Crowned Crows of Thorne Point: A Dark New Adult Romantic Suspense
Crowned Crows of Thorne Point
Crowned Crows Book I
Veronica Eden
CROWNED CROWS OF THORNE POINT
Copyright © 2021 Veronica Eden
All rights reserved.
No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at this website:
www.veronicaedenauthor.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, companies, organizations, locales, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Cover Photography: Michelle Lancaster | @lanefotograph
Cover Model: Lochie Carey | @lochie_carey
Contents
Author’s Note
About the Book
Playlist
1. Rowan
2. Rowan
3. Wren
4. Wren
5. Rowan
6. Wren
7. Rowan
8. Wren
9. Rowan
10. Wren
11. Rowan
12. Wren
13. Rowan
14. Wren
15. Rowan
16. Wren
17. Rowan
18. Wren
19. Rowan
20. Wren
21. Rowan
22. Rowan
23. Rowan
24. Wren
25. Wren
26. Rowan
27. Rowan
28. Wren
29. Wren
30. Rowan
31. Rowan
32. Wren
33. Rowan
34. Rowan
35. Wren
36. Wren
37. Rowan
38. Wren
Thank You + What’s Next?
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Veronica Eden
Author’s Note
Crowned Crows of Thorne Point is a dark new adult enemies to lovers college romantic suspense intended for mature readers.
This is the first book in the Crowned Crows series following a gritty brotherhood of antihero bad boys and the feisty heroines that capture their hearts. Each book in the series should be read in order to understand the continuing plot. If you’re not a fan of morally bankrupt book boyfriends, steer clear.
This mature new adult romance contains dubious situations, crude language, and intense sexual/violent content that some readers might find triggering or offensive. Content warning for themes and brief mentions of off-page suicide and mentions of predatory grooming. Please proceed with caution.
Crowned Crows series:
#1 Crowned Crows of Thorne Point
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About the Book
To get an audience, you have to give up something. A secret, a favor…something that hurts. Welcome to Thorne Point, where darkness rules.
ROWAN
I enrolled at Thorne Point University to be closer to my brother.
Now my world is falling apart.
Ethan is missing.
Every day I can’t find him it plays on repeat.
The search for answers turns up nothing and I’m running out of options.
But there’s a rumor on campus.
And I’m desperate enough to seek out the Crows as my last resort.
Wren Thorne’s reputation precedes him, but I won’t take no for an answer.
WREN
The night belongs to us.
We run this town.
Wear the rumors like crowns.
But after losing the most important thing to me, my brothers are all I have left.
Our bond runs deeper than blood.
When Rowan comes looking for our help, I do one thing I shouldn’t: break all my rules.
She asked for monsters? I’ll show her one.
Playlist
(Spotify)
Obey—Bring Me The Horizon, YUNGBLUD
Teardrops—Bring Me The Horizon
Broken Pieces—Apocalyptica, Lacey
Unperson—Nothing But Thieves
How Does It Feel?—Tonight Alive
Animals—Architects
Nightmare—UNDREAM, Neoni
Yes Offense—Unlike Pluto
Monster—Willyecho
Closer—Nine Inch Nails
STFD—TeZATalks
Cravin’—Stileto, Kendyle Paige
Legends Never Die—League of Legends, Against The Current
Dancing With The Devil—Demi Lovato
la di die—Nessa Barrett, jxdn
I Hate Everything About You—Three Days Grace
The Legacy—Black Veil Brides
Can You Feel My Heart—Bring Me The Horizon
FEED THE FIRE—coldrain
Throne—Bring Me The Horizon
The Violence—Asking Alexandria
Ready Set Let’s Go—Sam Tinnesz
Nightmare—Scarlet City, Anxxiety
Darkside—grandson
Fallout—UNSECRET, Neoni
Painkiller—Three Days Grace
I Am the Fire—Ghost Monroe
DARKSIDE—Neoni
Kerosene—Rachel Lorin
Can’t Stop the Fire—Leslie Powell
Give ‘Em Hell, Kid—My Chemical Romance
RISE—League of Legends, The Glitch Mob, Mako
Snake—Halflives
Misery Business—Machine Gun Kelly, Travis Barker
Stay And Decay—Unlike Pluto
Sound off the Sirens—Sam Tinnesz
Madness—Ruelle
Some people fear the darkness of night when they should fear the darkness of the human heart.
