Fahrenheit 451 Novels & Stories

She used to be haughty, but she was now in an even more terrible state than I was in my past life. After breakfast, I went straight back to my bedroom, turned the air-conditioner to a comfortable temperature, and drifted off for a sweet nap. With no worries about food or heat, I fell asleep quickly. When I woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. My phone said it was already 131 Fahrenheit outside, and everyone was urged to stay indoors. Seriously? Even when I was taking a hot bath, I only ever set the water to around 113 Fahrenheit... I hated the pain.

I was late—dinner had started, and I’d planned it that way, hoping to slip in unnoticed. The oak doors swung open, a servant nodding as I strode past, my tailored suit feeling like armor. I didn’t return the greeting, my mood too dark, my mind still tangled with Lila’s scent, her screams. The dining room’s chandelier cast a warm glow, but the air was thick with tension.

“Careful, St. James. Keep annoying me and I might finally get good enough to roast you.” He leaned in with that maddening grin. “Sweetheart, I’d consider that foreplay.” Caelan walked away muttering something about “lunatics” and “doomed missions.” I stood in the middle of the scorched clearing, flames licking my skin like a second heartbeat and for just a moment, I felt like I could burn down the world. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to. ********