Hothouse Flower Read Online Novels & Stories

Chapter 3: Now that her father had returned to London and she had a few weeks to go before starting at the academy with Madame Blanchard, Rose could focus on the old estate. She liked the old furniture and the smell of wax used to polish it, some of it could use reupholstering. Ok most of it. Moving from room to room she became alarmingly aware that much of this house was left to rot. Although her dad had a pest control team go through and rid them of rats and other vermin, the aftermath of the hibernation was overwhelming in some rooms. Until she came to one that was locked. Frustrated, she called for Mrs. Stuart. Issabelle made it to her much quicker than the older house keeper and offered

"I've prepared breakfast, though I suspect you might prefer something lighter today." The knowing tone in the housekeeper's voice made Iris pause in the doorway. Mrs. Hartwell was arranging fresh flowers in a crystal vase—roses that seemed to shimmer with their own inner light, their petals holding colors that shifted between silver and pale gold depending on the angle of view. "Are those from the conservatory?" Iris asked, though she already knew the answer. "From the eternal rose bed," Mrs. Hartwell confirmed, not meeting her eyes. "They bloomed especially bright this morning. The garden is... pleased with recent developments."

*PHOEBE’S POV*** Footsteps shuffle around from the other side of the door. I questioned what might have kept the witch so long. The witch’s house had a nice aroma to it, smelling like peonies and lemon. Overshadowed by Hudson’s overbearing presence at my side, I found that the scent of the premises calmed me. My wolf stirred within me and I kept my stares away from Hudson. Looking around, the porch was adorned with a mixture of flowers hanging as well as in pots on the floor. There were freesia, garden roses, lilac, and others that I do not know their names.

Along with ponds adorned with lotus flowers, this created a poetic, but also somewhat dull, atmosphere. When Chloe first moved in, they had renovated a specific area and crafted a garden in the Estre-style, adorning it with an expanse of blooming flowers so that she could adapt to the manor quickly. During warmer days, she could see an unending expanse of flowers from her window, their enchanting scent an irresistible allure for any girl.

There are also potted plants and decorative details that add a touch of life and style, blending nature with the building's architecture. “So, do you like it?” when I hear Wolfgang's voice, I turn my head and look at him over my shoulder. Wolfgang is stepping onto the terrace too, but Hans isn't with him. “This place is so beautiful and very luxurious. Do you rent it out?” He shakes his head. “I don't rent anything, Chiara. I buy it,” Wolfgang reaches me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Everything I have in my hands, belongs to me.” Suddenly, fire ignites in my blood at an unprecedented speed. I desire Wolfgang in this moment, and he knows it. He's never had to hear my voice to know what

Esper glanced back nervously, and the stag nodded his head, encouraging her to go in. Taking a deep breath, Esper cleared the vines and revealed a doorless archway. Inside, the stone building was full of flora. Climbing up the walls were white datura flowers, and the floor was covered with blooming rain lilies. The moon shone brightly through the holes in the roof, turning all of the white flowers silver, just like her hair. The area was what Esper was searching for, and she had the stag to thank for bringing her there. Esper heard a rustling and turned around to see the stag trying to make its way inside. She couldn't help but chuckle a little as she watched the animal struggle. He couldn't

Thank heaven for that. She went back to scanning when she took one look at the flower due to curiosity. “I’ve never seen a flower as dark and as unique as this,” Hestia’s voice was the only sound in the midst of the silent park. She stared longer at the black flower and noticed that it had silver linings along its edges. Hestia smelled the plant and ran her fingers to the flower’s petals. “So soft and black…” When she hoisted her face, she saw a shadow of a man nearby. Or is it a woman?

Mary Kinson looked at her and was not annoyed, but said, unfortunately: "The potted flower is costly, and it has withered when it touches the human body temperature." Tama Kinson was dazed, thinking that a flower was so delicate and charming that it disappeared, and her heart was more or less sorry.

The first flower had dark grey leaves but its flower looked like a dark heart, between that heart was what looked like a small human hand moving. I quickly looked at the second one and noticed it was even worse. It looked exactly like a golden rose with dark thorns. The only disturbing thing was the blood droplets it was removing. The third flower was totally dark green but the thing that creeped me out were the long vines that popped out of the flower pot looking like tentacles. They were also removing colourless slimy fluids that looked so disgusting. I looked at the last and final flower pot and I was shocked to see it was a beautiful white lotus.

It drew the direction of its growth from Nyx's waiting. In the final moment before she was sealed, Nyx had carved a brief command into the Void with her own lily-of-the-valley frequency. She had chosen a thistle instead of a lily, because the lily is the flower of the Mother of Wolves. She was already the last one. The last one must make way for the new. The new one will have her own flower. She planted the thistle to pave the road for her successor. Thistles can survive at seventy below zero. Can take root in that thin, narrow transition layer between frozen soil and permafrost.