Flowers Are Bait Novel Novels & Stories

Julian’s eyes wandered to a clothing store next door that was opening the same day. [First Bloom] Julian looked at the sign twice. When he looked inside the window, he froze. A slender, graceful figure stood behind the counter. He stared in shock. Someone behind him nudged him impatiently. He snapped out of it and ran forward.

Whispers followed her every step. Freya's daughter. Freya's child. Freya's successor. Valir himself leaned forward. Smiling. Expectant. Maya wanted to run. But she stood firm. Then, she raised her hand. A white blossom emerged from the soil. Perfect. Beautiful. Alive. Gasps erupted. Then she remembered her promise to her mother. Slowly. Secretly. She prayed a silent apology to the flower she had grown. The flower wilted. Its petals curled inward. Its stem bent. Its life vanished.

“A pleasure. We’ve heard so much about your… quiet success.” I took her hand briefly, my own smile serene. Then, in a voice low enough for them alone but carrying just enough for nearby ears, I delivered the riddle with elegant calm: “Some flowers bloom brightest when another is crushed beneath the soil. Isn’t it fascinating how betrayal can fertilize new growth—until the roots remember and start pulling back?”

Ready. Lyanna Black. The name I had been carrying for fourteen months, the identity built for exactly this kind of situation, a woman with enough history to be plausible and not enough to be checkable quickly. Hitchhiker. Wrong direction. Heard something in the trees. Ran. The story had no holes because it had been designed to have no holes, and the only way it failed was if I failed to hold it correctly. Still water, I thought. You know this. You've been doing this since before they gave it a name.

he said excitedly to the others. The one with black hair closed his eyes, covering the irises that were the same color as the night sky. “She’s here,” he said in a whisper. He turned to the other three, a grin on his face, and continued, “The Moonflower.”

I ended up picking a mystery genre novel before making my way to the garden since I felt like reading there instead of the library. I hadn’t spent time here in the garden for a while now, I welcomed the serenity as I walked down the garden path, touching the petals of a few flowers. I made my way over to my usual bench, staring around me at the blooming flowers. I watched the water fountain In front of me, watching the water dance and bubble for a bit before tipping my head back, facing the sky as I reveled in the warmth of the sun ray beating down my face. I open the novel on my lap, indulging in the fictional world for the next hour before making my way back into the house to check on Mari

She closed the door behind her slowly. The apartment was still. Not quiet — still. Air too heavy. The smell of something floral. Faint. Sweet. Wrong. Her eyes drifted to the bookshelf. The flower was back. No — flowers, plural. Five of them now. Each bloom a different color. Crimson. Violet. Cerulean. Pale gold. Ink black. All curling from different books, petals growing like they’d always belonged there. Sea Glass Psalms. The Edge of Dusk. Forgotten Bodies. Every book Aria had buried a piece of herself in — every one of them blooming with impossible color. A spectrum of memories. Of lovers.

She inhaled deeply. “Wait,” she whispered. “What?” he asked. “How do you know about the flower you just prepared? You’re not from us. You are Inhumane.” Peirce ignored her question. “Just drink.” He poured it all in her mouth, watching as she swallowed it. “There you go.” She coughed. Peirce patted her back as she leaned over. “I stole the book about the flowers from my grandma,” he confessed. Sniffia wiped her mouth. “And you said you are unlucky,”

She left them and walked straight towards their classroom. “Another boring day,” she whispered to herself as she sat. She put her bag and get the book which she covered with another design to hide the real title of the book. The book was called “My Journey Beyond My Imagination”. It was written by Lilia Desaix, it’s the reason why Clandes covered the book. Bulwarkians were not allowed to read or use any artworks of Desaix. Desaix was known as a criminal, they killed a lot of humans since they are vampires and witches. But, it cannot be denied that they are talented.

She shrank back slightly before forcing herself to look pitiful. "You have no idea how terrible I've been feeling," Lily said weakly. "The only thing keeping me going was thinking about you. Without you here, I didn't even want to take my medicine…" Louis's dark expression eased just a little. Noticing this, Lily pressed a hand to her forehead and leaned toward him as if she was about to faint. Carissa rolled her eyes. Snapping back to his senses, Louis shoved Lily away and coldly said, "We found a badly mutilated body by the lake. Rena is dead. At my and Rena's home, I found your fur. Did you have anything to do with Rena's death?"