Fire In His Blood Novels & Stories

He inhaled sharply, committing the scent of her skin to his ancient memory ledger. "You're burning," Valarian whispered, his gravelly baritone rough, completely broken by the sheer intoxicating weight of her presence. His hands slid up her ribs, his thumbs tracing the soft line of her jaw, forcing her to look up into his silver eyes. In the dim torchlight, his irises were no longer a calm, cool metal—they had darkened into a deep, consuming obsidian, flashing with a volatile, predatory light. "I told myself a hundred times that I would keep away. I told myself I would protect you from what I am. But you... you're a fire, Kiarra. And I am completely done trying to survive the winter without y

Henry*** The sky bled fire—crimson tendrils streaking across the heavens like the last breath of a dying god. Smoke coiled in black spirals, choking out the stars, and in the glow of that apocalyptic dawn, the world trembled. Buildings burned like paper. Trees split open, screaming with sap and flame. It was as if the sky itself had turned traitor—spilling fury upon a land already drowning in sorrow.

“Please. Not like this.” “But you are bleeding!” My voice trembles. “SO YOU ARE!” He yells, shaking every object in the room. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. “Your blood is tempting me. I don’t want to harm you. Please. I love you. Please listen to me.” “Will you really harm me?”

" I forced myself to look away from her breathtaking body and focus on the hand she had outstretched to me and then raised my eyes to meet her gaze, which held no trace of her smile. Her eyes tell a tale opposite the proper, posh princess she was trying to portray. Her eyes, a beautiful shade of emerald with brown honey flakes, told the truth. They radiated hatred, anger, and anguish. They showed shimmers of the need for an adventure, the hope for a new beginning, and when my gaze fully met hers, they showed a flicker of desire, of want. They lit a flame deep within me, an inferno that only she would be able to extinguish if I let her close enough. "Hades," I reply, ignoring her outstretched

I ask him. “Let’s first have you checked out before I call her. I’ll call your doctors to first make sure you’re fine.” he tells me I sigh and nod. I knew better than to argue with my big brother. “What happened to me?” I ask him. “You got hurt in a fire.” He tells me. He presses a button by my bed. “You got anything for the pounding in my head?” I ask him. Damon looks at me. “What does it feel like?” he asks coming closer. He takes a pen out of his pocket. When he holds it up to my face, I realise it’s like a flashlight. He shines it in my eyes.

I may not have much but I'd like to keep a hold on my dignity. I kick a small pebble that skitters into the darkness of the pavement as I walk down, I hear festive sounds coming from the pub at the end of this street but I ignore it. No use hoping to have something you never will. Even though I have magical blood, I'm a fire slifer. I have no clue how to harness my power so it's basically useless. I've only had one or two incidents of nearly burning a house down but other than that I feel basically human.

He started, “it’s not true even though she’s hard on you.” “I know she’s just tired of me lighting things on fire.” I sighed. “She’s going to be so proud of you and what you can do now” he said. “Thanks for coming” I smiled. “We need answers. But for now, I am going to bed” he said “I am beat from driving today.” I put out the fire and follow him inside. I lay down and continue to read the second journal. I am about halfway through when I come across a page that is titled “uses for witches' blood.”

The finger I touch will soon turn red. His wolf growled inside him, restless, while his thoughts kept circling the words. Hungry. Fed. Touch turns red. What could it mean? His throat felt tight as he looked at Nia. Her wide, tearful eyes were fixed on the timer tied to her leg. He couldn’t let her die here. Darius’s hands clenched into fists. His thoughts spun faster, the sound of the timer pressing down on him. His chest rose and fell heavily. And then it struck him like a flash in the dark. Fire. Fire was always hungry. Fire always needed to be fed. And if it touched a finger, the skin would burn red.

Lucian’s POV Blood. The smell clung to me like a curse, soaking my skin, coating my tongue. No matter how many battles I’d fought, it never left me. It was worse this time, though. Because Cara had been there. Because the rogue’s claws had nearly touched her. Because if I’d been a heartbeat slower, she would have been torn from me forever. I couldn’t get the image out of my head of her standing there with a jagged branch in her hands, defiant despite her trembling legs. She hadn’t run. She hadn’t screamed. She’d faced down a monster.

"I don't believe in miracles anymore, Ben. I believe in stubbornly refusing to die. There's a difference." "Is there?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Sometimes I think your stubborn refusal to give up is the closest thing to a miracle I've seen since The Burning." The mention of The Burning made my chest tighten, as it always did. The memories were still too fresh, too raw. I could still smell the smoke, hear the screms, see the sky turning that terrible shade of orange as the world caught fire. I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.