Thorns, p.1
Thorns, page 1
Thorns: A Prison of Thorns Novel
Blood Prophecy Book Two
By L.H. Cosway
Copyright © 2022 L.H. Cosway.
All rights reserved.
Editing by Olivia Kalb.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by L.H. Cosway. Cover image elements from Shutterstock.com.
www.lhcoswayauthor.com
Contents
Playlist
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Meet the Author
Books by L.H. Cosway
Playlist
To listen to L.H. Cosway’s playlist for Thorns, GO HERE.
“I am dragged along by a strange new force. Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.”
― Ovid, Metamorphoses.
1.
Present
The waves crashed violently against the sides of the boat as we approached the island fortress. Seagulls cawed overhead, almost like they were screaming a warning, Go back. There’s nothing for you here. I stared up at the giant stone building covered in magical thorns and vines with no small amount of dread. It would be my home for the foreseeable future. No, not my home. My prison.
All I could do was hope and pray I got out alive.
2.
Ten days ago
It was a beautiful night.
If I wasn’t so distracted by the rope burning my hands, I might’ve taken a moment to look up and admire the stars.
It was Games Night at St. Bastian’s Institute for Magic and the Supernatural. The event was held each year, sort of like the sports days they had at human schools, and I was taking part in a violently competitive game of Tug o’ War: magical edition. The rules of the game were simple: the team to successfully pull the rope to their side won. However, the nature of it was vastly more complicated. The rope was no normal rope. It was bespelled to change and morph.
One moment it was blazing hot; the next icy cold. Similarly, the texture could change from rough to spiky to slippery smooth. All of which added an extra layer of difficulty. Currently, both teams were struggling to keep hold of the rope as it burned into our palms. My team consisted of my boyfriend, Peter, my friends, Nic and Ren, my cousin, Grace, and me. The opposing team included Belinda, the popular girl I recently learned resented me for various silly reasons, her best friends, Anna and Liz, and twin brother warlocks, Harry and Henry. They were identical, and I could barely tell them apart.
Peter’s best friend, Sophia, and my ex-blood donor, Angela, were on the sidelines cheering us on. Being the strongest of our group, Grace headed up the line, followed by Ren, Nic, and me, with Peter directly behind me, his solid frame anchoring us. I was constantly aware of his heat, his looming, heady presence as I tried to focus my energy on the rope. It was difficult when the object of all my affections was directly behind me, his scent making my mind wander to inappropriate places.
“Focus,” his low voice murmured in my ear, his front meeting my back. “You almost lost your grip there.”
“That’s because the rope is singeing my hands,” I gritted as a pleasant shiver trickled down my spine at his rumbly voice. My mind conjured images of him grabbing my hips and pulling my body into his.
“You’ll heal. I, on the other hand, will need to cast a spell.”
The heat of the rope turned to ice, and I gasped, “Oh my God.”
“My palms have gone numb,” Anna complained from the other team.
“How is this supposed to be fun?” Ren asked. “Aren’t Games Nights supposed to at least be enjoyable?”
“If you’re not cut out for this, you can always let go,” Belinda fired at him from where she headed up the opposing team.
“Never!” Grace shot back and gave an almighty tug. Belinda’s team wasn’t ready for it, and all five of them were propelled forward while my team fell back. Peter’s large body cushioned my fall as we landed on the grass, and my sister, who had been refereeing the match, blew a whistle.
“Looks like we have our winners,” Rebecca declared, and Grace shot her a triumphant grin while Belinda crossed her arms, gave a huff, then strode off in annoyance. Not a gracious loser, clearly. Anna and Liz hurried after her while Harry and Henry came to congratulate us on our win.
“Want to go check out some of the other games?” Peter asked, his mouth close to my ear again, his hand gently touching my hip, causing warmth to bloom in my cheeks.
I shook my head. “How about a walk instead?”
I motioned to the nearby forest, and there was a flash of heat in Peter’s eyes, his answer husky. “A walk sounds good.”
My gaze lowered to his throat, where his Adam’s Apple bobbed attractively. I slid my hand into his, and we wandered away from the crowd, passing a rowdy match of five-aside football. Quite like the game of Tug o’ War, it was no ordinary match. Instead, the students manoeuvred the ball using telekinesis.
The forest neared, and we passed through the trees. The tall, ancient foliage of the Yellowbranch Forest often felt like it encapsulated you in its wisdom and protection as soon as you entered it. There was a faint rustle of leaves, but other than that, it was soothingly quiet. The sounds of the Games Night faded into the distance as we walked in companionable silence.
“Did you visit your brothers yesterday?” I asked after a time. Peter had three younger siblings, Simon, Conor, and Arthur. He cared about them a lot, and I knew it was tough for him to live away from them now that he had his own apartment.
Peter nodded. “They’re well.”
“And your parents?”
“My mother seems to be doing okay. Dad was predictably absent while I was at the house. I think he’s decided to pretend I don’t exist.”
“Very mature of him.”
