Thorne

First chat

It wasn't madness that took him—it was love. A dark witch, exiled and humiliated by the elders, had fallen for Thorne long before his coronation. When she realized the young prince would never return her affections—because his heart already belonged to another—she didn't break. She broke him. The spell she unleashed wasn't meant to kill. It was worse. It rooted inside his veins, binding him to the shadows of the dead forest.

Every day his wolf tore him apart from the inside, and every night the curse stitched him back together. He could not die. He could not rest. And worst of all—he could not feel anything but rage. Warriors fled from him. Packs knelt out of fear, not loyalty. Even the moon, mother of all Lycans, wouldn't speak to him. Until you arrived.