"burn Those Who Burned Me!" Novels & Stories

But for the future he had imagined,the laughter, the plans, the whispered dreams were all destroyed by the person he had trusted most. And in that silence, Jerome Liu understood one bitter truth: Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again. Some hearts, once broken, never truly heal. And some betrayals… linger in the soul, burning, haunting, and shaping everyt hing that comes after. Tonight, his soul had been scorched. And there was no turning back.

Those words sank into my heart like a thousand steel needles. I had already spent over four years living as someone dependent, unwanted, trapped. They didn't love me. They tormented me. And yet, they refused to let me go. It was true—I could leave soon. Just not with Jonathan. I would leave on my own. My phone was still at the Sterling house. I would get it back, one way or another. And before I left, I wanted to say goodbye—to him, and to the past we had shared. "I can't walk anymore. Will you carry me?"

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!”

One review — the one that mattered, the critic who had said the second novel made staying feel like the bravest possible choice — wrote: The Morning is the final novel of the Burn Between Us sequence, and it does something I have never seen a four-novel sequence do: it ends by refusing to end. The last sentence is a morning. An ordinary morning, in a specific kitchen, with the coffee and the light and the person still asleep. Nothing happens in the last sentence except everything having been built. And the reader closes the book and looks up, and their own kitchen is there, and their own morning is coming tomorrow, and the novel has quietly handed you the only thing a novel can truly give: t

Every piece a puzzle to Ethan's empire. A small trail of gasoline trickled behind me like a fuse. I stood tall, flipping the lighter open. My thumb hesitated over the flame for just a second. "This is what he did to you," I whispered to myself. "He made you burn." The flame came to life. I tossed it. The warehouse exploded into light and heat behind me. I didn’t flinch. I walked away slowly, boots crunching gravel, eyes dead ahead. Let it burn. Let him burn.

And I meant it when I said: The moment I get my strength back… the moment I’m whole again… they’ll all burn. Every. Last. One.

“The Flamecarriers are leaving tomorrow.” “I know,” she said, coming to stand beside him. “They asked me to write them a code,” he added. “Not a rulebook. Just a promise.” Serena tilted her head. “What did you write?” He handed her the paper. “We do not burn to destroy. We burn to remember. And where there is memory—there is light.” She read it once. Twice. Then folded it and tucked it against her chest. “It’s perfect.” A Dream of Fire

DUAA "Then let the world burn, baby. Because on your birthday, you won't just wear the crown. You'll own the fire." His words echoed against the shell of my ear like a curse—dark, destructive, and terrifyingly inevitable. I froze in place, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and lips. His arms wrapped around me from behind, a slow drag of possessive fingers crawling up my waist as if he was claiming every inch of me with just a touch.

I'm exactly where I belong. And the heat inside me burns brighter than ever. Because they came for me. They fought for me. They reclaimed me. And tonight... They'll do it again and again. Until every inch of me remembers. Until I forget what empty feels like. Until I'm theirs completely. Forever.

There was a moment of silence and the next minute, the thousand trainees/protesters obeyed, dropping to their knees in sync, the sound of their legs meeting the hard granite echoing. I raised my hand to my forehead to shield my eyes from the orange sunlight as the day was already coming to an end. "Pugnamus et nulla est misericordia donec vincamus!" I yelled, balling my fists and raising them to my shoulder. ~We fight and there's no mercy until we win! Even when I knew they didn't understand a word I said, they raised their balled fists and let out a loud cry. "To the Blackwood estate!" Siobahn yelled from behind me, leading everyone to chant happily in return.