A Slow Fire Burning Novels & Stories

Before it could lower the sword to my head, fire has taken all over the place, claiming everything that comes in its way. For a moment, they look confused but after some moments they realize that the fire is constantly growing and nearing them. Soon, the fire has claimed several of the creatures and they’re running away to get it off them but it’s too late. The fire is devouring everything. The tree I am tied to catches fire and soon, I am being burned free. My whole surrounding is on fire. Those creatures are withering in pain and screaming for mercy as the fire continues to eat them away. A regal part of me takes over as the fire intensifies and slowly the tall trees are bowing down as the

Dorian POV The fire burned low. Not out of fuel - there was plenty stacked nearby - but as if it knew how the night felt. Like flame should keep quiet, too. Crackling only when necessary. Holding its breath with the rest of us. I saw them before they saw me.

Jackson’s breathing became unsteady. “I wasn’t supposed to lose you,” he whispered. The wind carried his words into the silent night. “I was supposed to save you.” His vision blurred with tears. “You promised we would have more time.” His voice broke. Slowly, he stepped forward and lowered the torch toward the dry wood beneath the pyre. The flame caught quickly. The herbs ignited first, releasing a strong fragrant smoke that curled upward toward the moonlit sky. Within moments the fire began spreading through the stacked logs, crackling softly as it consumed the wood. The flames slowly climbed higher. Jackson stepped back as the fire grew brighter.

Because after the storm, the calm was not the absence of fire. It was a slower, more constant burn, but still deep, visceral. A fire that did not destroy — it warmed. That did not consume — it nourished. The fire of a love that had survived spells, tragedies, years of separation, and that now burned quietly in the fireplace of a house that was finally ours. Eternal.

The green in his eyes shone like emerald in a royal crown. But as he watched the picture fall from the delicate pinch of her fingers, fluttering toward the floor from her squatted position they darkened. The picture, weighing less than a feather, fell toward the flame next to Lola. She didn't notice, caught up in a whirlpool of pain and suffering she stared mindlessly at the floorboards while the picture landed in the flame and caught fire. The fire spread onto the resting pictures on the ground and they all set aflame like burning domino tiles. Heat quickly swallowed the room and smoke rose around them suffocating the air. The flames spread big and wild around them but Lola sat still, the h

“Tell me what you're thinking.” “I’m thinking about how much I want to bury myself deep inside you,” I confided, starting to rock my hips back and forth and coating my entire length with her wetness before lowering a bit and aiming right where I wanted to be. “But we'll take it slow, okay? I want to savor this moment to remember it my entire life, Vivienne.” Her lips parted, but no sound escaped from them. Her eyes narrowed and didn't leave mine as I started to fuck her slowly, inch by inch. Her vaginal walls parted to welcome me into her warm, wet interior until I was finally fully buried in her.

This immediately explains why dragons are so fearsome. ‘Well, that, and we can literally blow fire’. ‘What?? How do you know? We haven’t done that, nor have we seen them doing it’. ‘Girllll… didn’t you see the smoke coming out of our nostrils? I can feel the fire inside of us’. ‘Ha! No wonder you always wanted to burn everything down to the ground’. ‘Look who’s talking’. She got me there.

I struck them again and again, the sound sharp and desperate in the silence. Spark. Missed. Spark. Dead. Spark— A flicker. I bent closer, shielding it with my hands. Blew gently. The ember caught on a twist of bark. A tiny flame unfurled like a breath held too long. I fed it slowly. Carefully. A dry twig, then another. The fire hesitated, crackled, then settled into a steady, low burn. My whole body slumped forward. It wasn’t much. But it was heat.

I need more. Grabbin' a bottle, I pour the contents alon' the bar, watchin' as the flames catch and dance along the wood. The fire spreads quickly, crawlin' up the walls, lickin' at the ceiling. I stand there, smilin', watchin' as it grows, the heat warmin' my skin. No fire alarms. No sprinklers. This place is goin' down in flames, and it’s goin' down fast.

The forest was quiet but alive, whispering under the fragile dawn. The air bit at my lungs as I crawled over charred roots, my body screaming, aching, yet alive. Every inch of me still smelled of smoke and ash, the pyre’s heat lingering beneath my skin like a secret pulse. The fire was still there—low, ancient, alive. I flexed my fingers, feeling the tremor in the air, the subtle curl of heat, the whisper I’d grown used to.