Peter shrugged. “I kind of prefer it. It’s better than having to actually deal with him.”
“Yes, well, I’m glad you didn’t have to see him yesterday,” I said, reaching up to stroke his jaw, and he seemed drawn to my touch, melting into it. “You’re always so tense after dealing with your father.”
“And you are amazing at making all my tension disappear,” he murmured as he backed me into a tree. My shoulders met the rough bark, the earthy scent of the forest in my nose blocked out as Peter’s smoke and amber filled my senses. My boyfriend was a warlock, and the scent and potency of his magic had a way of making me feel dizzy. Dizzy in an all-consuming, lovely way.
His hand clasped the side of my neck, and my blue eyes met his brown ones as his mouth descended on me. As soon as his lips touched mine, I shuddered, my body coming alive with a kind of desire only he could solicit. His tongue sought entrance, and I granted it hungrily, my hands sliding up his arms before coming to twine around his neck.
Peter’s hips pressed into mine, and as our kiss deepened, I felt him harden against me. My stomach tightened with need as his mouth left mine and trailed hot kisses down my neck. “Are you hungry?” he asked roughly against my skin, and I shuddered.
Somehow, Peter had become my unofficial blood donor in the last few months. Ever since Angela’s attack, it had been necessary for me to find a new donor. The whole thing with Peter had evolved organically, and though it wasn’t exactly against the rules to drink blood from your romantic partner, it was a bit of a grey area. Yes, my father fed from my mother, but they’d been together for a long time. With new relationships, giving blood could get complicated, but Peter had been so willing, and I was so lost in my feelings and attraction for him that I couldn’t say no.
My parents knew about our arrangement, and though I sensed they had their reservations, they hadn’t outright instructed me to stop feeding from Peter. I guess it might’ve been hypocritical, given their situation.
My fangs emerged, and I watched as a shudder went through him. There was a flicker in his jaw, his eyes going to my mouth. Being able to draw this kind of desire from him made me feel powerful. The connection between us was already so strong, and every time I fed from him, it strengthened further. Peter cast spells to defend against becoming addicted to my bite, but those spells didn’t do anything to weaken the intimacy of the act.
I pressed a kiss to his neck, then dragged my nose across his skin and inhaled.
“How you like to torture me,” he groaned.
“You torture me every day in class when I have to see you, but I can’t touch you,” I countered, and a smile touched his lips.
I kissed his neck again, then gently sunk my fangs into him. He practically hummed with need when I pierced his skin, my sharp fangs slicing through. Immediately, the potency of Peter’s blood intoxicated me. I could taste the magic melded with his feelings for me. It entered my body like a rush, and I was swept away on a high like no other.
It was a good thing I’d been trained since childhood to have willpower when it came to blood. I knew how to stop before I took too much. And even though Peter’s was the most wonderful blood I’d ever tasted, I always knew when enough was enough.
I released him, licked the excess from his wound, and before I knew it, our hands were everywhere. His inside my pants, mine up his shirt. Our mouths and bodies collided in a hungry, eager dance.
I was so lost in him that I almost didn’t notice the spidery sensation across the back of my neck. I tried to ignore it, but the sensation persisted, finally drawing me away from Peter. Frowning, I peered around the dense, dark forest. If I trusted what my eyes were seeing, we were alone, but another, more primitive sense told me otherwise.
“What is it?” Peter whispered. He’d grown still, too, clearly having sensed my wariness.
I didn’t answer, just continued to scan the forest. All was still, and then, I thought I saw the shadow of a person in the distance. It was too dark to make them out, but there was definitely someone there. Was it a peeping Tom, a classmate spying on us, or was it something more sinister? My mind immediately went to one person. Over the last few months, he was the one I thought of whenever something even remotely suspect occurred in my life.
Vasilios.
“Do you see that?” Peter asked quietly. He’d spotted the shadowy person in the distance, too.
“Yes,” I replied just as quietly.
The shadow didn’t move, and before I could think of what to do next, Peter stepped away from me, his hands moving in a circular motion as he magicked up a ball of energy. It grew from a tiny ember into a blazing, magical fireball.
“Show yourself,” he called to the shadow, wielding the fireball in the air like a threat.
The shadow remained, and Peter prepared to shoot his magic across the forest when I held up a hand to stop him. “Wait,” I said, then darted through the trees. By the time I reached the spot where the shadow had appeared to be standing, our mystery spy was gone.
“They’re gone,” I called out to Peter. He was already moving through the forest toward me. I inhaled sharply, smelling something acrid and out of place. Someone had definitely been standing in that spot, but they didn’t smell like a human, nor like any supernatural creature I was familiar with.
When Peter reached me, his eyebrows were drawn together as he studied the space. “Someone was here.”
“I know,” I replied. “I can still smell them.”
His eyes met mine. “What do they smell like?” As a warlock, Peter didn’t possess my enhanced sense of smell.
