Burning Hearts Book Novels & Stories

The whole place was burning, and the tears in my eyes vanished as soon as they hit the air. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming for help. I didn't owe Caleb anything anymore—not in this lifetime. He left with Brianna. I quickly covered my mouth and nose, struggling to hoist Phyllis onto my back. It took everything I had, and my stomach twisted with pain as I tried to keep myself from collapsing. Caleb's child was inside me, and his mother was on my back. I stood there, surrounded by flames, hearing their voices echo in the distance.

Next, the wings of the book were burning, but it didn't stop as it tried to still get away. “If only I hadn't given up my fire powers—it’s going to get away; she will get away!” Ruby yelled, and it was true as the book kept trying, then Blake and Dante finally got to her, and holding their hands, they opened their mouths, and fire came out of them, shooting straight to the book. I could hear the screams of my mother and other creatures; my head was spinning, and I couldn't take it anymore. I was about to fall to the ground, but someone held me back. I looked up and was shocked to see my wife smiling at me.

*** James The sound of my heartbeat hammered in my chest, each beat a violent, relentless thrum that threatened to deafen me as I pushed through the choking smoke. My eyes burned, but they were fixed—locked—on Katniss. There, in the center of the inferno, her body motionless, consumed by flames that seemed to have a mind of their own. The fire wasn’t just destroying the house; it was alive, vicious, almost as if it were taking revenge, as if it had been waiting for this moment. The orange and red tongues of flame reached hungrily, devouring everything they could touch, twisting and flicking in every direction, daring anyone to come close. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was her.

I'll make orders and you'll do them instantly. She was nervous, shocked, and wondered what she had gotten into. Even though she found him attractive, she didn't know it would happen so soon with dominance and power. She wants him as well, and he was irresistibly hot with his bare chest and the black pants he was in, she could see the hardness of his cock from his pants. She quickly moved over to the table where his laptop and books were kept to drop the tray.

Joanne’s POV The burning in my chest spread like wildfire, searing through every vein until I couldn’t tell where the pain ended and I began. The room spun in violent circles; the world narrowed to choking smoke, black edges closing in. I tried to pull myself out of the fire and the rubble it created in its path, but I knocked into something that halted me. I barely managed to glance up in time to see the bookshelf sway, a hulking shadow tilting forward, ready to crush me.

He whispered one word to himself. “Firewall.” Then he walked toward the light. ~~~~~~~~~~ BOOK OF BLOOD — NEW ENTRY “There was never room for love in our world. So we carved it into the spaces between bullets and betrayals.” “We didn’t fall in love. We folded it into the war and dared it to survive.” —Aria

I no longer knew where the dream ended and the nightmare began. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. My breathing was rapid and shallow, as though a heavy weight pressed against my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. Each breath felt like it might be the last. My heart thundered in my ribcage, pounding as if I had been running for miles, and I could feel the blood coursing through my veins, heat radiating, then giving way to a tingling numbness. The air was thick, sticky, almost alive. The ground beneath me felt unstable, as if I were standing on clouds that might give way at any second. I lowered my gaze to my hands—my fingers, my skin—they looked wrong, distant, not entirely mine. Around

I had to believe they were doing it for a good reason. I walk further into the room and see a row of red leather books all along the back wall on shelves. I rip a book from the shelf, flipping through the pages; every spell in here is black magic. I grab another book and another. They are all full of black magic, words of evil, each book darker and darker. I flip to a page that says “removing souls, the patient must endure months of torture to separate the soul from the body.” I stare at the page in disbelief. Is this what they are doing down here?

Her chest felt too tight for her lungs, like her bones were a cage closing in. “Stop it,” she said, backing into the bedpost again. “Stop reading me—stop feeling me—stop whatever you’re doing.” He flinched as if she’d stabbed him a second time. “I’m not doing anything,” he said. “You’re doing it. You’re the one… burning through me.” Burning. That word made something inside her twist violently. Images flashed unbidden—torches in the clearing, his eyes in the dark, her own rage licking up like flame when she’d driven the spear into him.

They can’t hurt what they can’t see. I did not drop it. I raised it. And I looked—not at the chains, not at the monster’s arms—but at its chest. At the place where all those books fused into a roughly rib‑like cage. At the single, massive volume wedged dead center: a heavy, iron‑clasped tome that hadn’t moved once, even when the rest of its body shifted. Its “heart.” “That,” I gasped, pointing with the pen. “Its heart is a locked book—pry it open!”