Burn The Novel Novels & Stories

If she saw me zoning out one more time, she’d definitely start bugging me. We kept walking, and Veronica was her usual chatty self, typical Veronica, always rambling about milk tea and romance novels. She can stay up all night reading those love stories, but when it comes to our class textbooks? She’s already yawning by the first page. We were already inside the milk tea shop, I had my drink in hand, but Veronica was still at the counter, arguing with the server about the quality of the sugar used. A few more minutes passed before she finally wrapped things up and marched straight over to the table where I was sitting.

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.

What she didn’t notice was the sinister smile that flashed across his face. ... Before I passed out, the sun had scorched my mind into a haze. In my daze, it felt like I had returned to my previous life. Janine’s face twisted with cruelty as she hung me outside the shelter, leaving me under the blazing sun. She even brushed oil onto my skin to intensify the burning. The pain jolted me awake. However, when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a room almost identical to my own temperature-controlled shelter. “You’re finally awake!”

I was dead. So, a fire was lit, starting right from the master bedroom of the Miller estate. Scorching heat rushed over Ethan, the bright flames illuminating his pale face. He didn’t run or call for help. He just stood there, pulling out the very knife he had once confiscated from my hands and driving it into his own neck. As blood splattered everywhere, the red glow of the fire burst into the sky. Just like that, everything was burned to ashes and wiped away. At that point, the tragic webnovel written by the AI had officially come to an end.

The ending created by silly words lost its weight at this point. I hovered above the bookmark sign at the top right corner of the screen before clicking on it. The menu popped up, and I chose to delete the book from my homepage. A notification popped up at the center of the screen. [Are you sure you want to delete the book? This process is irreversible.] I clicked confirm. The progress bar completed in a flash, and the book vanished without a trace from my homepage. Ding! My phone lit up. I received a text. [Processing complete. You have received 10,000,000 dollars into your bank account for completing the S-Rank mission!]

Selene read it three times, but each time she understood it less rather than more, just as Moira's answers always did, like a box that opened only to reveal another box, smaller and more tightly shut than the one before. That night she burned the letter in the fireplace, watching the paper curl and turn black before finally crumbling into ash, and realized, with a bitterness that surprised her because it was so profound, that she had in effect exchanged one fire for a life which had been made up almost entirely of things which she had never really been allowed to understand fully, and that Moira, no matter what else she might have been, had never at any time intended that situation to be alt

It is like it has become a part of my soul. I can never forget that scene. That scene still torments me. My small beautiful “Nightwood Village” was burning. Everything was burning. There was smoke and fire of selfishness everywhere. The king’s soldiers have lit everything on fire. The farms, meadows, and homes, the king’s soldiers did not leave anything behind.

I continued, softer now, almost conversational, “I can think of a few names that would fit you perfectly.” Her chest rose and fell faster than before, breath shallow, uneven. The silence stretched tight between us, humming with something unnamed—something dangerous. Not touch. Not yet. Just presence. Just pressure. Fuck—I could practically taste her arousal from across the room. I’d torn through a good chunk of the book she’d been reading the other night. Tragedies of True Hearts. Filthy. Twisted. The kind of story people pretended to hate while secretly devouring every page. A girl caught between a stalker and his brother—meant to choose, only to be claimed by both instead.

Carla and Travis watched from the sidelines, hands clasped. “We did it,” Carla said, her voice steady. Travis nodded. “And we’re just getting started.” The scars remained, but they were no longer wounds. Dave, Carla, and the other victims were healing, not just surviving but thriving, their journeys a testament to resilience, love, and the unyielding power of talent reclaimed. ----- This marks the end of the Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire. Compiled short story arcs now made their way to their ends. See you next time. There'll be more ahead. Thank you!

Nives’s fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of Asena's linen shirt, her breathing turning shallow as she traced the fierce, burning fire in Asena's dark eyes. "Nives..." Asena whispered, her voice barely a breath, the name escaping her lips before she could stop it. Nives didn't reply with words. Instead, her gaze dropped slowly to Asena’s lips, her jaw tightening with an intense, agonizing restraint that felt more dangerous than any corporate war they had ever waged. The walls of her pristine fortress hadn't just cracked; they were burning to the ground, and she was entirely content to let them turn to ash.