I inhaled again, trying to pick up on the last remnants of their scent. “Like rotten eggs and burning.” I expanded my senses farther, tapping into my heightened hearing to see if I could locate our spy. The only sounds I picked up were the animals and wildlife that inhabited the forest. There was no trace of whoever had been there. It was almost like they’d magically teleported, but they didn’t smell anything like a witch or a warlock.
Peter’s expression grew more serious. “We should get out of here.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, approaching him and taking his hand. “Let’s get back to the Games Night.”
We left the forest, but suspicion and worry mingled within me. I had a feeling we hadn’t seen the last of who or whatever had been spying on us.
3.
“Are you two coming to the funfair tonight?” Sophia asked Peter and me as we stood by our lockers at school. It had been a week since the weird encounter in the forest. Nothing unusual had occurred since, so I was trying to put it to the back of my mind.
I glanced at Peter, who wound his arm around my waist. “I’ll go if you will,” he said, his eyes tracing my features before his attention fixed on my mouth.
“Sure, I’m in,” I replied, a shiver trickling through me at the look in his eyes. A part of me would much rather skip the fair and spend the night alone at his place, but we’d been doing that far too often lately. We needed to make an effort to be more social and spend time with our friends.
“Hi, guys,” Angela greeted us as she approached. Her bright red hair was glossy and smooth, and there was a healthy glow to her cheeks. It was so good to see her thriving after the attack a few months ago. I still partly blamed myself for what happened. If it hadn’t been for me, Vasilios would never have been masquerading as a student and attending St. Bastian’s in the first place, nor would he have ordered his partner in crime, Sven, to incapacitate Angela just so she couldn’t tell anyone how she stumbled upon Vasilios’s true identity.
“Hey, Ange,” I replied. “We’re all going to the funfair tonight. Want to join us?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, I don’t know. I have a lot of homework to catch up on.”
“Come with us,” Peter urged. “You can do homework anytime. The funfair only comes once a year.”
Her attention went to him as she chewed her lip. “Maybe I can afford to take one night off.”
“That’s the spirit,” Peter replied with a warm smile.
“Great. So we’ll see you there,” I said.
Angela bobbed her head. “Yes, see you there.” She hitched her bag up on her shoulders and went.
“I better get going, too,” Sophia added. “See you both later.”
“See you later,” Peter replied, waving her off.
I turned to grab some books from my locker before closing it, then Peter descended on me, caging me against the door. “Want to head over to my place?” he asked, his eyes focused on my lips.
I sighed. “I can’t. I’m having dinner with my mother and sister. I promised them some quality time, but I’ll make it up to you later,” I replied, going up on my tiptoes to kiss him.
“I’m holding you to that,” he called as I walked away, unable to contain the smile tugging at my lips. I wanted nothing more than to go back to his apartment and be alone with him, but I’d been spending so much time with Peter lately that I’d been neglecting my other relationships. I was trying to make an effort to spend time with my parents and sister. Grace was also a little put out by how often I was with Peter.
“Your father ordered us sushi,” Mum said when I arrived home. She was standing at the kitchen counter unpacking takeout boxes from our favourite Japanese restaurant. Since my father was a vampire and didn’t consume human food, he liked ordering fancy dishes for us to enjoy.
“Perfect, I’m starving,” I said, eyeing the feast she was laying out.
“Go wash up, then take a seat at the table. I’ll bring everything over,” she said.
A few minutes later, Mum and I were seated at the dining table. Rebecca came downstairs soon after and took a seat. Dad had ordered more than enough for all three of us, and I loaded my plate with a few extra pieces before dipping one in soy sauce and popping it in my mouth.
“How has everything been at work?” Mum asked Rebecca.
My sister tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s been good. I have a few friends among the other faculty members now, which makes things a lot more bearable.”
“The students seem to behave better in your classes now, too,” I put in.
Rebecca nodded, a small smile shaping her lips. “Yes, thanks to Grace.”
“Why thanks to Grace?” Mum inquired.
“Grace pretended to act out in one of Rebecca’s classes so that she could punish her in front of everyone,” I explained. “Rebecca gave her a month of detention, and now, everybody’s much less inclined to misbehave in her class.”
Mum smiled as she lifted her glass of water. “That is quite ingenious, I must admit.”
“Grace wasn’t too happy about actually having to do the detention,” Rebecca said with amusement. “But we had to make it believable. I bought her a new pair of boots to make up for it.”
Huh. That was interesting. I’d wondered where Grace had gotten her fancy new boots but never had the chance to ask her. It made me think she and my sister were having interactions I wasn’t privy to. I made a mental note to quiz Grace about it since I didn’t want her to get hurt. I was the only one who knew about my cousin’s crush on my older, adopted sister. Well, Peter knew, too, but I trusted him not to tell anybody.
“What about you, Darya?” Mum said, turning to me. “Are your classes going well?”
I shrugged. “As well as can be expected. I wouldn’t go getting your hopes up for me to be named valedictorian or anything, but I’m confident I’ll at least pass my exams.”
