Fire Fist Novels & Stories

Rose was listening to the teacher who was teaching them trigonometry, she already knows it but she is using it to distract herself from the two lovebirds sitting beside her, she wish her mate accept her, she made up her mind to go see him after the class and ask why he doesn't want her and then she will accept the rejection but suddenly she was starting to feel uncomfortable again in her seat, all she could feel all over her body was a burning sensation, she is feeling a great pain all over her body and she kept shifting in her seat, everything was starting to get blurry she tried to mind link someone cause she could not talk even to call the lovers beside her but she was too weak to do so.

I’m hoping that it won’t come to that, but anger is the easiest way to get someone to connect to fire. “Okay, what do I do?” he asks. “Do you trust me?” I ask him. “Absolutely,” he says, not hesitating a moment. I smile. "Close your eyes." He immediately closes his eyes. I’m hoping passion is the way to get him to connect. It's another great way to connect to fire, so I start there. I pull an image of him and me in my mind. As I walk toward him, I begin to slowly unbutton my shirt, letting it drop to the ground.

His jaw was clenched, his breathing controlled, but his eyes flicked to Elise again and again. “Fall back ten steps!” he shouted. “Do not let them surround us!” They obeyed, retreating in tight formation. Elise covered them, her power flaring brighter with every strike. Crescent fire wrapped around her arms now, burning hot enough that the air around her shimmered. The forest caught fire. It started with one tree struck by stray moonfire. Then another as ferals slammed into blazing shields. Dry leaves ignited, flames racing up trunks, smoke billowing thick and black into the sky.

I took the torch, feeling its threatening heat, and began to spread the fire around the Cabin. The flames came to life, consuming the wood with insatiable voracity. My heart raced as the flames grew, becoming a fiery metaphor for my determination to eliminate any obstacle between me, Hunter, and our future child. The crackling of the flames echoed in the forest's quiet, but my mind was focused on making a decision that would change the course of things in the pack. The fire was my answer, an action rooted in the conviction that Fierce should no longer cast a shadow over our destiny.

he hissed, bending his head closer. "Wrong move," I growled, shooting my hand up to grasp his wrist, channeling intense heat into his bones. "Now!" I yelled at my dad as I dropped the walls, forcing the last of my fire's reserves into the man's bloodstream. I let my own power surge into him at the same time, stealing what remained of his life while the fire literally cooked him from the inside.

The woman on the ship shouted angrily upon hearing Long Chen's words. "Kid! You are so arrogant. Prepare to die because you refuse to kill yourself in front of me!" The fire sect elder said angrily. "You guys are too noisy! If you want to come forward, then come forward, if you want to kill, then just kill! Why do you have to talk so much like little children?" Long Chen said sarcastically to all of them. "Damn it! Mountain fire fist!" The sect elder unleashed his technique. "Ha! Fire fist?" Long Chen sighed when he saw the fire fist from the fire sect elder's attack.

No mercy. Only fire.

Sweat slicks my temples, and my shirt, damp with perspiration, glues to my torso. The heat surges again, and I concentrate hard, trying to picture the fire taking form. I lift one hand and snap my fingers. A flame bursts to life, small but vivid, dancing at my fingertips. It flickers continuously until it fades, but the triumphant smile stays on my lips. For the first time in my life, I have summoned and controlled a flame.

The marsh beyond the hollow walls stirred as if holding its breath. She felt everything. Rowan’s fury. Lucien’s hunger. Her own rising storm. She lifted her hands—fire and frost blazing in perfect symmetry. The marsh answered. Roots erupted through the floor in long, twisting spears. Fire burst from her palms in a column of gold, but frost intertwined with it—blue-white veins snapping through the flames like ice lightning. Wolves howled as frost sealed their paws to the stone, while the fire seared the air around them.

“Then you might actually deserve it.” Fire is Not a Weapon—It’s a Will That night, the new and old Keepers sat around a rekindled memory flame. Not for light. Not for heat. But for clarity. Atheira told them of what came before: The First Fire was never meant for war. It was memory incarnate. The flame chose hosts not to wield it, but to record. Those who twisted it into weaponry fractured its nature—and fractured the world. Kael’s jaw tensed. “Then we’re all just scribes in someone else’s story?”