Laced Roses Novels & Stories

So this is how the mate bond feels. A rush of energy, a pull like gravity tightening around us, and an almost maddening awareness of the other person. I wasn’t about to let it sway me though. Sure, the man in front of me is ridiculously perfect, but I wasn’t some love-struck fool who’d drop everything at the first spark of fate. I had a life, plans, and a fiancé waiting for me upstairs. I raised an eyebrow, forcing myself to stay calm even as my heart raced. “Take a number and get in line, sweetheart,” I said coolly, flashing the engagement ring on my finger in front of his gray eyes. “I’m otherwise occupied right now.” …Five years later, when I pushed the door open, my mate remained motionless on a leather couch, his piercing gaze boring into me with a cold detachment that sent shivers down my spine. He leaned back, the casualness of the gesture at odds with the intensity in his eyes. His arms rested lazily on the backrest, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His body was coiled tight, like a predator ready to pounce, and the air between us crackled with tension. “Is my number finally up?” he asks, his tone laced with bitter amusement. “My dear mate.” The words sting, but I can’t deny the truth in them. He is my last chance.

At our wedding, my wife's assistant "accidentally" uploaded the wrong photo. The big screen was supposed to display our wedding portraits. Instead, it was a picture of my wife and him in full wedding attire. Their fingers were laced together, their eyes locked in a soft, intimate gaze, looking every bit like a blissfully happy couple. The entire venue erupted in shocked whispers. The assistant froze in shock, acting like he had no idea why he was in the photo. He started panicking, asking if we should just postpone the ceremony. My wife, however, stayed surprisingly calm. She whispered her solution, “Everyone’s here. Postponing now would be humiliating and, honestly, a bad omen. Beside, most people here don’t even know what the groom looks like. Why don’t we just let him stand in for you?” Our friends were dumbfounded. They all thought I’d explode in anger and jealousy after hearing something so outrageous. Instead, I nodded, saying it was actually a great idea. Seeing how composed I remained, my wife looked pleased with herself. She told me that since we were legally married anyway, she’d make it up to me later with another ceremony. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing: she had just signed the divorce papers.

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

Warning... or Invitation? That choice is yours. This isn’t a fairytale. This isn’t about sweet kisses beneath cherry blossoms or soft smiles under the stars. No. This is raw, This is reckless, This is “Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire” A collection of BL short stories carved from lust, laced with obsession, and kissed by chaos. Each chapter stands on its own, a world where strangers become addictions, roommates cross lines, enemies blur into lovers, and the line between want and need snaps without warning. These men don’t fall in love. They fall into temptation. They crash into each other like lightning against the sea, loud, unforgiving, and beautiful in their destruction. You’ll find no gentle romance here. Only the ache of fingertips brushing where they shouldn't, the weight of glances held too long, the gasp before the plunge. This is for the ones who know love isn’t always tender. That sometimes, the most unforgettable stories are the ones written in bruises and longing. This is for those who crave stories that leave a mark, who don’t flinch when desire gets messy, when hearts bleed a little before they beat as one. Not for the faint-hearted. Not for the clean-handed. This is for the bold, the brave, the ones who dare to touch the flame even if it burns. So turn the page. Step into the fire. But don’t say I didn’t warn you--- Because once the embers catch, they never go out.

I’m a mortal priestess, but a Tartarus death curse is killing me. The only cure is a Golden Apple from Olympus, which blooms once a century to purify a soul. But my soulmate—Zale, son of Poseidon—snatched my apple away. He fed it to my sister, Melora, just to heal a minor magical burn. I abandoned my final treatments at the Temple of Apollo. Instead, I drank a vial of Lethe poison, laced with water from the Styx. It silences all pain. The price? In three days, my soul will turn to ash. No afterlife. No reincarnation. In my final three days on earth, I let everything go. I gave my Healing Temple to Melora. My parents, the high priests, smiled in relief. When Zale drew the Blade of Olympus to sever our soulmate bond, I gladly offered my heart's blood. He stroked my cheek and praised my “generosity.” As if I’d finally learned my lesson. I pushed my son, Philon, toward Melora and told him to call her “Mom.” He cheered and threw himself into her arms, crying out that her lullabies were sweeter. I gave up everything. None of them even noticed I was dying. They just looked at me proudly. "Our Kressa has finally learned her place." But I can't help wondering... when I fade into stardust forever, will they even remember me?

This is not a tale about roses and first kisses. It is a tale of primal lust and irresistible attraction between mates that were never meant to be together. Soon to be eighteen, Seraya will be mated to her childhood sweetheart on her eighteenth birthday and finally be able to trigger her shift. But what if he betrays her and claims another? Seraya is devastated, heartbroken, shunned and abandoned by the pack, perfect prey as she falls into the Drazien's lap. Drazien is everything her childhood lover is not, harder, rougher, older, and much more ruthless. Often called Fenrir's heir, he is the one of the five Lycans that rule the werewolf community from the shadows. His name alone is enough to strike terror in his enemies's hearts. When he is not killing, he is fucking and he never touches virgins. He offers her a contract; a fake mate bond for a month and in exchange, he will trigger her shift and get revenge on the ones that betrayed her. For a month, they must pretend to be in love but in private, the line is clear. Drazien wants nothing to do with virgins so why is it the most difficult thing in the world to keep his hands off this one? But Drazien is a man with many enemies and they just found the only weak link in his armor. Threats begin as warnings, and then her life becomes targeted such that it is now a full time job to keep her alive, forcing them even closer. In a month of danger, lust, drama and betrayals. Can Drazien keep his oath to abstain from her? And what if he cannot protect her all the time from the threats? Step into Seraya and Drazien's world to find out!

