Lords Of Flame Novels & Stories

It flickered like candlelight, then roared like wildfire. Aria saw her past—her husband’s rage, her escape, the night she entered the Grove. She saw Luna crying in the dark. She saw herself bleeding, broken, afraid. The flame whispered. “You were weak.” Aria stepped forward. “I survived.” The flame bowed. — The second flame rose. Power. It surged like lightning, sharp and seductive. Aria saw herself crowned—marks flaring, armies kneeling. Kaelion at her side. Lucien behind her. Luna glowing like a star.

The word was hard and I trailed my fingers over him, knowing these symbols sometimes meant there was a thick scar which has been covered but somehow, I was still fascinated by every one of them. Maybe because I already knew he was far from been a good boy because it was obviously a gunshot scar but the tattoo was a burning flame. “Tell me what one means.” “No.” I couldn’t stop touching him not only because he was hands-down the sexiest man I’d ever seen but because he was the most fascinating cold-mannered professional on the outside, and a dirty-playing criminal below the surface. I wrapped my hand around the flame tattoo on his arm. “This one, please tell me what this one means and then I’

Everyone seemed to be lost in thought, more confused than when I began to tell them the history of my race. “So… where is this red flame, or who uses it? Can it be any red flame?” Lance asked. “That’s what I was wondering.” Willow and Nix said in unison. “No, just a normal red flame won’t work. Not even supernatural red flames will be able to measure up to this power. This flame is given by the dragon god himself. No one knows where the red flame is though. Not even the elders know where to find it. We don’t know if it is somewhere kept secret or if a supernatural has the ability to wield the red flame. All we know is that it burns as hot as the blue flame, and combined they become even hott

“At least the ones who stayed loyal.” “But some survived,” Kaela added. “And Cassian has them.” Mira’s eyes widened. “The Flamebound are immune to godfire, aren’t they?” “Yes,” Kaela said. “They were designed to kill us.” --- The fire on the map flared once, then settled into soft embers. “I don’t want to destroy them,” Kaela said. “But we can’t leave them in Cassian’s hands. If we don’t act now, they’ll march on Hollowdeep by next moonrise.”

He raised his arms to shield himself, dragonfire boiling in his veins, answering the unnatural blaze before him. The shadows didn’t retreat. They bared their teeth at him, hungry, furious. But he pushed harder. Step after step. Because she was there. Somewhere inside that vortex of ruin. Small. Fragile. Drowning. He reached his hand through the fire, through the storm. “Come back to me—” And then his mouth betrayed him. The name tore from his chest before he could stop it, instinct stronger than sense: “Vaelira!” Her head snapped up.

The private dining room at Il Drago Rosso smelled of aged leather, cigar smoke, and expensive red wine. Dim chandeliers cast long shadows across the long mahogany table where the inner circle sat, capos, lieutenants, men who moved millions in cash and blood without blinking. At the head, Lorenzo “Enzo” Moretti presided like a king on a throne carved from violence. Forty-eight, broad-shouldered, salt-and-pepper hair swept back, dark eyes that missed nothing. Black suit tailored to kill, gold signet ring glinting on his left pinky, the family crest.

“Excellent.” He turned toward the shadows. “The Flame now carries darkness within her. When the time comes, it will either destroy her… or make her unstoppable.” He raised his goblet in silent triumph. “Prepare the armies. The age of war has begun.” Thunder rumbled across the horizon. And beneath the rising moon, destiny sharpened its blade.

Slowly, reluctantly, they began to move. Stormfall warriors approached Bloodpine wolves with stiff shoulders and narrowed eyes. Bloodpine wolves mirrored the tension, their movements sharp, their expressions guarded. The air hummed with distrust, but they moved…and that was something. Lyra watched as Lucas approached Damien. The two warriors stared at each other like predators circling, neither willing to be the first to blink. “This should be fun,” Lucas muttered. Damien smirked. “Try to keep up.” Lyra winced. “This is going to be a disaster.”

A flicker passed through the air. Not shock. Not fear. Understanding. “There are no divisions.” “No structure.” “No protection.” The ground beneath them trembled slightly. “The last one standing will be the victor.” Another pause. “And the victor will be granted one wish.” Silence returned. Heavy. Absolute. Then one final word. “Begin.” Everything shattered. Power erupted in every direction at once. The ground split apart as one of the devils launched forward instantly, striking toward the nearest angel with explosive force. Light clashed against darkness, sending a shockwave through the battlefield that fractured the floating terrain even further.

💦Flames and Desire💦 The fire alarm screamed through my small Palermo apartment as thick black smoke filled the kitchen. A pan of oil had exploded while I was cooking late-night pasta, and the flames were spreading fast across the counter. I coughed violently, backing away from the heat, my heart pounding with panic. Strong arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind, lifting me off my feet like I weighed nothing. "Stay low!" a deep, commanding voice shouted through the smoke.