Novel & Cerita Hearts Of Flame

"But still I loved him." Ignatius turned to face her. "And still you rise." She didn't answer, only gazed into dawn, her outline defined by firelight and sorrow. Then she whispered, "Tell me more about the Flameheart Rite." Ignatius paused. "It's not merely a binding spell. It's a sacrifice. The host must draw all of these cursed threads inside themselves. All of these souls corrupted by anger. All of these monsters born of grief. You would take them all into your heart."

She was hoping for him to say something, but he never did. "I guess you're right," Ahankara smiled back, before sighing. "That's just how fate works." She looked at Yashvir with tender eyes and a soft smile. "Flames, no matter how dangerous, always seem to be drawn towards roses." - - - - - -

He said. “Hmm…” I hummed as I blushed listening to him. “At that moment I was hit with inspiration and wrote a song about you. It needs more work to reach perfection but do you wanna hear it?” he asked me. “Okay,” I said excitedly. “What’s the title?” I asked him. “It’s called, ‘You are my FLAME’.” He answered with a smile watching me getting all excited. “What does that mean?” “Well, FLAME is an acronym. Each word denotes something.” Grabbing my hand and spreading my fingers with his.

Work was far more urgent. Even though James wanted to have dinner with Monica, he had no choice but to rush back to Jasper Heights. The fire, which hadn't been put out, had spread into a raging sea of flames before the other fire crew arrived. The windows exploded from the heat, and the glass shards scattered everywhere, emitting piercing sounds. All of the furniture and household items had been incinerated in the fire, turning into clouds of smoke and piles of ashes. The cries from the neighbors, the siren of the fire trucks, and the crackling sound of the flames formed the soundtrack of a tragedy.

One fueled by the purest form of hatred. “STOP!”

“Yes, I do.” “Yes. Selene used Vestra’s powder, but it can only be used once every five years because Vestra is not active anymore.” Her expression changed slightly for a few seconds but immediately returned to normal before I could name whatever it was. “And the last… Nivor, the Silent Flame. His fire burned only those with hatred in their hearts. He was the pack’s purifier.” Camille gasped softly. “They sound incredible… If they protected the pack, why lock them away?”

--- That night, Aria sat in a high cliff shelter overlooking the Heartspire. Its spire glowed faintly in the distance—like a sleeping dragon’s breath. Kael sat beside her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “Tomorrow, we enter it,” she said softly. “And if it fights back?” he asked. She looked down at the glowing mark on her neck. “Then I fight harder.” --- Far below them, in the deepest root chamber of the Heartspire, something stirred. A heartbeat not heard in centuries. The Flame had awakened. And it was waiting.

The air shimmered faintly, carrying scents that didn’t belong in the present—jasmine, parchment, wet earth after rain. Elias stepped beside her. His fingers brushed hers, not seeking reassurance, but grounding. “We’ve crossed a threshold,” he murmured. “There’s no going back now.” She didn’t answer—just looked ahead at the altar in the center of the circular chamber. There it was. The Heart of Flame. Not roaring. Not raging. Just sleeping—a quiet, golden ember suspended in the air, gently pulsing like a dream trying not to be forgotten. Behind them, Lilith, Kael, Kiva, and Darian entered slowly, reverently.

He could almost see me, my eyes crinkling into a smile, leaning in for a quick kiss. At a red light, he saw a young couple on the sidewalk. The guy was down on one knee, a bouquet of fiery roses in hand, awkwardly confessing his love. The girl nodded, and they embraced, cheering. For a moment, he was lost in the memory of us, of countless moments just like that. However, they were nothing but memories gathering dust. He did not slow down until he reached the villa. The dim light from inside the house somehow calmed his racing heart.

Watching this pair of shameless lovers put on such a melodramatic show in front of me almost made me gag. With a mocking sneer, I said, "You should feel guilty. My dear husband chose to save his old flame while leaving his actual wife to fend for herself. If I were to spread the word, do you think the two of you would be drowned in public outrage?" Celestine stiffened for a moment at my words, but she quickly recovered and suddenly lunged toward the wall as if to bash her head against it. "Let me die! Let me die! It's my fault Ophelia got burned. I'll compensate her with my life!"