Hearts With Flames Novels & Stories

Flames A Rare kind of witches, extinct. The last Flames were burned down by common witches for the crime of being unique. Flames powers consist of Fire. Manipulating fire, imagining it, using it for one's need, and lastly illusions. Flames and Werewolves are the only supernaturals that can coexist without feeling a need to be at war with each other. There have come a time where a werewolf mate had to be a flame and the flame had to have an "Ignis" ( a soulmate ), they called him ignis because the wolves ignited the flames' fire. Just like the wolves, the Flames tend to have a short temper. When the werewolves started becoming extinct, the flames lashed out on families, friends, and mainly on

Redemption and Sacrifice The Flaming Altar and Iris With the altar's golden radiance illuminating her path, Iris staggered as the searing heat enveloped her. As though alive, the flames danced high into the air, crackling and spitting sparks. Her mark pulsated in time with her pounding heart, burning brighter than before. She used her arm to protect her eyes, but the intense heat poured into her body, making each step feel more difficult. With her voice scarcely audible over the raging flames, she told herself to keep moving forward.

If she gave them all away, if she became empty, would the sacrifice mean anything? The entity loomed closer, its shadow arms reaching. Oblivion promised peace—no pain, no loss, no need for courage. Then, from above, she felt it: a thread of unity. Her daughter’s voice carrying her name, Xander’s vow like a heartbeat, the pack’s song thrumming through the seal. Their love bound her tighter than the dark could ever unravel. Tears stung her eyes. She whispered, “You do not win because I bleed. You do not win because I fear. I am Flameheart. And I choose to remember—even if I must give that memory away.”

He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he drew close, the sting of the saltwater in his eyes as the droplets caught in his eyelashes on their passage down to his cheeks. “There is no pain,” she was as shocked by the development as he was. “The flames do not burn me.” He reached out carefully but could not touch the flames. They burnt as hot as dragon flame. “They do not burn me, but I can feel their heat,” he told her. “Flaming wings… That was… not what I expected.” “Me either,” she looked at him wild-eyed. “Do you suppose that I could…” “Yes,” he followed her gaze when she looked skywards. “Do it, Ember.”

Enough. I step closer and the air shifts. The nurse gasps softly as a familiar green flame begins to move from my skin. I inhale deeply, focusing on the burn deep within me. The fire that sent Wendigos fleeing. The flames that rejected their venom. The power that feels like it’s becoming something more. I reach for the warrior’s hand. And unleash it. Flames flood the room - cleansing, defiant, divine… Let the reckoning begin.

I hold my arms to my sides and call to the flames. The flames seemingly turn in my direction, and I brace myself, preparing for the flames to hit me in the chest. The icy pain of the flames hits me in the chest. I close my eyes, trying to ignore the pain until the flames from the buildings begin to extinguish around me. I open my eyes and breathe in a sigh of relief. The fire is almost gone. I call out one last time for the flames to come to me, and they do. The remaining flames hit me in the chest with such force that it causes me to drop to my knees. I turn around, look at the fading figure, and offer her a smile.

There was something glowing in my mind that was about to explode. The fleeting feelings of unknown was at the center of my thoughts. At this moment I am a prisoner in a free world. Every corners of my mind seemed to speak by themselves and my heart seemed to be in ablaze. I stared blankly at the bright light in house in daze. It was like my eyes were roving around for something which I was not there. Something beyond its reach it persisted and jammed my heart with queer thoughts. In this night, I felt like embracing somebody. My heart felt lonely and devoid while my whole body seemed into be in flames.

His eyes quickly jumped to a fluttering light at the far end of the hall. Curious, Eros marched toward it. He climbed down along the spiral staircase, all the way to an empty cell in the dungeon. Then, in the darkness, he saw Tora sat in a circle of raging fire. The luna sat across from her. The women’s bodies were intertwined, their naked skin shining like the heart of a flame. There was blood everywhere; Tora’s hands were crimson-soaked.

“But how do I fight him if she stands in the way?” Liam didn’t answer. He simply reached over and held her hand. Elsewhere, The Heart of Fire The Flamefather stood before a burning table, maps sprawled across it. A younger emissary entered, trembling. “My lord… they’ve united.” The Flamefather didn’t move. “Of course they did.” “She has a name now. Ember.” At this, the Flamefather laughed, a sound like crackling bones. “Good,” he whispered. “Now she has something to lose.”

Flames danced over her skin, no longer hungry, no longer wild. They obeyed her breath. And inside her, the flame whispered not of destruction. But on balance. “The heart of the flame,” Elara said softly, “was never power.” She looked up, her voice stronger. “It was the purpose.”