Prison of Thorns – Blood Prophecy Read Online L.H. Cosway

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)

Darya Cristescu has been living a charmed life. She has the perfect boyfriend, is just about to turn nineteen and will soon graduate from the St. Bastian Institute for Magic and the Supernatural.
All that goes belly up when she’s framed for a crime she didn’t commit. Luckily, the authorities know exactly who set her up: the demon warlock she helped send to prison only a few short months ago. What they don’t know is how he managed to orchestrate everything whilst bound by wards and magical blocks.
Eager to assist in the investigation, Darya makes the tough decision to leave her family, her friends, and most importantly, her boyfriend behind and go undercover to the Prison of Thorns. She must pretend she’s been found guilty and sentenced to serve time, all the while gaining access to Vasilios, earning his forgiveness and trust, and figuring out how he managed to frame her.
However, nothing goes according to plan. In the cutthroat microcosm of the prison, Darya and Vasilios are forced to become allies. She learns about his past and the strange dimension he came from, making the realisation that it might not have been him who framed her but someone else entirely. And when all is said and done, Darya finds herself changed utterly, no longer the protected daughter of the most powerful couple in Tribane, but a woman who survived the horrors of prison hand in hand with the one person she used to consider her very worst enemy.

Thorns is book #2 in L.H. Cosway’s Blood Prophecy Series. It is necessary to read book #1, Foretold, before reading this installment.

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“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.



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.


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.