Ty Blackthorn Novels & Stories

he said lightly. Lie. I knew it. But I didn’t push. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he added, his gaze scanning me like he was trying to figure something out. I lifted my chin. “I could say the same.” His eyes sharpened. “Blackthorn isn’t exactly…” He paused. “…easy to get into.” There it was. The subtle dig. I smiled sweetly. “Good thing I didn’t come here the easy way.” Recognition flickered in his eyes. “Scholarship,” he said.

she exclaimed. “If I'll never guess then there is no point in me guessing is there?” I sighed and placed my laptop bag down at the side. “I had a visit from mother earlier and she wanted to know if we were interested in going to the Thorns charity event next Saturday!” The Thorns are well known for their status and money. 20 years ago, Richard and Lesley Thorn invested in setting up a local apple orchard and cidery and opened Thorn cider. Before long they had expanded across the country. Their brand quickly hit shelves across all supermarkets and stores in the UK. Although their wealth has grown, the family stayed local and chose to run the local site as opposed to moving away. Their childre

He bellowed in anger. In my entire life, I had never seen Wilder this angry and filled with a murderous intent. Whoever this person was had just pushed their limit, and Wilder would hunt him down to the ends of the earth, even if it meant losing his life. Lily came out of the bathroom with a sober expression on her face, and when she asked me the question about her birthday parents, I felt my blood run cold. * “Blackthorn is dead.” I said as soon as I entered the house. “We need to pack up and leave. People are getting unsettled…"

Her heart beat violently in his ribs, like the wings of a bird in a knot. "Enough, Lyric." The voice that broke the tension was silent, deep and charged, of a guy who didn’t need volume to be heard. The crowd instinctively withdrew and cleared the room for a man who moved like a predator he had never hunted before. Alpha Kale Blackthorn was tall and stable, built all the power and control, but shares his eyes that moved people. Silver gray like the moon on steel, clear, illegible, full of old and unknown things.

His pack had land bordering Vale territory, and ambition dripping off him like oil. Next was Alpha Tomas, younger, sharp-eyed, already measuring me like an acquisition. And finally… Alpha Rhys Blackthorn. Ah. There it is. Rhys smiled like a man who thought he’d already won. Dark suit, darker intent, confidence bordering on arrogance. His witnesses stood stiffly behind him, already smug. Rowan took his place at my side. Kieran leaned against a pillar across the room, arms crossed, watching everything. Damon and Silas flanked the exits like threats with pulses.

His eyes lock onto Grayson with profound disappointment before turning their icy weight toward me. Before I can take another step forward, a smooth, mocking voice echoes from the main archway of the hall. "Brilliantly executed!" The entire room falls into a dead, terrified hush. Every head snaps toward the tall double doors. Camden Whitaker strolls into the Blackthorn Grand Hall with effortless, predatory grace. He wears a sharp silver suit that outlines his broad, deadly frame, his dark eyes sparkling with wicked amusement. As the right hand of the Nightcrest Pack, his presence alone carries enough weight to crush half the room.

"Someone used these on her." Lysandra stepped into the room properly now, her earlier fear replaced by sharp interest. "Wait. Blackthorn roots? Those do not grow anywhere near our territory." I looked up at her, surprised she knew that. "She is right." Killian stood, his face grim. "Blackthorn needs very specific conditions to thrive. Acidic soil, constant moisture, shade. We do not have those conditions here." My mind raced. "So, whoever used these on her brought them from somewhere else."

Maybe if I looked like I belonged, no one would notice. But Silverfang always noticed. A voice, low and commanding, cut through the hum of chatter. “Move.” I froze. The drink trembled in my hand. When I turned, my gaze slammed into storm-gray eyes that made my stomach flip. Kael Blackthorn. Second son of the Alpha of Pack Blackthorn. Future CEO of the Blackthorn Conglomerate. The Academy’s untouchable prince. And, unfortunately, the man whose pristine white shirt I had just baptized in crimson punch.

But this one… this younger guy… she hadn’t told me about at all. My gaze snagged on the dark ink curling up the man’s neck. It was a gothic rose. Snakes coiled through the petals, fangs bared. That tattoo… It's…. Familiar? I don't know, but I've seen it somewhere. My stomach twisted, but before I could even process why it felt so familiar, the sound of the front door swinging open snapped my head up. “Thorne?” He stepped inside, and my eyes widened. There was blood on his shirt, blood on his hands, a cold calm in his eyes that was worse than any panic. His jacket was half-open, and I could see the sluggish flow of crimson down his side.

Orion stated. The name sent a chilling shiver through the room. Hassan Blackthorn was a legend—ruthless, completely disciplined, and the commander of the most feared military force in the werewolf world. He dressed in tailored black suits, ruled his empire with cold logic, and had zero interest in love or political marriages. “Blackthorn?” Cedric scoffed, throwing his hands up in despair. “He’s a goddamn monster! He hates the Ravenscar pack, yes, but he would never agree to a sudden alliance with us. He doesn't take sides in Council disputes.”