Forbidden Flame Novels & Stories

The same day, I paid a visit to the cemetery where my father was laid to rest, I brought his favorite flower and placed it at the side of his grave. I remembered every memory we shared, it almost made me feel sorry for doing what I was about to do. However, I've endured so much that I can't ever bear the same pains anymore. I asked Dad to forgive me, I know he chose to keep his entire fortune In my name, forgetting his own son's, and now, I have taken theirs too. It pains to act all wicked, but remember I was once their Nina, nonetheless, Christian and his brother as beaten more than they can chew, and now they all face the wrath of killing my unborn child.

I stood there awkwardly near the doorway, completely unsure how to draw his attention toward me properly. I remember I was told to initiate to show willingness and if he doesn’t like me, I could get a strike. 3 strike and I am out and would be needing to refund the eighty grand, I can’t do that when spending it was worth it. So, a crazy Idea pop in, I pick a grape in my mouth and gently remove his newspaper, his eyes found mine as I sat on his lap, I place it at the tip, watching him slowly want to take it.

At any cost. Rose swallowed hard, seeing the unshed tears in his eyes. A madness in that gaze, fear of losing her. She cupped his face and held her gaze. “You are a flame of sin, Vladimir, Who burns everything around him. And I decided to stay away from you the moment I opened my eyes.” She inhaled sharply seeing his eyes, “But it didn’t let me in peace. I felt like a moth, pulling into your flames. Again and again. That’s what I have become. That’s what you made out of me. It’s better to burn in your flames with you than live without you.”

I stepped forward And opened my palm The black sigil shimmered up my arm, coiling like smoke trapped beneath glass The Elders gasped One stepped back Another whispered a ward Only Rian stood still “That is not her mark,” he said softly “No,” I answered. “It belongs to something else.” Soren stepped forward. “What is it?” Rian’s voice dropped to a whisper “It’s the brand of Voidflame.” The room went silent Then Ewen whispered, “That’s a myth.” “No,” Rian said. “That was the precaution. The gods feared one might rise who could hold both divine light and consuming dark. They created her—the First Flame—to keep it trapped. You’ve burned her out.”

Humans couldn’t see it—except for the gifted ones who could perceive the unseen. A werewolf without royal blood could have their mark voided using the Blue Flame. The Blue Flame was no ordinary fire. It was a flame from a thousand years ago—one that could never be extinguished. Mates who wished to sever their bond had to lie within it, enduring its torment. The time spent within the fire depended on their will to break the bond. Some endured only a few hours, but most had to remain for two to three days. The flame did not physically harm them, but it tortured their souls until the bond was completely severed.

As the runes on the Phantom Coffin began to glow brilliantly, a deafening explosion echoed through the air. A streak of ghostly green fire erupted from the coffin, surging toward Chase. "What a dense ghostly aura," Chase muttered. Marais let out a crazed laugh. "That's the Phantom Flame! It burns the soul itself. You're doomed, boy! Your soul will be reduced to ashes!" The Phantom Flame was birthed from the condensed resentment of countless trapped souls and was a force of terrifying destruction.

“You’re cute when you’re pissed.” “Shut up.” Silence stretches. The fire pops, sending sparks up the chimney. I try to ignore how the warm glow makes his skin look golden, how his gray sweatpants hang low on his hips. We’ve been dancing around this for months—stolen glances, accidental brushes in the hallway, that one time last summer he walked in on me changing and didn’t leave right away. Forbidden. Wrong. Hot. He shifts closer. “You know what would make this less boring?”

Now that she causes drama after drama, how can she survive all the judgment people cast against her? HIS FRACTURED FLAME (Book II of HFF series) Since the day Araulla lost the most valuable person in her life, the fire that urges to revenge ignites. As her hatred grows deeper, the desire for departing the lives of every Houstons consumed her. She's filled with fury, grief, and vengeance against Catherine Houston, as she plots her downfall for Edward's justice. Araulla's eldest brother, Hansel, conspires with William, creating a better force in taking down their enemies. When all concealed truth starts spilling out, how can they recover from all the aches the world cast against them?

It was a tender breeze that cradled the echoes of long-forgotten lives, each gust whispering secrets of those who once walked this hallowed ground. Her fingers lingered over a new sigil etched into her palm, its sharp lines and intricate curves stark against her skin. This mark had been born from the fierce blaze she had summoned weeks earlier—a unique flame that felt alive with potential. It wasn’t soul-fire, devoid of warmth or purpose, nor was it Hollow, a shadow of existence. No, this was something far rarer; she had chosen to call it the Silver Flame, though its true nature remained shrouded in mystery. Yet, as she took each step on this sacred soil, she felt the gentle hum resonating f

Seren muttered dryly. He blinked at her. “That sounds inconvenient.” I pressed my forehead against his. “You scared me.” “You scared me first,” he replied faintly. Behind us, the staircase’s glow had dimmed significantly. The Flame below had quieted. Contained. For now. Thorne stood slowly, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “You used it,” he said quietly. “Yes.” “The forbidden binding.” “Yes.” He nodded once, almost to himself. “You rewrote the rule.”