Billionaire Isaac Lloyd viewed his impoverished wife Emily merely as a tool to appease his family's incessant pressure for his marriage. He consistently neglected Emily's feelings, often leaving her alone in their mansion while he would be out all night. It wasn't until Emily had had enough and sought a divorce, moving out, that Isaac realized he had grown accustomed to her company. He regretted his actions deeply, resorting to every possible means to bring Emily back to his side. Despite his efforts with roses, luxurious dates, and jewels, nothing could win back Emily's heart. She had already found her own world where she transformed and grew into a movie star, adored by all of Hollywood. Holding the Oscar’s best actress trophy, Emily said, ‘I would like to thank my ex-husband. Had it not been for his neglect and abandonment during our brief marriage, I would never have had the opportunity to build my acting career.’ Emily's fans exclaimed, ‘Divorce was the best decision Emily ever made!’ The Best Actor winner smiled, ‘I believe no one dares to ignore Emily now!’ Meanwhile, Isaac was hidden in the audience, watching as the spotlight illuminated Emily's path forward. He incessantly searched on his phone: 'How to win back my ex-wife who has become the Best Actress?' 'What to do if my ex-wife doesn't love me anymore?' 'Why didn't I cherish the love of my life when I had the chance?'

Grandpa will be announcing his will at his birthday banquet. Apparently, I only possess the right to inherit the family's assets if I'm in a stable relationship with someone. I beg my girlfriend, Hannah Samson, countless times to have our relationship publicized. But she keeps using her overtime shift as an excuse. Today, she finally yields to me. "Alright. You should attend the family meeting first. I'll be there soon." The moment I step into the manor on my own, I hear my relatives' mocking laughter surrounding me. "You keep claiming that you're busy with your career every day. To think that you can't even bring your own girlfriend to this meeting! You do realize that your inheritance right depends on your partner, right? "Don't tell me you lied to us about having a girlfriend!" I clutch my phone tightly, feeling my palm going clammy with sweat. Time slowly ticks past. Just as Grandpa is about to read his will out loud, someone pushes the front door open abruptly. I turn around in delight, only for my smile to freeze on my face. Isaac Letterman, the fake heir, smiles wanly at everyone, his hand still laced with Hannah's. "Sorry, we're late." As I stare at the duo, I feel my heart plunging into an icy abyss. Then, I turn back to look at the relatives, who were mocking me earlier. "You said you wanted to see my girlfriend, right? That's her right there."

Anger, in all shades, blared into his eyes as he pushed me against the wall, growling. “Don’t let any man touch you ever again!” My blood boiled at his audacity as I spat out. “You have already rejected me, Alpha Vincenzo. Now, you can’t …” The rest of my warning died down in my head as he lunged forward and wrapped his hand around my thro@t. Despite his maddening rage, his gruff voice sounded eerily calm, sending shivers down my spine. “Rejected or not, you are mine, Ashley. Touch another man, and trust me, I’ll make sure you see me tear him to shr£ds!” … Rejected, banished, and tormented. Ashley’s life was another name of hell as she struggled to survive in the rogue pack every single day. She loathed her ex, Alpha Vincenzo, the reason behind her endless misery. However, life wasn’t exactly a bed of roses for Vincenzo as well. Burning in the fire of regret, his love turned into obsession, driving his wolf to the edge of insanity. His only goal was to bring Ashley back, no matter how long it took. After five years of separation, their paths crossed again in a fateful encounter, entangling their fates with a bizarre backlash of rejection. But Ashley was sure of one thing, she would never forgive Vincenzo! As her hatred clashed with Vincenzo’s obsession, the old feelings surfaced, reigniting the spark. Would she be able to resist the temptation of the bond that still simmered between them? Or the storm of true love would wash away all the grievances of the past?

Seavora, Carmoria After seven years of a long-distance marriage, I was finally transferred to Leah Lambert's city. On Valentine's Day, I crossed Carmoria with my transfer papers, a big bouquet of roses, and a new diamond ring hidden in the bouquet. I waited outside her office, ready to surprise her. "Babe, where are you?" The second she walked out, I video-called her. I'd been counting down to this moment for years. Her voice was as gentle as ever. "Just got off work. What's up?" "Nothing. Just miss you. Do you miss me?" "Of course I do." A smile tugged at my lips. Thinking about her reaction when she saw me, I stepped toward her. "Really? Then turn around and—" My voice cut out. I froze. Her arm was wrapped around a man in a suit. Then she lifted her head and kissed the man. "If it's not urgent, I'll call you when I'm free. I have something important to do right now." She hung up. I stood in the cold and heard the man tease, "Babe, what's so important?" The woman I'd loved through college and seven years of marriage didn't hesitate. "Being with you." Tears hit the roses. I stared at the diamond ring nestled in the bouquet and let out a bitter laugh. So that's all I am to you? Someone who only matters when it's convenient.