Burn Burn Burn Chords Novels & Stories

Jenny’s body trembled as she crouched behind the broken pew. The sound of footsteps echoed through the church, slow and deliberate. She could feel Ethan’s grip tighten on her wrist, his breath warm against her ear. Whoever had entered was searching for them. Her heart pounded so hard she feared it would give them away. The steps moved closer. Ethan pressed his lips near her ear. “Stay quiet,” he whispered. Jenny barely nodded. The silence stretched, thick with tension. Then, just as suddenly as they had entered, the footsteps retreated. The heavy church doors creaked shut, leaving behind an eerie stillness.

The concert's atmosphere grew more intense by the minute, with everyone's focus locked on the stage. It seemed like I was invisible, blending into the shadows of the concert. The dim lights gave me a false sense of bravery. I moved to the beat of the music, letting the rhythm guide my steps. She moved with a rhythm that made the air between us tremble, every motion sent a heat through me that I could not contain. I reached for her waist and pulled her close, the sudden rush of contact hit me like fire, every cell in me coming alive.

It wasn't the same, but I was frustrated, and I couldn't exactly go and knock on his door and ask Mom to let me borrow her husband for a while. I stroked with my fingers, rhythmically, just like he would. I closed my eyes and imagined it was Damian's long fingers invading my insides. My back arched, soft moans had started filling the room. My free hand covered up my mouth—I wouldn't want anyone out there to hear me moaning Damian's name. I kept on going, increasing the pace until I felt I had reached a limit. Beads of tears formed on the corner of my eyes. A singular motion and the flood gates were open. My juice poured out like a broken tap, and for a moment all I could see was white. After

Now, I have turned those cinders into a blade. Bennett did not lose hope, desperate to hit back after losing everything. "You think you're the winner?" The email attachment showed my face crudely edited onto explicit images, with the backdrop of our family's hotel, sent to every young member of the prominent families.

The car tore down the road, skimming the asphalt as its taillights carved a red streak through the night. By the time Salvatore reached home, the outer walls of the third floor were charred black, and thick smoke churned from a narrow window. He moved before he could think, charging straight toward the flames. However, two of his men grabbed him. "Don Russo, you can't go in there! The fire's not out yet!" But he shoved them aside, his eyes wild with fury. "Useless bastards! If you won't save Arianna, then I will!"

No lines left to cross. Just fire. And whoever burned first.

Just once. “Let the world burn.”

Heat hit us from behind, the wave intense it felt like my skin might burn off. The air smelled of burning chemicals, smoke, and something metallic. My wolf, weak as she was, stirred faintly inside me, confused. I forced my eyes open despite the sting, trying to see him. A mask covered most of his face and all I could see were his eyes, which were bright and then an unusual scar on his chin.

Silent. Burning.

Back in the car, every second was agony for Connor. His fists were clenched tight on his thighs, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He stared unblinking at the crumbling building ahead. "Connor, relax. It'll be fine, don't worry," one of the guys said. "Yeah, there's no way it'll kill her. We've calculated everything," another said. But their voices didn't register. Connor couldn't even bring himself to speak. Then, all at once, he shot up and made for the burning building.