Novel & Cerita Flames Novel

Prologue II: Pyre, 3113 Pyre Av 5, 3113 Stephan Caliphus, King Everything was on fire the night he finished the book in the back room of a borrowed house. He laid his glasses down on the desk in front of him and rubbed his tired eyes. The crackling of flames could be heard as the city burned all around them. The blood curdling screams of the men in the streets where they died was enough to make the blood of the fiercest warrior run cold, but he was a man of empathy and it hurt him more than it did the others.

“He feeds on your fear and doubt. You must banish both.” I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, diving inward to the part of me that still believed, still hoped. The memories of my father’s kindness, my mother’s gentle touch, the fierce loyalty of my pack—they all became fuel for the Flame. It flared brighter, swirling around my arms and chest like liquid fire. Nytheras roared, a sound that shook the very foundation of this place, and surged toward me. I barely had time to react, feeling the icy chill of his claws grazing my skin before I unleashed the Flame in a blinding wave.

Three former friends known as three flames that burnt so bright that they could shine even the darkest places. Forbidden love is not something knew to all of them because they've all disobeyed so many rules to get their happiness but instead they got tradegy. To see what exactly is going on they must go back to the past. Where they were three different people from what they actually are now. *** Prologue The night was young, full of endless opportunities of where it could lead Sire. He wished nothing more than to feel the gentle breeze of the wind blow his hair into a mess his mother would obviously scold him for when he got back home.

He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he drew close, the sting of the saltwater in his eyes as the droplets caught in his eyelashes on their passage down to his cheeks. “There is no pain,” she was as shocked by the development as he was. “The flames do not burn me.” He reached out carefully but could not touch the flames. They burnt as hot as dragon flame. “They do not burn me, but I can feel their heat,” he told her. “Flaming wings… That was… not what I expected.” “Me either,” she looked at him wild-eyed. “Do you suppose that I could…” “Yes,” he followed her gaze when she looked skywards. “Do it, Ember.”

“You’re building something beautiful. I’m proud of you. Just never forget that at the end of every day, you’re mine.” Elena smiled against his chest. “I won’t. But I also need you to let me fly a little on my own.” The “independent flames” chapter of their life had begun. It was messy, addictive, and full of both passion and compromise. And Elena was discovering that she could have both — her own light and his consuming fire — without one extinguishing the other. The empire still demanded much of Damian. Her business was growing. Their love was deepening. And the flame between them continued to burn brighter with every challenge they faced together.

*You are part of me. Her breath hitched. Then— “Was?” The Flame shifted. Not weakening. Not fading. But changing. *You chose to become more.* Confusion flickered through her. “What does that mean?” And the world answered. --- The light fractured again. But this time— She understood what she was seeing. The Flame. Whole. Complete. Perfect in its singularity. And then— A choice. Not forced. Not violent. Intentional. The Flame splitting itself. Not out of destruction—

👀 🔥 Court of Fire - Passion, rage, destruction, rebirth Lady Maelira Volarix - wild red hair, temper hotter than dragon breath, rumored pyromancer Lord Cassian Volarix - sharp jaw, sharper wit, plays politics like chess, fire dances in his palms 🌊 Court of Water - Emotion, healing, secrets, drowning beauty Lady Nymira Crestvale - stunning and silent, her tears are said to hold memories Lord Sylien Crestvale - high-born snob with ocean eyes, calm exterior, hides many betrayals

I flipped the thing on and the flames danced in front of my eyes. And then, I threw it onto the pyre. The fire caught instantly., like it had been waiting. Like it was alive and heard his final wish. It roared like a beast on a mission; staking claim, licking. Unforgiving. The scream that followed was not human. It was beastly. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t back down. I stood there, watching as the first flames licked the reddened skin, turning it plump and sore. The flames danced in my eyes and I stood there, listening to the screams as they filled the air. That unmistakable awareness washed over my back, and I knew. She was watching me.

Her eyes briefly met the young girl next to Jasper, her eyes wide and innocent, then flickering with unease as she watched them. The girl gripped Jasper's arm, her fingers showing no sign of letting go. Gone was the shame of being the other woman she had felt the night before. She clung to him like a delicate flower in need of protection. Elaine saw a ghost of her past self in her. She had been that girl once. As Elaine made to leave, Lucy caught her eye, a taunting smile playing on her lips, and she subtly gestured to her neck. Elaine's gaze followed, taking in the pale, soft skin marred by a patchwork of love bites—the unmistakable signs of passionate affection.

But when he looked up, hundreds of other books were lifting and floating from the shelves, their pages bleeding and whispering her name. “Camela. Camela. Camela.” Her head spun, and her chest rose and fell heavily. “They want me…” Vincent held her tightly against him, his flame blazing so bright enough it illuminated the shelves like daylight. “Then they’ll have to burn for it,” he said. He swung his arm through the air, sending fire in a blazing arc that struck the shelves. The books shrieked, blood hissed, and their pages curled black, turning ash. But for every book that he burned, ten more emerged from the shadows. They surged forward, bleeding words that crawled across the floor and wra