Flor De La Muerte Novels & Stories

She put her hands on the cold stone railing, excitedly pointing to a red flower growing not far away, and told Caesar, "Ah! General, do you know that flower? Its scientific name is Pseudorchis albida. The stamens taste sweet. It's said that as long as an Alpha gives it to an Omega, the Omega will never be able to leave the Alpha. Many Alphas pick it by hand to express their love for their Omegas..." Caesar stared at the red flower trembling on the edge of the cliff. A fierce wind blew, carrying a small stone that rolled down, startling the perched birds, and falling into the bottomless abyss without a sound. Annihilation. Lola's eyes sparkled, "A qualified, breathing, and talking Alpha will

I counted data points. Day nineteen of the current assignment. Three vampire sightings in the northern corridor, all within a twelve-mile stretch of territory that should have been neutral ground under the terms of the treaty. Two of those sightings within the last week alone. Movement patterns consistent with scouting, not feeding. They weren't looking for something to eat. They were measuring something. The difference mattered. A feeding was opportunistic, random, manageable. Measuring implied intent. Measuring implied a question being asked repeatedly until the answer was clear enough to act on.

She tore free from Dixal’s hold and slapped Diaz across the face, her palm ringing through the room. “You monster! You killed my father and pretended to befriend my mother! You planted drugs in our home! You tracked my every move through your men until Mama was convinced my life was in danger—and then you manipulated her into surrendering to your will!” Her fists pounded against his chest as tears blurred her vision. “You heartless devil!” Diaz stood still, letting her strike him. “Flor, you really don’t understand. The enemies I face aren’t ordinary men. They twist everything. I didn’t plant those drugs. I was as shocked as anyone.”

I looked into the lens, imagining Massimo’s eyes on the other side. "Himalayan lilies," I said, my voice smooth and chillingly calm. "A flower that symbolizes purity. A flower that requires a delicate touch and a loyal heart to thrive." I held the lily over the mouth of the chipper. "But when a flower is touched by a hand stained with betrayal, it rots." I dropped the flower. *Grind. Whir. Shred.* The machine roared to life, a mechanical monster devouring the white petals and turning them into a spray of brown, wet mulch.

she said slowly. "Discount sun," Dante corrected, taking a sip of his coffee. "The real one still arrives on schedule. This is the early-access version." A convoy of vehicles rolled into the compound below. Workers began unloading crates—rare flowers that bloomed only in direct light, heat-sensitive orchids, gold-thread banners embroidered with wolf motifs, crystal light sculptures shaped like howling wolves and crescent moons. An assistant jogged up with a card, handing it to Luna with an apologetic bow.

I know that War has hone-colored eyes, Death has scarlet-colored hair, and Pestilence’s eyes are two different colors. Each woman steps forward with their dove-colored wings extended and flaming swords held tightly between their fists. War’s eyes, armor and sword, are the color of crimson. Deaths are black, and Pestilence’s glow neon green. I smile at each woman. “War, Death, Pestilence. It has been a long time.” They each give me a respectful bow keeping their swords at their sides. War steps forward and looks me over, “Estamos aqui para tu servicio, hermana.” We are here at your service, sister.

Slowly one by one I finish off the remaining four men, making sure the room witnessed the hell f'm capable of and will treat my enemies and those who cross me with. “PLEASE SHOW RESPECT FOR THE HEIR OF THE DE LEONE CRIME FAMILY AND NEW ACTING HEAD OF THE EAT ITAILAN/AMERICAN DE LEONE MAIFA" Vic pauses his speech and comes to my side, taking my hand in his he kisses the back on my now bloody knuckles "DIABLA"

It wasn't entirely unreasonable. Since the ceremony grounds were already being themed with exotic flora, a few bunches of yellow and white chrysanthemums—the blossoms of the dead—would certainly add a "unique" aesthetic. I reached for my device and placed an order with a specialist florist in the Northlands. Lexi had ignored my warnings; now, she would receive a symbolic tribute to the death of her dignity. If she wouldn't let me find peace in my new life, then none of them should expect a tranquil union.

She was getting tired of people talking about her like she wasn't standing right there. Jimmy smiled and held out a glow stick first, then lifted his hand with the circle thing. Everyone stared at it. "It's a flower," Lexi said. "Helianthus," Ellie said. "I believe you mean, sunflower, Els," Brooke said. "Where'd you find it?" Alex asked. Jimmy grinned. "They're everywhere. Just small ones right now, but the further we went, the more we saw." "Do you know what this means?" Ellie said excitedly.

My throat itched and my vision blurred a bit by the abrupt development. We neared his location, about a mile out from the border, to find him lying lifeless on the ground, his skin clammy, with blood trickling out his mouth and nose. Three darts stuck out of his shoulder, arm, and leg. I checked his breathing, and the distinct scent of decay setting in drifted into my nose, alerting me that we were too late. I ripped one of the darts out with my mouth and smelled it. Wolfsbane.