Burn Book: A Tech Love Story の小説・ストーリー

I couldn’t do that to her again, so until I had something concrete, I wouldn’t discuss it with Sapphire again no matter how much she suspected I was still on the hunt. So, I kept this to myself and shouldered the additional burden just like everything else in my life. I couldn’t let myself truly think about it or else I would be crushed under the weight of it all. Every single night I meticulously searched following even the smallest crumb of a trail that could lead me to Sonnet, and finally last night, I’d struck gold. It was a complete accident really, an unnamed firewall that appeared to be an easy block in the road. Most unobtrusive obstacles were simple to breech, but when I pressed for

Yet, with me, his love burned so fiercely it bordered on madness. It wasn't until I watched the video Rosa sent me that I finally saw the truth. Salvatore did love me, but he wanted to protect Rosa. A sharp pain tightened in my chest until I could hardly breathe. As it turned out, my father had been right all along. The only person I could ever trust was myself. I brushed away the tears, opened the safe, and pulled out the revolver I hadn't touched in years. The first shot tore through our wedding photo. The bullet split it clean down the middle, right between our joined hands.

Smoke filled my lungs—thick, black, choking. Five months pregnant, I woke to the scent of burning pine and sacred oak smoldering. Through the haze, I saw her: Eira, my fated mate’s foster sister, his “little sister of the pack,” pouring accelerant on our den threshold. I didn’t call him. Last life, I screamed through our bond. Cassian—my fated mate, my Alpha, the wolf I’d loved since we were six—came for me. Pulled me from the flames while Eira burned to charcoal behind us.

She had the novel on the side table. The copy Elian had sent her — printed and bound by her own hand, the way she did things she considered worth the effort. The pages had the specific quality of a book that had been read: the slight softening of the spine, the margin of a page turned down at a place that mattered. "You marked a page," Elian said. "The recognition passage," she said. "I marked it so I could find it again." "Can I see?" Elian said. She handed him the novel. He opened to the marked page and read the passage — the one he'd found in the revision, the one about the character watching the person he loved and the recognition being the love.

I swallow my saliva and take a deep breath. “It was hard for me to understand why my husband left me despite me trying hard to love him. And also, my bestfriend lied to me about a very important detail, so I got so depressed, and decided to seek help and go on therapy sessions, and there, Dr. Wales, hi by the way.” “Wow!” Sabrina exclaims so deep, “Damn! You’ve been through a lot! That’s why this book has so much emotion in it. I could feel every word you wrote. And well, congratulations on overcoming all.”

From then on, whenever I unknowingly wore a color she favored, used her favorite perfume, or styled my hair like hers, he would scowl or lash out with cold, cutting words. The most humiliating thing I'd ever done was to fall in love with a man who never truly belonged to me. I traced the burns on my legs and called my mentor abroad. If I were just a forgotten shadow beneath Tucker's true love, then walking away was the only thing left to do. … That evening, Tucker handed me a necklace. "You're coming with me to the cocktail party tonight. Don't make a scene."

(Hannah’s POV) The smell of burnt wood and ash still lingered in the air as I stepped over the caution tape. The building had been nothing more than a quiet corner bookstore—one I’d passed dozens of times without much thought. Now, it was a skeleton of charred beams and shattered glass. I swallowed hard. Standing here, in the middle of what was once a thriving business, made everything feel more real. This wasn’t just a story; it was someone’s life in ruins.

A woman with red wild hair and green eyes in an embrace with a man with shoulder length hair and chocolate brown eyes. UNDER MY SKIN….. The book was about an impossible love story. A broken heart leading to some very serious situation. An unhealthy relationship between a vampire and a woman. It was about soul mates. Vera loved the sound of it and so, she quickly opened the book and began reading. CHAPTER ONE….

The path to freedom was clear and direct. In murderous rage, I pierced my claws into the palm of my right hand, hovered it over the last remaining shreds of the book and watched Vincent's eyes glaze over with tears. I uttered a single word, "Burn." And the book caught on fire the moment drops of my blood from the cut I made on my palm came into contact with it. In Vincent's absentmindedness, with his gaze still pinned on the burning book, everything slowed down before me. I moved faster than the law of time permitted, over to where he knelt with a sorrowful expression as he watched the remains of the book become ash.

"H-how? I remember perfectly well when you were swimming in the burning flames of the poisonous fire." Amethyst muttered under her breath, still analysing the black covers of the big, bold book that she knew she burnt a few months ago. Her hands trembled at its heaviness — at how fresh and old it smelled. Old tales and unknown prophecies were still lingering on every page she turned over.