Burning Charm Novels & Stories

He almost seemed to hesitate. Seeing this, Isabella grabbed a cigar from the table. Before Damien could move, she shoved the glowing tip of the cigar into the back of my hand. The sick-sweet smell of my own burning flesh filled the air. I gasped, instinctively trying to pull my hand back. But Isabella was faster. She cried out first, pointing at her own slightly red fingers. "Ouch, it's hot! I was just offering her a cigar and she pushed me." "Enough!" Damien finally snapped.

She had already slashed one considerably. I moved towards the dealer but his eyes were fixed… not on me but on Mara, his mouth opened in a chant that seemed to burn the air. “Mara! Get DOWN!” I roared, just as the spell ignited. He flung the charm forward, it had a sickly smell and a purple colored light going towards Mara.

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."

For example, there was the powerful Lightning Strike Charm that would release lightning energy to kill the enemy. If the user was powerful enough, it would be powerful enough to blast a grandmaster into crumbs. However, Poison Pop followed a certain pattern in his killing too. The number of charms used to suppress strong energy and for attacks, such as the Fireslurp Charm, Lightning Melt Charm, and Lightshrink Charm, were higher in comparison. “Huh?” All of a sudden, Kayson saw a charm that looked different from the rest. It was filled with complicated-looking runes, and he could see a magic circle drawn on the paper.

Charmaine is a slut, she is desperate to where she will do anything to get a man, that includes giving them sexual flavors. I don’t care I will make it my mission to get Harlem on my side, I cannot help but to feel attraction towards him. I need excitement in my life, I see Harlem being a bad boy. I need that bad boy to fuck me so hard that I will scream his name, thinking about him got me arouse with lust.

The charm let out a bright burst of moonlight that engulfed the rebel leader. The wolf howled in pain so loudly that it could be heard for miles. His body broke apart into stardust, which was blown around by the wind. When the other rogues saw their boss die, they ran off into the night with their tails between their legs. Ethan and Amelia stood still and took deep breaths as the sounds of the fight faded away. Ethan wore the charm around his neck, and its glow slowly went out. Amelia looked at him with awe in her eyes. "It's done, Ethan. You used the power of the charm."

"Carry her like a princess! Lock them in the dark room—don't come out for an hour! Hope you two finally make your dream come true!" Then some random girl chimed in, all snarky: "Who's 1874? Some insurance guy? Ugh, hang up." Click. End of call. Pain punched me in the chest. She saved me as '1874'—just the last four digits of my number. Meanwhile, my phone screen still flashed "Sweetheart." God, what a joke. I had work to finish, thought about staying late—but I couldn't focus. So I headed home.

“She almost drowned. The necklace is burning her. I don’t think this is a good idea.” The witch blinked at me with those rheumy eyes that felt like so much more than two. “The charm does what the charm must,” she said. “If the girl insists on tearing it off, throwing it away, fighting it, then the charm will cling to her harder.” She clicked her tongue. “That’s not my fault, Alpha. That’s hers. And it’s your fault, too, for not making her understand.”

I ducked behind a pillar, every nerve strung tight as I watched them through the gaps. She was saying something about “blessing the womb” and how “only fresh blood and clove should be inside the charm.” I knew those things. I had seen a girl lose her mind after using one—vomiting in corners, seeing dead people. That charm wasn’t just powder and hope. Olga had touched it.

“I used an anti-burn charm and everything.” Reaching out with my magic, I grazed against the barrier of her anti-burn charm, and bit back a snort at the irony. It was a weak ass charm. The sun truly did hate her. Using my own reserves, I gave her charm a boost and laughed when she jumped an inch off the ground. “Did you just zap my ass?”