Book Home Fire Novels & Stories

Elian said. "I know why you came early," she said. "Come in." The house was warm. She had lit the fireplace in the front room — the same fireplace where they'd sat on the night of the diagnosis, which now held a different kind of warmth, the specific warmth of a room that has been frightened in and is being warm in again. She had the novel on the side table.

"It's a good thing Jacob is gullible. He believed you were in Manhattan even though you didn't return to your aunt's house. But did you shut up the Langham family's driver? Don't let them get a chance to attack you." "Take it easy, I always know what to do before moving forward." At the other end, Ursula let out a long sigh. "You're always playing with fire, Celine. Aren't you ever afraid of getting burned?" "I was already burnt before I even started this, Sula." Celine leaned back comfortably on the chair she was sitting on. Her eyes gazed at the road that seemed to be deserted. The driver who drove her chose to enter the freeway in order to quickly arrive at the place Celine wanted to go.

Right up three little steps, I walk on the green rug, behind the round flat wooden chair to the brown squared desk where a few books are stacked beside two transparent cylinder vase sets of orchids and right in the middle of the table is a lamp made in the from of a little tree with its leaves as bulbs of light. This part directly faces the little garden which is behind a pair of glass doors where fireflies play around the flowers and plants and climbing green plants climb their way up the handles to frame the door, adding to its beauty. After the desk is a white chaise lounge with pillows arranged on it alongside a cream colored blanket. "Don't get lost in it." His words ring in my head an

Fireflies drifted lazily near the porch, their glow catching on the whisper-wards etched into the doorframe. Inside, the air was cool and scented with rosemary and night-blooming herbs. Jars lined the shelves—powders, petals, bones, oils—each arranged with ritual precision. The hearth sat cold, waiting. Selene struck flint to tinder. Flames climbed eagerly, filling the small home with golden light. Rowan crouched beside the fire without being asked. He added wood until it roared, heat rolling through the cottage in waves. The glow gilded the rugged lines of his body, turning his tattoos to molten gold and casting long shadows across the floor.

The mansion that once stood as a symbol of power and wealth was now eerily silent, its doom approaching. Gabriel stepped forward, handing Cassian a lighter. The flick of the metal lid broke the stillness as Cassian opened it, his eyes locking onto the house—now no longer a home, but a grave for the family who had dared to cross him. His face remained cold, unmoved by the destruction about to unfold. With one last glance, he tossed the lighter toward the mansion's front door. The flames ignited instantly, crackling with a hunger that devoured everything in its path. Fire raced through the house, consuming it from the inside out.

Set Fire and Burn Trigger Warnings: Abduction, Violence, Murder/Assassination, Strong Language, Sex, Death, Substance Abuse, Dismemberment, Blood/Gore, Mutilation of Corpse, Sexual Assault, Crude Language, Immolation, Imprisonment, Voyeurism, Illegal Activities, Bondage, Prejudice, and Miscarriage. Not all family is blood, some family is found. Wounds take time to heal. Now shut up, sit down, and read this book like a good little mortal.

Although this graduation painting had not yet been completed, it was far superior to any of my previous works. The moment Willow saw the painting, her expression subtly shifted. I caught the flicker of greed and jealousy in her eyes. I looked around the room. In the next moment, I did something that left everyone completely flabbergasted. I pulled out a lighter and flicked it. Then, I brought the flame close to one corner of the canvas. "Cassidy! What are you doing?" Jess shouted sharply almost immediately. Needless to say, she was the first to react. The flame licked at the edge of the canvas and spread quickly. My masterpiece, the product of my passion and skill, burned down to ash before

Cara’s POV The world came back to me slowly. First the smell of smoke, then rain, then the sound of steady breathing beside me. My head rested on something warm and solid. When I opened my eyes, I realized it was Lucian’s chest. We were in his cabin, the one deep inside pack lands where no one but his Beta was allowed to come. A fire burned low in the corner, its glow brushing across his face. He was asleep in a chair beside the bed, still holding my hand like he thought I’d vanish if he let go.

Luka replied with a frown as he lit the piece of paper he was holding in his hand with his fire affinity. I wanted to let him know that Katrina had a dark side, but before I could reassure him, the entire library became engulfed with flames startling me. Smoke quickly filled the room as the books burned rapidly, feeding the ever-growing fire. “Luka,” I yelled, grabbing him by the arm, “we have to get out of here.” Luka didn’t respond, nor did he look at me as I pulled him towards me. I tried tugging harder, but he seemed mesmerized by the flame.

"Come on, Charlotte." And I flee to the chill sanctuary of the library, to hide in my book. ***** Some while later, the fire burn low; embers flicker and glow, dancing patterns of dragon-fire and nightshade. It's lovely, reminding me of my boyhood home. I toss on a couple more logs. I don't want the fire to die. The fumes from the brandy are heady and soporific and were it not for my reading, I might simply let sleep take me.