Butterfly 4 Novels & Stories

Her voice was small and barely a whisper – the temptation to close her eyes and start her slumber was like a siren’s call for her. Upon her command, a flock of black butterflies immerged from the darkness of her room. They heed their master’s command and from the accumulated shadow within the flock, a floating egg was seen. It was placed under their master’s arms as if she was curling around it – protecting it. With the command being delivered, the flock of Slaughter butterflies entered Cent’s shadow, waiting to be called again – the taste of angel flesh still lingering their predatory instincts.

It took a moment for the sun to shine through the canopy of butterflies, casting a kaleidoscope of dazzling colors into the air. The delicate creatures fluttered their wings in unison, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and movement. Each wing was adorned with intricate patterns and vibrant hues. As they took flight, the colors mixed and merged, creating a beautiful symphony for the eyes to behold. It was like witnessing a burst of confetti, but more magical. Darren’s hand put pressure on my waist as he led me forward. With each step, hundreds of butterflies erupted and took to the skies. The ground was covered in colorful flowers that had a sweet scent. It must have been a super attracta

I breathed, pointing with a trembling finger. His eyes widened. "Are those...butterflies? Glowing butterflies?" We moved closer, enchanted by the ethereal sight. A whole cloud of them hovered in a small glade, their wings shimmering with every color of the rainbow. They seemed to pulse and swirl in hypnotic patterns, drawing us in like moths to a flame. Connor reached out a wondering hand, his eyes wide open with awe. The butterflies swirled around him eagerly, touching on his hair, his shoulders, his outstretched fingers. He laughed with childlike delight.

The sound of that strange name drew my attention back to the group and what I saw next was nothing short of wondrous. Little Leah was still in Luna Malaya's arms with Sarah and Julian right next to them, looking at Freya in wonder. And then there was Freya, who had been the person to utter those strange butterflies. Her hand was raised towards the baby's face and suddenly, a bright blue smoke formed in her hands and as it rose, out came a beautiful blue butterfly, larger than any normal butterfly I had ever seen. A glittery dust came out of its wings that shore like diamonds in the light and it rose even higher, leaving behind a trail of glitter dust in its wave.

It was simple but had a sense of mystery, with only a butterfly logo on the surface. Wait a minute. A butterfly? Everly's heart skipped a beat. She quickly turned to Millie and asked, "Mils, is this… Butterfly's Winter's Embrace?"

“We’d be able to tell if you were. You don’t smell like a dragon.” I don’t know why, but his words relive me. The thought of turning into a large fire breathing lizard scares the crap out of me. Actually, the thought of turning into any kind of animal scares the crap out of me. “I don’t want people to think I’m a slut,” I murmur. “What can I do? Am I supposed to… choose one of them?” My heart hurts as I speak the words. “No.” Margot shakes her head and smiles gently. “Fate gave you four mates for a reason. We have no way of know that reason right now, but it’s important you stay with all four guys.”

A butterfly with its red wings flew into the territory of Waltz Castle. It kept flapping its wings towards the pavilion it was in. Then perched on the vines that filled the wall. The butterfly was silent there, enjoying the breeze that slightly shook its wings. But when this butterfly heard the sound of falling leaves, this butterfly instantly flapped its wings again, flying towards the roof of the pavilion. Through a small gap that was only fit for it, this butterfly flew into the pavilion. It was very dark inside, only the light from the slit roofs shone in there. This butterfly kept flying and perched on the hand of a man sleeping there.

Chloe announced to her assembled classmates, "we are going to learn about the life cycle of the painted lady butterfly. Anya, please distribute the coloring sheets." Anya handed out the pages with the efficiency of a seasoned assistant. "I colored mine already. I used purple." "Butterflies aren't purple," one of the boys protested. "Some butterflies are purple," Chloe said firmly. "The purple emperor butterfly is native to Europe and parts of Asia. It's very rare." "How do you know that?" "I read books. You should try it sometime."

If anything, he presses deeper, adding a third finger, stretching me in that delicious way that makes my breath hitch. “Ahh–fuck Dante, it’s so f-full” “Easy, butterfly,” he murmurs, soothing. “I’ve got you. Just feel. I’ve waited too long to rush this.”

“It’s a umbrella for you. Butterfly wings are big enough to keep out the rain.” Jenny took the piece of paper in her hands. The paper made a “rustling” sound as it moved between her fingers. The crayon colors left marks on her fingerprints—pink, blue, brown, green—standing out sharply against her pale skin. She looked down at the butterfly. Its wings were pink, with asymmetrical patterns: three dots on the left wing and two on the right. The butterfly’s body was brown, and its antennae were blue, bending to form two question-mark-shaped arcs on the paper.