding, and smelt his magic as spice and blood in the air. The ground heaved, sending dust falling from the rafters and making the joints of the great building groan. “Dispartho,” he said, and the hallway returned to its normal length, the turret stairs visible.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. Till There Was You (The Thorntons Book 6) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2017 by Iris Morland Cover design by Resplendent Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief

Lilly Thunder cracked overhead like the sky had finally torn open. Rain hadn’t touched the soil yet, but the air was charged, thick with warning. I stood on the back porch, watching clouds churn above the treeline, violet and bruised. The storm wasn’t natural. Not even close. Behind me, the manor creaked in the wind, every board and stone humming with magic we’d laced into its bones for protection. Ember had fortified the wards with her own blood last night. Still, I could feel something scratching at the edges.

I didn’t wait for orders. Lightning exploded from my fingertips, crackling across the soaked ground like a living serpent. The blast hit the first wave of orcs head-on, blowing them apart in a concussive burst. Thunder roared in the heavens as my magic raged, my cloak flaring from the wind pressure of my spell.

“One way or another.” The thunder cracked then, splitting the sky apart. The storm howled through the tower, rattling the glass, blowing the candles out completely. Darkness swallowed us whole. And somewhere in that darkness, I swore I heard something stir. A pulse in the earth below. A whisper of Maldric’s magic clawing back through the seal. The storm wasn’t just weather anymore—it was summoning. Lucian moved first, magic flaring at his fingertips. Kai’s runes lit the walls with silver fire. Rhett reached for me, pulling me close as Silas turned toward the window, his eyes wide with understanding.

But it feels to be more than that. “Thornhall was built with sorcery. Magic is etched into every brick, every corner, every step,” Magnus’s voice sounds heavy. “The kind that can alter space.” “I thought it was the solar and your office you spent all your time in,” I mumble, my hands coming up to wrap around myself. It is deadly quiet here. “No sound escapes,” Magnus explains.

But instead of old stories from my grandmother’s life, the pages were scrawled with strange symbols and sketches—shorthand in her handwriting explaining the purpose of different runes and sigils. Flipping through the pages, there were sketches of wolves, and the last page that she’d written in had a detailed rendition of a nightmarish wolf-beast that made my blood run cold at the sight of it, it’s eyes smudged over with charcoal in the shape of a protective rune. My heart raced when I realized what I was holding. This was no ordinary journal, it was a spell book.

She could bend it to her will. Closing her eyes, she focused. The air around her shimmered, the mist shifting in response to her command. She felt the guardians' magic—the corrupted energy that bound them to the library’s defenses. If she could sever that connection… The moment she thought it, her magic flared to life. A brilliant blue wave erupted from her hands, spreading outward like ripples on water. It washed over the guardians, their snarls turning to agonized screeches as their bodies seized. The glow in their eyes flickered and then dimmed as their forms convulsed. One by one, they collapsed into the mist, their bodies disintegrating into the very magic that had created them.

A truth I wasn’t ready to face whispered at the edges of my mind. The chamber split with another violent tremor, and one of the stone shelves collapsed, spilling scrolls into fire. Thorne stepped back, arms raised, as if welcoming the chaos he had unleashed. The glyph spun faster, symbols unraveling from order into storm. The magic wasn’t satisfied with simply binding—it was reaching outward, searching for something more.