Flame Of Passion Novels & Stories

When they were almost to the pack house, I used my Green Flames to control the earth to stop them. A Phoenix is born with a specific fire, The Red Flame is the most common The Orange Flame is for healing The Purple Flame is for turning back and accelerating time for a living being The Pink Flame is for telepathy, empathy, and telekinesis Finally, the Blue Flame, is the most lethal, it is as cold as ice but burns like fire. Each flame could burn, but not at the same intensity depending on which flame it is, each having its specific properties. I was born with what we call the Rainbow Flames, it is a Flame created from each of the Flames, I can use them individually or simultaneously. It was h

It was a moment of raw honesty and unspoken promises. As our lips met in a tender kiss, the flames of our love were reignited with an intensity that took our breath away. It was a passionate embrace that spoke of longing, longing that had endured the test of time and separation. In that single, electrifying moment, we knew that our love was worth fighting for, that it was a flame that could never truly be extinguished.

She was hoping for him to say something, but he never did. "I guess you're right," Ahankara smiled back, before sighing. "That's just how fate works." She looked at Yashvir with tender eyes and a soft smile. "Flames, no matter how dangerous, always seem to be drawn towards roses." - - - - - -

Wanting to hold this moment forever. She lifted her head and stared into eyes that smoldered with black flames of passion, so intense she trembled as the carnal fire licked through her veins. She burned deep inside, forever branded by his passion, her skin so sensitized that the slight abrasion of his fingers stroking her quivering body was sweet torture. They had made love every way imaginable, but never with this explosive passion. Never this intense and consuming. Never so powerful that she actually thought if she died now, she would die blissfully happy.

The thought of giving the flame exactly what it wants , makes the butterflies in her fly much more chaotic than before. Then…she enters the flame. It hurts much more than she had imagined it would , but does she love it? Yes, she does. She feeds of the exotic emotions she feels while the fire eats at her wings. She relishes the exotic emotions – the frisson – she feels when the fire takes controls of her lowly life. This excitement – it makes her life less boring , less dull. It brightens up her dull existence , with a life span that ends quickly. So with every passing second , she tries to memorize this feeling. She tries to capture this moment in her head , so that she may revisit it whene

But before they could even approach us, I set a large fire around us. "Fhyra! What are you doing?! Argh!" Cool said and grunted when he got burned when he grabbed and touch my shoulders. "Don't touch me! You'll get burned!" I yelled at him. The guards were trying to extinguish the fire I made. But they can't. Although all Flamias had the ability to control fire, a normal flamia like them can't compare to the royal blood's abilities. Not to mention that I made these fire barriers with rage.

“Now… shape it. Think of it as a flame in your hand. Small enough to hold, steady enough not to burn you.” Her brow furrowed. Sweat broke across her temples. She pictured it small, contained, a flicker of light cupped between her palms. And to her shock, she felt it: heat gathering, real and alive. When she opened her eyes, a soft flame danced just above her skin, glowing gold and red. Her breath caught. “Aiden…” His gaze softened with pride, though he didn’t move closer. “You’re doing it. Hold it steady.” The flame quivered with her excitement, threatening to lash out, but she steadied her breath, focusing on the rhythm of his heartbeat she knew so well. Slowly, the flame calmed. It burned,

When I walked out of the doctor's office with my test results, the hospital's advertisement screen played the scene of Brandon proposing to me. Under a dazzling starry sky, deep blue fireworks lit up the night. He wore a white suit and kneeled in a rose garden, opening a box with a diamond ring inside. The scene was so beautiful that it looked like something straight out of a romance drama. I overheard some patients' family members chatting with a nurse. "I'm really so jealous of Ms. Pace. Meeting a man like Mr. Foster is the luck of eight lifetimes."

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’

The car tore down the road, skimming the asphalt as its taillights carved a red streak through the night. By the time Salvatore reached home, the outer walls of the third floor were charred black, and thick smoke churned from a narrow window. He moved before he could think, charging straight toward the flames. However, two of his men grabbed him. "Don Russo, you can't go in there! The fire's not out yet!" But he shoved them aside, his eyes wild with fury. "Useless bastards! If you won't save Arianna, then I will!"