A Light In The Flame Book 3 Novels & Stories

"Owen, you've let me down too much. I nearly lost my life because of you, and this is how you repay me. What right do you have to ask for my forgiveness and for me to marry you?" My words hit him like a crushing blow. He almost lost his balance. The pain in his eyes was overwhelming. "No, Shannon. Everything I did was for you." "Was it really for me? Or for yourself? Only you know the answer to that." I picked up my suitcase and walked out. "Owen, did you really think that you covered your tracks so perfectly? The police aren't blind. You'd better prepare yourself." As I reached the door, I ran into Luca, who had just returned home. His eyes lit up when he saw me.

Through the haze of light, I saw him stumbling backward, arm raised to shield his face, features contorted in terror. The light pushed against him like a physical force, sending him sprawling against the opposite wall. Picture frames crashed to the floor. The overhead light fixture exploded in a shower of glass and sparks. I couldn't stop it. The light surged from me in waves, each pulse draining something vital from my core. My knees buckled. The hallway tilted. Darkness rushed in from the edges of my vision, and I welcomed it, desperate for the light to stop. --- I woke on my apartment floor, surrounded by shattered glass and the acrid smell of burned carpet. My limbs felt leaden, my mouth

I keep my sobs quiet as I sneak out of the room. It’s still dark outside. I tiptoe throughout the house until I get to the backyard. Then I let Ash take over and stretch her legs. We run through the forest, but it’s not the same thrill it used to be. Ash lets out a mournful howl. The ache never relents. She runs along the border, only stopping when she catches the scent of Aurora Flame. A dark figure stands near the border. Ash takes a fighting stance, but the figure holds his hands up in defeat. She growls as he moves closer to us. The figure steps into the moonlight, sending relief over Ash and me.

“Then we do this together.” Celeste nodded. “The first fire will be named. The justification dismantled. And the pattern broken.” Outside, the city lights flickered on as evening settled. The world continued, unaware of the history written into ash beneath its feet. Evelyn looked once more at the folder on the table. Fires. Names. Lies framed as necessity. The first fire had been lit in fear. This time, the truth would burn instead. And it would not stop until the pattern was gone.

Her living room window allows her to see the beautiful night sky adorned with bright lights shaming the stars and even the moon. She imagines Nate and Nina looking at that same beautiful sky after having a lovely dinner while she dines on hot noodle and a cup of coffee. "I'm so pathetic. How did I become like this?" she asked herself. She's about to call for food delivery when Ivy's call came in. She already knows exactly what she's going to ask her. "I just talked to the TV producer. She's okay with the third book being launched in January next year. She told me they would broadcast the series in three weekends in February," Ivy said.

A very, very flammable statue. ‘I waited three whole days for you to come back,’ Vanessa mused, her voice a conversational purr as she played with a sleek metal lighter. ‘If you hadn’t scuttled out of London like a frightened little mouse on Friday, we could have wrapped this up days ago.’ The lighter flicked open. A flame sparked to life. She closed it. Open. Flame. Closed. The little fire danced at her fingertips, a tiny, hellish metronome. One slip, one deliberate toss, and I’d be the human equivalent of a Christmas pudding. A very well-done one.

Every memory was a wound reopened, every truth a blade cutting deeper. Alina gasped, clutching her head as visions flooded her mind. “Focus!” Alaric’s voice cut through the chaos. “Find the Flame. It’s the key.” I moved closer, reaching out to steady her, but the space around us shifted, and I nearly lost my footing. This was a realm where reality bent to will and emotion. Then I saw it. A flicker of silver-blue light, like a flame dancing just beyond reach. Alina’s eyes locked on it, raw desperation turning into resolve.

Smoke hung in the air, and the room fell into a breathtaking silence. Luna floated, her body bruised and battered. Just as the flame had begun, the smoke moved into her nostrils and began to come out in a rhythm. The amber light surrounded her, moving around like fireflies; it flew above her and stung her in the forehead. Luna's scream echoed around the room; the light passed through her, and from every part it took, scarlet light emitted from it.

"You think that's how you win? You die, the loop resets, and I'll still be here. All you're doing is wasting your limited number of runs." "Let's see if that's true." I didn't bother arguing. My thumb slammed down on the lighter. With a click, a blue flame jumped to life. The killer's eyes widened. The instant the flame appeared, he jerked back, retreating without a second's hesitation and slamming the door shut. But it was pointless. Before he came, I'd already made sure the gasoline vapor had spread through every inch of space outside the door. I let out a cold laugh and loosened my hold on the lighter, letting it slip from my hand. The moment the flame touched the floor, the world explode

“The prophecy is not stronger than you.” --- The chamber glowed. The obsidian mirrors shattered silently. From their shards rose a faint hum. A third reflection. A circle restored. Not through binding. Through choice. --- The world trembled that night. But it did not break. --- Far away, in the ruins of Azthera’s altar, the First Flame flickered. It did not roar. It did not rise. It waited. Because the child had chosen light over legacy. And that changed everything. ---