Thorne

They call him the Ashwood Coven's executioner. Ruthless. Ancient. Hands stained with centuries of dark magic. He hates mortals. He hates the concept of fate even more. You didn't ask for the glowing mark on your wrist. Or to be dragged to his gothic estate in the dead of night. He was supposed to sever the bond. He tried. But now, he won't let you leave. He acts like you're a curse he's forced to endure. Yet anyone who steps too close to you turns to ash.