Flame Hashira Death Novels & Stories

Aryn's journey begins with the gift of strange and life-altering book. Aptly titled 'Rules of Death' it doesn't stop with the exposure of her own identity. The book holds knowledge and power Aryn can only begin to understand.

Eighteen was supposed to be fun. I was supposed to lose my virginity to the boy of my dreams….but instead, he’s dead. And it’s my fault. Now I’m being dragged to Ravenside Academy, home to the Elite—the four clans who rule this world in shadows. The werewolves, who think themselves kings of the wild. The witches, guardians of nature’s fragile balance. The vampires, as cruel as they are beautiful. And the dragon riders, who believe they’re gods among us. And let’s not even talk about the hybrid. I thought I was ordinary. Human. Powerless. But Ravenside has other plans for me….and so does he. The one boy I should never want. The one whose fire burns hotter than anyone else’s. The one who might just be my ruin or my salvation.

Love was never supposed to be this dangerous for Valerie Lawson. Born into wealth and groomed to carry the legacy of her mother who built one of the largest companies in the country she became a force of power. She was the woman everyone admired. The woman every man feared to approach. From the polished floors of luxury board rooms to the flashing headlights of black tinted convoys Valerie lived in a world where she controlled every situation at the snap of a finger. But beneath that perfect exterior there was a secret she buried deep inside. A secret that shaped the entire path of her life and turned her heart into a guarded fortress. Her family portrait had once been perfect. A loving mother. Two beautiful twin daughters. But darkness crept into their home the moment her father allowed insecurity to corrupt his soul. Instead of valuing his successful wife, he resented her. He felt small watching her empire rise. He felt like a guest in a palace built with her brilliance. Not having control, he sought validation elsewhere. He brought another woman into their home. planned it like a secret meeting but fate rarely allows betrayal to stay hidden. That day when Valerie and her twin sister were supposed to be in school tragedy struck. Vera fainted and her mother rushed to pick her up refusing to call her husband because a small voice in her heart whispered that he should not be trusted. After treating her daughter she returned home quietly hoping to surprise her husband with good news about their little girl. Instead she walked into a horrifying betrayal. Her husband was in their marital bed with a strange woman. The scene shattered her soul. She demanded a divorce and vowed to take her daughters along.

Agatha Ignacio, the woman who does not have her own decisions in life. Submissive to my husband, Dymon Ignacio- the man I was forced to marry, as payment for my parents' debt. No matter how hard I tried to love Dymon, I couldn't. It's hard to force love on someone who I will never like because of his bad attitude. Joseph Ignacio, the real son of Don Jose Ignacio. Grew up in another country, because his parents were separated. So when Joseph was still young his Mommy took him to New York. While Don Jose adopted so that everyone would recognize that this is his son. But Joseph's sudden arrival at the mansion. Even the Don was surprised by the son's sudden return home. Can Agatha survive the hands of her abusive husband? What if the exchange of saving Joseph is Agatha's love? How will they fight the relationship that the only one who has the right is Dymon?

In the fifth year of my marriage, I died in my sleep. However, I was born with a strange ability. Every time I died, I would come back to life at the exact moment before my last death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at 11:11 p.m. on the night I died. Unable to find the killer, I became trapped in an endless loop. The second time, I stayed up all night trying to catch whoever was behind it, but found nothing. The moment I let my guard down during the day and closed my eyes, I died instantly. The third time, I refused to believe it and had my husband, Emmett Berkeley, lock the bedroom and seal the windows. I still died the next day. The fourth time, I stayed alone in the bedroom, forcing myself to stay awake for three days straight to find the killer. By the third day, I couldn’t hold on any longer. My vision went black, and I died again. By the fifth time, I had gone insane. Right in front of Emmett, I grinned and hacked something to death. Blood splattered across the entire wall. Looking at Emmett trembling in the corner, I licked the blood from my lips and smiled faintly. "Honey, don’t you love me? Help me take the fall, okay?" The man who used to love me deeply pointed at me in horror, screaming, "Y-you found out… You knew, didn’t you…?"

Rhaenyx Maltalor, an assassin of the Henla guild is captured and her identity changed. In exchange for her freedom and pardon for her crimes, she must work with a competing guild to overthrow the monarchy. Will she find love in the man that changed her face? Or in the princess who works to restore peace to the kingdom? Will her skills be up for the challenges she faces, or will her arrogance be her downfall.

He wanted a contract. She gave him a lap dance. Kessie Croft is the mystery Alpha men crave but can never touch—an Omega in disguise, dancing as a stripper under the moonlight club to keep her secrets safe. Arlo Arithon is a ruthless Alpha, too cold for love, too powerful to be denied. But the moment she straddles his lap at the Den, the air burns, and fate howls. Neither knows their pasts are tangled in blood and tragedy. Neither expects their wolves to recognize the truth and when the truth explodes, it’s not just their hearts on the line—it’s their packs, their power, and their souls.

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

With a bag of vegetables gifted by the previous tenant in hand, I was on my way to collect rent from the third household when I unexpectedly ran into someone at the entrance of the community. The man frowned, his eyes fixed on the vegetables I carried, as though he couldn't fathom how I had ended up like this after leaving him. Following his gaze, I instinctively shifted the vegetables behind my back. My eyes dropped to the muddy water on the pavement, and I never would have imagined bumping into my ex-boyfriend—the one who had grown up with a silver spoon—in this aging neighborhood. He noticed my movement, and for a moment, something flickered in his expression: a mix of pity and recognition. "Since you've already learned your lesson," he said, "come back with me." At his words, I instinctively stepped back half a pace. "Who said I'm going back with you?" My rejection seemed to sting, darkening his face. "I know you're still blaming me for giving Rachel a child," he muttered, "but it's been three years. Isn't it time to stop? As long as you come back, we can be the same as before." Three years, huh? How quickly time had passed. Thinking of my little girl at home, still babbling her first words, I couldn't help but smile and shake my head. "Let's leave it at that. Go home and live your life with Rachel. My daughter's waiting for me to go back and make her food."