P.W. Imel
One
Rowan
Foggy smoke curls through the red stage lights filling the decrepit estate ballroom. It creates a haze, highlighting the hedonistic abandon of the bodies grinding on each other to a heavy beat of music. Hands reach into the air above the crowd and drunken laughter mingles with the telltale sounds of some casual public fondling. It’s an odd mix, people partying amidst cracked molding and peeling wallpaper.
The Crow’s Nest Hotel is the place to be for Thorne Point University students. It’s not where I like to be. This is my first—and last—time in this creepy, run down estate-turned-nightclub. Let the ivy finish swallowing it and return it to the earth.
I scuff my Vans on the ancient floor and tuck my denim jacket tighter around me as I move through the crowd. A guy from my Media Theories class dances up on a girl in a black leather miniskirt and a sheer mesh top. It shows off her fancy bra, one that’s meant to be seen as Mom would say.
All around me it’s the same—people decked out like this is a legit nightclub instead of an abandoned turn of the century hotel half reclaimed by nature and time. I feel out of place, but I can’t go back now. Not when I’ve come this far looking for answers.
If it wasn’t for Ethan, I wouldn’t have applied to
college in Thorne Point, Maine. But I’ve always idolized my brother and chasing in his footsteps is what I’ve been best at for twenty-one years. From the time I could walk, I followed him everywhere. College was no different, same degree focus in journalism and everything. So here I am, on the rocky coast of Maine at the start of my senior year, wading through sweaty drunk people because I have no other choice.
Thinking of Ethan makes it hard to breathe for a moment, anxiety climbing up my throat to choke me. I can’t picture the worst. It keeps happening anyway. That’s what a true crime Netflix binge will do.
“Rowan!” The guy from my class waves me over without missing a beat, drink held high while he nearly bends his dance partner over. “Come dance!”
“I’m good.” I raise my voice to be heard over the music.
“Come on! Don’t be like that.” Mesh top chick arches against him, looping her arms back around his neck. “Come have fun with us!”
“You study too much.” The guy from class winks. “Semester’s just getting started. Live a little.”
They both hold out their hands to me this time, the girl giving me a heated once over. Oh. Oh.
Well, I’m not really down for a threesome tonight, but thanks for the compliment. When I point to the shadowed area at the back of the ballroom, their expressions shift to seriousness.
“Not here to party,” I say.
“Good luck,” the girl in the mesh top replies grimly.
Yeah. I’m gonna need it.
Nodding, I move on, weaving through the people writhing to the DJ’s mix. It’s difficult to tell if my heart beats faster because of the pumping music the DJ spins on stage or if it’s nerves. The few things I’ve heard about the guys I’m heading for aren’t pleasant. Discomfort twists my stomach.
Whatever happens, I have to get them to agree to help me. Finding Ethan depends on it.
The word is that these guys own this nightclub. Most of the students at Thorne Point University have trust funds. As a grant student, I’m one of the few odd ones out. Dad’s life insurance helped, but without the grants me and my brother never would’ve been able to enroll here.
I slam down hard on the thought of Dad and the gnawing guilt that always comes with thinking of the accident.
My lip throbs from how hard I dig my teeth into it. By the time I wrestle the memories of my dead father behind a mental fortress, I’ve nearly bitten through the skin. Sidestepping two drunk dudes carrying bottles of top shelf champagne, I prod at the tender pulse in my lip.
Ay yo, I’m surrounded by rich people check, I think scornfully in the tone of a trending TikTok sound bite.
It never bothered Ethan that everyone in this city seems loaded, but as I pass a trio of girls rocking diamonds with their designer dresses I have to wonder what made college students buy this property other than the fact they could.
The place looks straight up haunted from outside. Its crumbling structure sits on a hill overlooking a jagged cliffside drop to the ocean. In its heyday it was probably beautiful and regal, but now the eerie stone and brick building gives off big gothic mansion aesthetic vibes complete with an old shrubbery maze that’s half dead.
It took me a solid fifteen minutes of white-knuckling my steering wheel before I coached myself to get out and take the winding stone path to the club’s entrance. The whole time I was trying not to jump out of my skin, wondering why the fuck anyone would voluntarily treat themselves to Thorne Point’s own house of horrors. I would’ve happily avoided this weird excuse for a party spot all the way to graduation, but I have to be here.
The Crow’s Nest Hotel holds my last resort to find my missing brother. They watch from the shadows at the back of the room.
Two
Rowan
The rumors around campus are what brought me here. People say these guys will do favors. For the right price, they’ll do anything.
