Heaven Flower Novels & Stories

Had the red-haired woman given them names? Gianna closed her eyes and tried to recall those images from that night. The flowers had been unusual, with petals that seemed to shimmer in the torchlight. Some had been purple with gold centers. Others had been white with veins of silver running through them. There had been vines with leaves that felt almost warm to the touch. The red-haired woman had pointed to one in particular. A flower with deep red petals and a black center that looked almost like an eye. "This one is called Heartbloom," she had said, her voice reverent. "It can heal the deepest wounds. It can cure poisons. It can restore what has been broken."

It did not travel. It simply existed. Aurelian felt it within him, as natural as his own existence. “You are order.” “You are purpose.” “You are mine.” The response came instantly, unified across Heaven. “We are yours.” There was no delay. There was no variation. Aurelian’s voice joined the others, identical in tone, identical in certainty. Perfect. A command followed. Not spoken in words, but understood completely. Movement. The stillness of Heaven shifted. Wings extended, not with sound, but with light. Thousands of beings rose at once, ascending through the radiant expanse without disrupting its balance.

Her head felt like mud. Suddenly, a thought came to her. It was a gas leak! She quickly wet a towel and used it to cover her mouth and nose before plucking the strength to head downstairs. When she reached the living room, she found Freya who had fainted on the couch. She felt like she was going to pass out again and no longer had the strength to keep her balance. Her legs folded underneath her and she collapsed. She tried to reach for the phone to call the emergency hotline, but her eyelids were getting heavier by the second.

"May I? Hunter says gesturing to my mom. I nod. Watching him as he approaches. Hunter puts his hand in his pocket and takes out a small box. He opens it and inside are tiny delicate white flowers. I inhale through my nose. I'm surpringly shocked at how strong they smell for such tiny flowers. A smell unlike any flower I've ever smelt before. Unique. "Our pack believes that once we die we need a gift for the moon to cross over. Females take moon flowers and males take moonstones" "Petite fleur de lune" I whisper with wide eyes. I stare at the tiny flowers in wonder and amazement realising why my father called me after them. "We traditionally place the flowers in hair and the stones in a hand"

I could feel it in the air between us—thick with emotion, with meaning, with something ancient neither of us could name. Then, slowly, Kane reached behind his back. I blinked, confused for a moment—until he brought his hand forward. He was holding a single flower. Not just any flower. A moonflower. Its white petals glowed faintly in the moonlight, delicate and perfect. The edges shimmered as if dipped in starlight. It looked like it had bloomed just for this moment—fragile, beautiful, and rare. Moonflowers didn’t grow just anywhere. They were sacred. Said to only appear when the veil between worlds was thin… or when the Moon herself gave permission.

I couldn’t hold back my tears at the sight of my own body. I stepped forward and gently brushed my hand over my face. The faint trace of tears still lingered on my skin. Before I could fully process what was happening, Lucas lunged toward me, frantically clearing away the flowers around my body. His voice was shaking, almost desperate. “Clara has asthma... there can’t be flowers in the house. The pollen will make her sick. Why would you surround her with flowers?”

Huh, people just wouldn’t stop judging. “Do you know what flower came to my mind when I looked at Zephyr for the first time?” Luna Nesta said, looking into my eyes. “A flower that’s found only in inaccessible Gloom forests of Goredom. A flower that has the ability to take the form and shape of every flower in this world, but it has no defined properties of its own. Till date, no one has been able to find out what is the true form of that flower.” “Arcanes, also known as the Nameless flowers,” Miya said, and luna Nesta nodded.

A fury that would only be calmed if I slit their throat, or by default, gouged out their eyes. Chiara, despite everything, retains that pure and innocent aura. However, with her awakened voice, she shone with an almost dazzling brightness and an uncontrollable joy. It was as if an angel had regained its lost wings, and that celestial creature was now my angel. Everywhere we went, Chiara radiated a childlike excitement, as if every corner we visited was a new wonder for her. And so it was, because of her uncle.

"Yea? It's a lily? What about it?" My answer made him snicker as he turned his head in my direction. "It's not a lily. It's called Elnea. It's a flower tended to by the flora fairies that used to follow Eleanor's orders. The sword was what Eleanor knew how to use the best. Eleanor smells like Elnea." So, the flowery scent I smell on Eleanor is Elnea? "So, it has nothing to do with your glory?"

Silver Dawn. The sixth Circle in the seven-Circle structure that organized our world, sorted us by ability, by gift, by what the bloodline carried down through generations whether anyone asked it to or not. The Circles were not a hierarchy, not the way outsiders sometimes assumed when they heard the numbering. They were a taxonomy. Here is what you can do. Here is where you belong. Here is how you serve. The sorting happened young, around the first shift, when the body declared itself and the Circle elders came to look and wrote down what they saw.