"burn Those Who Burned Me!" Novels & Stories

Playing in the game to lose I did everything for you It's all your fault It's all your fault, bitch Why you gotta be so cruel Playing in the game to lose I did everything for you I hope you suffer Now I swear we'll never make it out alive Cuz we're tied up in this burning house Tied up in this burning house Tried to save us but you watched us die Now we're locked inside this burning house You won't ever let me out Burn it to the ground, burn it to the ground Listen to the fire, revel in the sound Burn it to the ground, ground, ground Locked inside this burning house Burn it to the ground, burn it to the ground Listen to the fire, revel in the sound Burn it to the ground, ground, ground You w

Pack my burner, my badge, my Glock. If this is going to implode, I want to be front row. Because the whole thing’s cracking. And I just set the first match.

She whispered against his collarbone: “They don’t own the fire anymore.” Cassian’s voice was low. “No. You do.” She looked out at the crowd. At the ash in the water. At the boy who watched from behind Nova’s leg, his drawing clutched in his hand. Then she said, to everyone: “You will forget names. You will forget policies. But you will not forget this.” “And when they come again because they will you will remember: I burned, and I walked out.”

Lightning flashed again, lighting up their bodies for a second, her soaked dress transparent, his shorts tented, her leg wrapped around him, his hand buried between her thighs. “Don’t stop,” she gasped against his mouth, voice breaking. “Please, your fingers feel so good.” Theo groaned and added a third finger, stretching her wider. The burn felt perfect after so long without anything inside her. He fucked her with deep, steady strokes, his palm slapping lightly against her clit with every thrust. Rain streamed down his back and over her breasts. Her nipples were so hard they hurt. Elise’s hips moved frantically now, riding his hand. Her juices coated his fingers and ran down his wrist, mixi

When the other healers and assistants strolled in to prep, I stayed cool, gave them a nod. Said I forgot something. Took the rag straight to my office, locked it away. Scrubbed back in. Reset. Same damn faces. Same traitors. I locked in—no drifting into courtroom flashbacks. This time, I stayed till the bitter end. No early exits. Not even mine. Last time? I was wrecked—pregnant, exhausted. Left before the final stitch. Let someone else close. Didn't know they were all Jack's puppets. Looking at those wolves I'd fought beside, all I felt was ice.

The symbol of the old. ‘Auri, please…’ I growled, slamming my fist into the soft malleable stone that was beneath me. My knees sinking into it as it turned more and more liquid. “Let them all burn. Let it all burn.” I repeated over and over. My anger and pain weaving between them. -

Something older than gods leans closer. And every instinct I have — wolf, flame, queen — screams the same thing: Run. But I don’t. I burn.

She cried openly, her tears wetting the silk of Asena’s emerald blouse, her body shaking as she poured the entire, heavy ledger of her past trauma into the dark fabric. "I have you," Asena whispered fiercely into her skin, her fingers loosely tangling into the dark waves of Nives’s hair, cradling the back of her head to anchor her close. She rocked her slowly against the edge of the desk, her own tears blurring her vision. "I have you, Nives. I’m not going anywhere. Look at me. I am not her. I will never steal your fire. And will never betray you. " But outside the executive suite, the church-like silence of the twenty-fourth floor had become a trap.

My reflection looked like a stranger's eyes faded, lips pressed tight. And then, almost without noticing, I whispered to the glass, to the city, to myself: “Just one night of freedom. That’s all I need.” As the city lights shimmered, a dangerous thought took root in Ava’s heartone that would fire everything that followed. *One night to run, one night to burn.*

His eyes shifted to Zain approaching… His life flashed before him—not because he was dying but because the fear of defeat felt like death. And then—Abby’s voice echoed in his memory,"Let your fire burn brightly! Let it roar. Let it rage. Let it burn so fiercely that even the heavens themselves are forced to recognize your existence. Let it burn until there is nothing left to refine—until you have forged yourself into something unbreakable. Let that fire become your strength, your path, your very identity!” The words looped in his mind, again and again—colliding, crashing, erupting. They collided, clashing inside him like sparks.