A thick wad of cash burns a hole in my pocket as I weave through the dancing college students. It’s everything I have saved up. I emptied my bank account, except for the five bucks I put in my gas tank to get up here from the campus in the heart of the city.
Not sure how I’ll manage rent on the apartment, but that’s a problem for Future Rowan.
For Ethan, I’ll give up anything. Even the apartment we’ve shared since I started my freshman year. Whatever it takes to find my brother.
The red DJ lights don’t flicker at the back of the room. A pit forms in my stomach as I force my feet to move.
Did the temperature just drop? Or is that draft because there’s a broken window, or maybe a missing chunk of wall somewhere nearby? I shudder through the chill and come to a stop in front of a group of guys enjoying the wild show from their seats on a dais.
The Crowned Crows. Thorne Point’s own version of the mafia according to the rumors.
There are four of them sprawled like kings in threadbare vintage furniture as their makeshift thrones. A few girls are with them, seated on laps and giggling when two of the guys whisper to them.
“Colton,” one of the girls squeals as he sets down a cigar, slips his long fingers between her thighs, and teases beneath the hem of her short mini dress.
My teeth grind. They seem more absorbed in doing body shots with champagne—which is really just spilling champagne down cleavage and licking it up because they can afford to. The girl’s protest from before dies off in a moan as Colton sucks on her throat.
“What, baby?” His wicked chuckle is contagious amongst his friends. “Can’t waste any.”
“Hey!” I finally bite out when they act like I’m invisible.
I have their attention now. The full intensity of it has the base of my spine tingling with the urge to flee from danger, but I won’t back down.
Their gazes range from bored, to carnal, to indifferent, to angry and cold once they realize I’m here to crash their private party. My nose wrinkles. It stinks of the smoke curling from their cigars.
The blond with ruthless blue eyes is in the middle in a wingback chair. There’s something about the way he carries himself—not just with confidence, but absolute power—that makes me guess he’s the infamous Wren Thorne.
The suit he’s wearing looks as if it was made specifically for him. Like his friends, he has a girl seated on his thigh, her manicured nails trailing over his muscular chest through his half undone shirt. The outline of a nipple piercing is visible. He seems bored, head propped against his thumb and forefinger. Bored but brutal looking.
My heart gives a shocked flutter at the sight of him at the center of the group. The way people whisper about him, I pictured something out of my nightmares. But he’s handsome with a strong jawline and broad shoulders. His blond hair is slicked back, the sides trimmed short.
Wren’s sharp gaze locks with mine—then I understand. They might be a group, but everything about him declares him the king.
“I need help.” I inject steel into my voice.
The corner of Wren’s mouth twitches. He doesn’t answer. Rolling my shoulders back, I climb the steps of the raised platform. One of his friends—Colton—blows cigar smoke in my face. I cough, waving away the acrid smoke.
“What the fuck, dude?” I snap, glaring.
Colton would be irresistibly attractive if it wasn’t for that cocky edge to his dimpled grin. He shrugs, flicking disheveled dark brown hair out of his eyes. With the motion, my attention drops to the crow inked into his neck that dips into the open collar of his black shirt.
The guy next to him is decked out head to toe in tight dark clothes that don’t hide how ripped he is. A lip ring sits at the corner of his mouth. He’s eerily still other than the flick of his wrist when he plays with a switchblade, no girl in his lap. I don’t blame them—dude’s creep factor is dialed up to a hundred.
Balling my fists, I direct my next attempt at the last guy in their group this time, the one with striking golden brown eyes and bronze skin.
“I said I need help. Rumor has it you�
�re the guys to come to.”
He gives me a hungry once over that makes the tip of my ears burn. Those golden eyes draw me in. Instead of responding, he chokes the neck of a champagne bottle and brings it to his lips for a swig.
Pursing my lips, I swing my attention back to the man at the center of the group.
The drag of Wren’s blue gaze over me isn’t a seductive caress. It’s the opposite—mercilessly cold and calculating. He’s sizing me up and I get the sense I’ve been found wanting.
Frustration singes my nerve endings while I search for an angle to work as if this is one of my story snags. I need their help, no matter how much he annoys me.
With the smallest dismissive gesture, the girl perched on Wren’s knee hurries off demurely, eyes cast down. He barely moved his fingers, not bothering to lift his hand from the armrest of his chair. The others follow after her.
My eyes narrow. Wren might be hot, but more importantly he seems like an asshole that expects everything to be done at his command.
Colton releases a lamenting groan before he settles, putting his cigar between his teeth, studying me. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”