Novel & Cerita A Season For Setting Fires Dramione

"My men who were ordered to keep their eyes on you were found dead in the bin. One thing was not settling. One of my men was badly burnt. When the firefighter came to the spot they found no one. I'm certain the man who called them was the man who was burnt. Damon was there, watching the situation all this time. He was ordered to stay there and make sure no one helps you but two of my men got inside the house to save you. One of them was killed by Damon who was defending his friend who went inside to save you. The flames were too much and the man ended up burning himself. Damon killed him on the spot and was about to kill you too but the firefighters got on the scene. He took you away and cou

Damian grumbled angrily, not able to stay quiet any longer. Chantel smiled seductively as she placed her hands on her hips. "Vacation, baby. If you were still fucking me you would have noticed I hadn't been around for a few days before your precious vampire went missing." Chantel winked at Damian before she turned around and cupped her hands around her mouth. "LIGHT IT, BOYS!" Two young men went to the large pile of wood and blew towards it; only, it wasn't air that came out of their mouths, but fire. Dragons .... they had rogue dragons on their side as well.

He could feel the heat of the flames from where he stood, and the acrid smoke stung his eyes and throat. The firefighters worked tirelessly for hours, but the mansion was a lost cause. The flames had spread too quickly and too far, consuming everything in their path. Dmitry stood off to the side, his heart heavy with grief and anger. He knew that finding another mansion was easy, but he was more concerned about finding the person or persons responsible for this act of arson. He had enemies, many of them, but he never thought anyone would go this far.

Darren's face was illuminated by the flickering orange and red hues. The fire was a living thing, twisting and turning, dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Sparks flew high into the sky, like tiny fireflies seeking freedom from the flames. The logs groaned and snapped as the heat consumed them, sending embers spiraling up into the darkness. "Leah, the only reason I'm with you is that you're my friend," Darren said. His chiseled face looked flawless under the night sky. "Darren, do you know something that you don't want to tell me?" I asked.

Its mouth is open in a wide, vicious grin, teeth flashing in the moonlight as it moves toward a small flicker of fire burning weakly about fifty feet from Veyra’s camp. It’s not Veyra’s fire. She didn’t build one. Smart girl. Fire means warmth, but it also means exposure. “This is going to be interesting,” Rael mutters quietly, leaning forward in his chair. We all watch as the rogue circles closer to the fire where another Omega is sitting, trying desperately to pile on more wood. She hasn’t noticed him yet. She’s too busy crying and fumbling with the sticks, trying to stay warm. She’s got no chance. No scent-masking, no protection, nothing but hope.

It wasn’t her though; it was Osline, but it’s still the same thing. I had to burn my hand to match the exact pain she’s probably feeling, to punish myself. I know it’s crazy, but like I said, I can’t help it. After I rinse away the spilled coffee, I open the cupboard and pull out my lighter. For a moment my stomach drops. I stare at it, heart racing in my ribs. I flick the flame and press it to my arm. I hold back my scream as it keeps burning me. This is what happens when I can’t stop thinking about ‘her’ I have to hurt myself until I can stop.

It was all over now, she had to go back to reality. She dropped the gown into the fire and the fabric caught immediately. She added the wig next, watching the white synthetic hair melt and burn. Then she dropped the mask and shoes. One by one, she fed every item to the flames. And with each piece that burned, she felt something settle in her chest. "What are you doing?" The voice cracked like a whip and she jumped, turning around. Damon stood at the edge of the clearing, he was dressed in running clothes and there was sweat on his forehead.

she fought against his grip, kicking and screaming in pure, manic desperation. Duncan leaped from the bed of the truck, his sharp nostrils flaring as he tried to catch the distinct, sweet scent of his children amidst the overwhelming smell of smoke, timber, and raw gasoline. The fire had been deliberately started with military-grade accelerants, The Fixer's signature method. It was a distraction designed to blind them. "Alpha! Over here!" Remus shouted from the sidewalk a few yards away. Duncan and Oscar rushed over, shielding Amora between their bodies. There, lying slumped against a concrete bench on the smoke-covered sidewalk, was Susan Wayne.

Thomas shouted orders, but his voice was nearly swallowed by the sound coming from the forest. Growls. Footsteps. Branches snapping. Not horses. Wolves. Huge shadows slid between the pines, low to the ground, eyes glowing gold in the falling dusk. Not rogues. Damien’s actors had arrived. Only now, the stage was mine. I pulled the knife from my thigh. “Ben!” I shouted. “Light it!” He did not hesitate. The torch dropped. Pitch-soaked branches caught with a hungry roar, fire leaping blue-orange into the snow-heavy air.

The next evening, I went to the Ravenwood night market alone. The downtown street outside the packhouse had been closed for the full-moon fair. Food trucks lined both sides of the road, neon signs glowed in storefront windows, and young wolves gathered around the training square where blue moonfire burned in metal drums. Moonfire was a ceremonial flame made from silver-pine resin and moon oil. It burned bright and beautiful, hot enough to scar if someone got careless, but it wouldn’t kill a wolf the way wolfsbane would. In our pack, an Alpha danced through the moonfire before choosing his Luna. It was old-fashioned, a little reckless, and ridiculously romantic. In my last life, Kyle had lear