Fiery Hair Novels & Stories

She continued to feel the effects as it surges throughout her body, reminded Anberine of an inferno burning everything in its path without any care of what stood in its way. This resulted in her mood becoming more sour than ever in knowing who caused her unwelcomed emotions. Huffing angrily as she stared at herself in the mirror, Anberine could see that the natural light catch her hair. This in turn made it look as if her hair had actually become a living flame, confusing and worrying Anberine until she placed her nervous fingers on to her fiery red hair. Feeling soft cool tresses instead of burning locks of hair that could have burned her skin upon touching it.

He said that we were surprised. "What does my hair have to do with being a holder?" Soliel asked Ate Adhira. "Don't you know? Haha that's how it is. All holds have a corresponding hair color, such as green for Wind holders, blue for water holders, red for fire holders, brown for Earth holders, black for dark holders, and white for light holders, then whatever hold is destined for you will be the color of your hair." This explanation impressed me because I just realized it, but when I looked at the others...

“Good grief.” Rising, Caitlyn took a step towards the windows and stretched her back, yawning. “Thick hair. Thin hair. Curly hair. Straight hair. Long hair. Short hair. No hair. Brown. Blond. Black. Red. Who cares this much about hair?” she groaned. “I just want someone I can talk to and appreciate Italy with for sixteen days. How can the rest of this stuff possibly matter?”

’ She shook her head. "Do you know, then, how your hair catches fire in the sunlight coming in through the window behind you?" That oh, so silky-spoken observation flared her hair around her face as she spun around. "For goodness’ sake, will you stop playing this crazy game now?" she shrilled out.

I went and built the fire, letting her quietly arrange her peculiar array of items. When the fire reached a peak, I saw opposite her. The orange n flames danced between us, my face burning with the intense heat. "Hmm, it's funny how your hair almost matches those flames," she murmured, cocking her head to the side. "That's not your way of telling me I'm going to die in a pit of fire is it?"

It’s the hair that grows out of my scalp! God gave you your hair, and God gave me mine! It’s mine! And I’m proud of it! You don’t have the right to tell me to hide my hair, just because your hair comes out of your scalp straight, doesn’t make it any better than mine, which comes out of my scalp curly!”

And on Bitsy’s portion, disgust. She’d caught his take note right off—a red hot small Faerie with spiky hair, awe-inspiring chest and hips, and dim, expressive eyes lit by a guarantee for retaliation. There was no fear in those eyes. Not for the soul suckers. Not for him. Not for his pack.

I wanted to be consumed in the fire without being consumed by the fire! How foolish I was to be excited. The first sign of my powerlessness was the colour of my hair. My hair was supposed to be strawberry coloured so that my wolf fur would be the same, but here I was flaunting my caramel-coloured hair, still, I kept my hope alive, hoping my wolf fur would be strawberry. Other wolves' first shifts were filled with awes and mixed feelings, but mine was filled with anger, grief and hatred. It was one of the worst moments I had.

My gaze moves over her dark red hair which looks fiery and untouchable in the streetlights and, without thinking, I reach out and caress a lock between my fingers. Finley stiffens and my gaze meets hers. "I've never seen hair this color before," I say in a low voice. "It's beautiful." I can't help but notice the way her chest begins to rise and fall faster. I think mine is doing the same thing. "Thank you. Guess it's an Irish thing," she finally forces out.

His face was handsome and his red hair was dancing in the wind like a fire, full of power. Flaming Qilin. All the people present were pale with fear.