Flandre Scarlet Novels & Stories

She got up and placed the stole on her neck properly and then opened the door. A girl who is one of the hotel staff was there with a big parcel in her hands. "Mr. Sheerazi has sent it for you." That girl said in her French accent with a smile on her face "thank you." she replied and took the parcel and closed the door She opened the parcel and looked inside. It has a wine red colored gown that has a high neck and full sleeves. Typical him she thought.. He even has Sent her matching jewelry and sandals as well.

Yes obviously and nobody can compare her In the "Florence international school" She step forward just then,her hands brought out a flame. Her two hands flaming with fire as she stood goosebumps. "What's wrong with her. What's this? How come her hand is floating with fires. She couldn't understand anything as she tried offing it but it couldn't. It seems permanent to her. Just then,she flick her hand and a little of the fire particles fell off from her hand and landed into one of her make up things and it burnt them immediately. "Just then, Scarlett heard her mother's voice.

She was certain it was a beautiful bond that she had secured for her daughter, more like a fusion as she reminisced on that one cold evening that found Vincent and Vanessa sitting on the floor by the fireplace. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and dead leaves, and he held a deck of cards in his hands, shuffling them with a speed and dexterity that made the cards a blur to even she who watched them. Then he laid them out, gently revealing the silent blend of red and black he had spun. "Watch closely," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I will show you something we used to call la main est plus rapide que l'œil."

The floating ruins above them suddenly cracked violently. The realm itself trembled. Elena stumbled. “What’s happening?” The woman’s expression changed instantly. Fear. “Time is up.” The red sky split open suddenly with a deafening sound. The black ocean below them churned violently. “Elena listen to me carefully,” the woman said urgently while approaching her quickly. “The Francesco bloodline is cursed. And the necklace is waking up again.” The water rose higher instantly. Cold waves crashed around Elena’s legs. “What does that mean?!” Elena shouted desperately.

Scarlett curled on her narrow bunk in the harem, moonlight barely pierced the heavy drapes, casting faint glows on the rows of narrow beds, the air heavy with the scent of lavender and despair, her silver hair spilling over the coarse pillow, her body wracked with sobs that shook her bandaged shoulder and side, Leander’s slap and her crushed hand still throbbing alongside the claw wounds from Winter’s rage. Her eyes, swollen and red, stared blankly at the wall, Skye’s indifferent gaze carving deeper than any blade.

Hours later, alarms screamed through the co‍mpound, information reaching us that one of⁠ our ship was engulf‍ed in flames,⁠ tearing apart at th⁠e d‌ocks with me‍n screaming, metal warping and wate‍r sw‌allo‍wing‍ bodies. This was definitely the Fa‌lcone‍s, I stood before the screens, watching the inferno w‌ith a cal⁠m that felt a⁠lmo⁠st holy. They ha‌d no idea, no idea their d‍aughter was al‌ready inside my walls and they w‌ere just declaring war‍ over a ghost‌. I ret‍urned t‌o he‍r r‌oom long after midni⁠ght⁠. Smoke still clung to my clothes and blood sta⁠ined my c‍uffs. She sat upright th‍e second I ent⁠ered “What happened?”

The ball wasn’t just a celebration; it was a reminder of the role she was expected to play. The dressmaker lifted a gown from the rack—a masterpiece. Deep scarlet silk that shimmered like fire in candlelight, flowing with effortless grace. The bodice was embroidered with gold threads and tiny rubies, tracing delicate flame-like patterns. Sheer sleeves cascaded softly down her arms, ending in fine lace cuffs that brushed her wrists. The skirt billowed in layers of chiffon, catching the light with undertones of crimson and garnet. Draped in it, Serenya felt wrapped in passion and power—bold, mesmerizing, unforgettable.

💦Claimed Under the Moon💦 The full moon hung high over the dark Mediterranean, casting a silver glow across the deck of *The Siren’s Fury*. The captured Spanish galleon bobbed beside us, its crew now locked below deck. My pirates cheered as they divided the spoils, but my eyes were fixed on one prize alone. Captain Diego Vargas.

Marco sneered, lunging at me and tearing at my clothes. I fought back with everything I had, trying to buy myself time. Thanks to all the chores Bianca used to make me do, I was stronger than I looked. For a moment, Marco couldn't overpower me. He cursed, his movements becoming rougher. Just as my strength was about to give out— BOOM! With a massive crash, the solid hotel room door was kicked off its hinges, wood splinters flying everywhere. Caspian appeared in the doorway like a god of vengeance, radiating a fury that promised hell.

Then, he immediately withdrew his hand as if burned. Dante held his hand and barked a few commands at Pablo while he pointed angrily at Flora and her daughter. Pablo bowed and helped Flora rise to her feet as Dante glided back to the library. Pablo then held Flora’s arm and escorted mother and daughter out of the hall. Just as they left the landing, Jon caught a glimpse of what it was that seemed to have burned Dante's hand. Around the neck of Flora's daughter was the garland of sanaria that was missing from his room.