Ghost Roses Novels & Stories

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅• Caroline sat beside her mother, Agatha, flipping through the glossy pages of a wedding catalog, scanning the carefully curated arrangements of flowers. Soft sunlight poured through the window, illuminating the pages, casting a gentle glow over the delicate bouquets displayed on each spread. Agatha’s fingers lingered over an image of pristine white roses, her expression calm yet decisive. "White roses," she said firmly, tapping the picture with purpose. "Classic, elegant. They symbolize purity and new beginnings. They’re perfect."

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.”

*** "Sebastian? Sebastian! Sebastian where are you?" Gosh, where could he be? Zeke took the stairs to the back and proceeded to the green house. "Sebastian!" He called as he entered. He heard some rustling ahead by the rose plantation so he approached. He sighed he relief when he saw Sebastian sitting on a bench by the rose flowers. "Here you are." Sebastian didn't raise his head to him. Zeke joined him on the bench. Non of them said anything for the first two minutes until Zeke broke the awkward silence.

He stayed in the car and waited. Holding a bouquet of white roses, Daisy slowly walked through rows of gravestones until she stopped in front of the one tucked away in the farthest corner. The stone bore only Dario's name and the years of his birth and death. In the photograph, he had on a black suit. His distinct features were exactly the same as the first time Daisy had met him. She placed the white roses in front of the gravestone and stood there silently for a long time. Finally, she said softly, "When I said I wouldn't forgive you, I meant it. But I don't hate you anymore either. Rest in peace."

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it.” She shrugged, and opening the small door in the gate. She had no umbrella with her, I’m guessing she go out in a hurry. Who wouldn’t when their cousin was standing in front of her own home gate, and staring at her house like a psycho? “Don’t apologize. Let’s get you inside before you catch a cold.” I nod, following her through the door. The walkway is just like I remember, on each side are prize winning roses. Of different colors. Huh? When do black roses exist? I took a small detour from following Alexis, bending over a patch of those strange black roses.

Each place setting is meticulously arranged, with fine porcelain plates and glistening silverware, shimmering under the soft glow of the candlelight. As the candle flames flicker, casting a warm and intimate glow, a centerpiece of vibrant red roses takes center stage. The roses are carefully arranged, their petals unfurling gracefully, radiating a passionate allure. They are nestled in a crystal vase, their fragrance filling the air and weaving a tapestry of romance that envelops the room.

If the love she felt for Zuri could ever be transferred to the man who had claimed her through blood and combat. "Elsie," Malcom said, drawing her attention. "What color flowers would you like? For the ceremony." "White," she said, without thinking. "White roses." Malcom smiled. "White roses it is." Mira clapped her hands together. "Oh, how lovely! White roses against the dark stone of the Midnight Pack. It will be breathtaking." Garrath nodded. "Our gardens are famous for their white roses. They thrive in the cold." Elsie said nothing. She thought of the white roses she had seen in the castle gardens, the ones that grew near the fountain where she had kissed Zuri. The ones that had been a w

Then, without a second thought, he joined her in the water, slashing at his own wrist. As the blood mixed with the water, Grayson's vision blurred. In his final moments, he saw me—there, standing at the edge of the bathtub. His face lit up with a wild, desperate joy as he tried to stagger toward me, calling my name. "Honey," he cried, his voice full of longing. I stared at him, my eyes cold and distant, a disgust so sharp it cut through everything. "I'm not your honey," I said. "Not in this life, not in the next, not in any life to come. Not ever."

This kind of cemetery wouldn’t scare her—unless they visited at night, in which case, she’d still be afraid. “They’re over there,” Raven said. He took Gia’s hand and led her deeper into the cemetery. She didn’t mind because the scenery along the way was far from boring. Now, it wasn’t just green trees. Along the stone path, trees bloomed with beautiful pink flowers, adding vibrant colours to welcome the spring. Gia finally spotted the source of the fragrance. Among the variously shaped headstones, a sea of flowers bloomed. There were multicoloured tulips, pink moss, purple lavender, and baby blue eyes with soft blue hues. All these spring flowers grew neatly beside the graves.

Or fear about what came next. I made my way through the underground corridors toward Noir's room, remembering that I'd bought him something while we were shopping—a black scarf with silver threading that I thought would complement his aesthetic and winter was coming. It was a small gesture, maybe stupid, but I wanted to give it to him. When I reached his door, I pushed it open without knocking. His bed was neatly made, empty. Disappointment crashed through me. Maybe he'd gone out. Maybe he was tired of being here with all of us.