Flamberge Kirby Novels & Stories

Shame this was evening happening to me. Unfortunatly, Damon moved to stand beside Ethan. “These are Twisted Blade push daggers. A tri-edge blade that spirals. Also known as a cyclone blade. They insure maximum damage with little effort. When used correctly, it will increase our killing effectiveness by 10%. Your opposite will bleed out before their wolf will be able to heal them.”

A smoke bomb crashed through the stained-glass window above, bursting in a plume of thick, choking vapor. A figure dropped into the chaos—twin daggers gleaming, a flash of silver hair and blazing eyes. Kira. The rogue assassin and once-loyal Ironfang scout who’d vanished months ago during the border raids. “Lyra, move!” Kira screamed. Lyra didn’t hesitate. She sprinted toward her old friend as guards lunged at them, swords drawn. They clashed in the mist—blades flashing, fists cracking bone. Kira moved like liquid fire, a blur of deadly precision.

Like when you check to see if someone who ruined your life is still breathing. And he was. Oh boy, he was. Standing there in his signature crisp shirt with his sleeves rolled just above the elbow—because of course he had to show off those brooding forearms like they were part of the curriculum. His hair looked like he’d lost a fight with sleep and won anyway. And his face… well. Still sinfully unreadable. Sharp jaw. Quiet fury. Those glacier-blue eyes that looked like they could undress your soul and bury it under literary metaphors.

The person stuttered, "M-Mr. Zalmer… are you saying D-Dr. Zal—Winifred—is your daughter?" Serena ignored the crowd and moved the cursor to play the surveillance footage. In it, I wore a white laboratory coat and wore a surgical mask as I meticulously worked on an experiment. Everything seemed normal. Just then, the glass beaker before me caught on fire without warning. Flames soon shot to the sky as a thick plume of smoke came from the beaker. Upon seeing that, Raiden pointed at the screen and exclaimed, "There! Winifred, you must've done something wrong. Don't worry, though. I can endure your punishment on your behalf!"

Cleopatra hissed, looking at her bandage arm. "Well you got to be with Rexton... So did you two f**k?" Cheetah asked. "He's playing the hard to get card. Trust me one of these days, I'm gonna ride that d*ck" Cleopatra licked her lips. Cheetah chuckled and they sat down.. Next who came in was Flame with Cisco behind her. "C'mon s*xy, won't you tell me your name? Huh?" Cisco said but Flame ignored him Flame is the newest recruit of Aurelio's unit. Her and Cisco are both specialized in arm combats like karate and Taekwondo.

Liam. The door swung open, and Liam filled the frame, a cascade of dark curls framing a grin that could melt glaciers. His eyes, the colour of a stormy sea, crinkled at the corners, alight with mischief and a warmth that seemed to bypass all her carefully constructed defenses. He was taller now, broader, the boyish angles of his youth smoothed into a more potent, masculine line. He carried a worn duffel bag slung over one shoulder, a testament to his perpetually on-the-go lifestyle."Mitchell!" His voice, a low rumble that vibrated deep in her chest, was laced with genuine delight. He swept her into a hug, a strong, confident embrace that felt both familiar and thrillingly new. The scent of s

The word was hard and I trailed my fingers over him, knowing these symbols sometimes meant there was a thick scar which has been covered but somehow, I was still fascinated by every one of them. Maybe because I already knew he was far from been a good boy because it was obviously a gunshot scar but the tattoo was a burning flame. “Tell me what one means.” “No.” I couldn’t stop touching him not only because he was hands-down the sexiest man I’d ever seen but because he was the most fascinating cold-mannered professional on the outside, and a dirty-playing criminal below the surface. I wrapped my hand around the flame tattoo on his arm. “This one, please tell me what this one means and then I’

Grabbing my hand and spreading my fingers with his. “So, ‘F’ stands for Friend.” He said flexing my thumb towards the inside of my palm. “Hmhm…” I hummed. “L for Love.” This time he flexed my index finger. “A for affection.” He went to my middle finger. I was watching him quietly as he bent my fingers one by one almost making them a fist. “E denotes Enemy,” he said flexing my pinky after skipping a finger. “What? I am your enemy?” I asked him pouting.

I was unhinged. Clarice called out our sparring partners, and I was delighted to be paired with a massive wolf named Wyatt. Wyatt had a reputation for being ruthless. He was built like a brick wall, tall and muscular, and his path to being a warrior was spelled out before him. He took training incredibly seriously, and what he lacked in speed he made up for in sheer strength and power. On any other day I would have paled to be matched with him, would have preemtively felt the bruises swell on my body. Today I was coursing with anger and ready for the fight.