Booktok Candles Novels & Stories

It had to be the effect of Amy’s cleansing, cause I felt relaxed, prone to smile and holding a generous stock of patience for Price’s mood swings. “The candles, Fran.” Amy handed me two dozen tea light candles and as many tiny glass holders. “Are we setting the house on fire?” Price asked, curious in a playful way. “Maybe the day after tomorrow,” Amy replied. “Can you guys set them?” So we did. He was in charge of fitting the candles in their holders, for me to place them in the best circle I could make around the mat. Amy had set both pitchers on the mantelpiece and now she opened a fabric pouch with ground herbs that smelled of sage and juniper.

___ Selene’s POV The dim candlelight flickered against the old parchment as Selene traced her fingers over the delicate pages of the book Ronan’s mother had given her. The scent of aged paper filled the air, mingling with the subtle hint of burning wax. She had spent hours pouring over the text, meticulously taking notes on anything that seemed remotely useful. The book contained knowledge lost to time, secrets about the origins of their kind, forgotten magic, and hidden weaknesses that could turn the tide of war.

Lamps hanging on the wall burned without flame, the pale, ghostly light stretching across the floor. At the center of the space was a stone altar and a book. My eyes narrowed at the thick tome. “Wait, is that our answer?” I asked. Getta ran her hand over the cover reverently. “This book has existed before your pack existed. It’s dangerous.” “Wouldn’t expect anything less, of course,” Bennett murmured beside me. Without another word, Getta began to place things around the altar. Herbs, vials, and bones were the things I could recognize.

All of the books in this section were pay books and Steven told her that these books were sealed just like their special technique books so they must be similar. When Cassy asked him to show her which symbols were associated with which flames he complied and when she asked him why he thought there were no books on white, black, silver and purple flames he told her that it was probably because they didn't normally appear until higher levels. When Cassy saw the prices of these books she sighed and asked Steven if he wanted to go look for him because the cheapest book in that section was worth 1 500 credits and it was a sealed book for the yellow flame that she didn't have access to at the mome

“No perfume sets. No gift cards. She wants to know you thought about her.” I tilted my head. “So…like a handwritten poem on silk cloth or a rare Egyptian spice box?” Noah gave me a look. “Funny. You’re hilarious.” I smirked. “Just trying to help.” We ducked into a boutique-style store that sold handmade candles, bathrobes, mugs, and everything else that screamed lovingly overpriced. The kind of store that made you want to buy something just so you could say, I got this from that place with the tiny succulents and hand-written thank-you notes.

Finally, she produced a thick, leather-bound book that looked ancient, its cover worn and cracked. “Kendall,” Tanya said, her voice shaking. “What… what is all this?” Kendall didn’t answer. She arranged the candles in a circle on the hardwood floor, spacing them evenly. Then she opened the pouches, pouring what looked like salt, herbs, and something dark and grainy—ash, maybe—into the wooden bowl. The air in the room shifted. It felt like the temperature had dropped ten degrees. “Kendall,” I said carefully, trying to keep my voice steady. “What are you doing? What is all this for?”

She thought. She strolled around and spotted few scented candles which had a unique and sweet smell, she took one for her best friend-Tasha, a Christmas present, she made her way to the counter. On the way she spotted a booklet which picked her interest, it's paper were of unique quality, she was fascinated by them she wanted to buy them immediately but decided against it, she already had numerous booklets back home which she had bought but never used. With a heavy heart, she left the booklet at its place and went to pay the bill. "I'll take this." She handed the candle. "Gift?"

"It's not a regular candle. It's soy-based and has a low-melting point, unlike the normal kitchen candles. It doesn't dry into hard wax, it turns to oil on your skin." Despite his explanation, I still swallowed hard and eyed the candle warily. I guess I wasn't only afraid of needles, I was also afraid of hot wax from candles. "Do you trust me?" He asked gently, as he touched my face. I nodded, but still.. I couldn't drag my eyes away from the candle in his hand. Seeing that I was very nervous, he went back to his kinky drawer and returned with a blindfold. "This will help calm your mind," he muttered as he placed the black fabric around my eyes, blinding me.

A pathetic weapon against a sentient forest. I flicked it. The flame sparked to life. I touched it to the nearest vine, a thick tendril creeping over a root. Nothing. The flame licked at the waxy surface but wouldn’t catch. It was like trying to light wet rubber. I cursed, shoving the lighter back. My mind raced through my meager inventory. The candle. The weird white candle from the ferry ticket-taker. A low-grade Artifact with a ‘purifying’ tag I didn’t fully understand.

While focused on staining the bookcase, she lost all track of time and had no idea what he was really up to. Chris had completely transformed the room. Candles lit in numerous holders and containers throughout the room flickered, and a roaring fire beckoned her with its warmth. The white bulbs of string lights dipped along the mantel, the glow romantic and soft. With the sofa pushed back, Chris spread several blankets across the wooden floors with a bank of pillows lined against the furniture. Several bottles of