Lost Roses Book Novels & Stories

A drop of tear landed on the back of my hand. I ignored it and made a rose appear out of thin air just like a magician. "When we first started dating, you were nothing but a bouncer. The owner's enemies came looking for trouble. On Valentin's Day, you were severely injured and covered in blood. I was worried sick. I cried helplessly as I looked at your wounds. But what did you do? You pulled out a rose that you had been hiding, and it was covered in blood." Thomas chuckled as he took the rose from me.

I was no longer a lonely wolfless girl. I was finally happy. Orion started chatting with the older couple, who were the elders of the coven and played an important role in making decisions. "Where is Ruth?" Rose wiped the mud from the sleeve of her cardigan before looking at me, "She left." "Left?" I repeated. Rose looked around before taking a step forward to whisper her response, "She didn't take the news well. She was not ready to face everyone after what her mother had done. She left a note in which she apologised to everyone and said she didn't want to be found."

Out of the thousands of spells she proclaimed to know, was there not one that could save her? I find myself in the library, a sanctuary of sorts, away from the prying eyes of the court. The musty smell of old books and the faint scent of burning wax provide a familiar comfort. I trace my fingers over the spines of ancient tomes, picking out one titled ‘Rogueness and the Struggles to Find a Cure’. It’s a book I keep coming back to, its worn pages an evidence to my desperate search for answers. I slump down on the cushioned bench and flip the pages. It opens where I expect it to—revealing a dried rose, tucked between the pages. The petals are brittle, a cruel reminder of a time long past, of a

Her spare hand immediately went for rescue and waved in front of the nose to remove the foreign particles that made her sneeze. Once she regained her breath, she moves her long and pale fingers over the beautiful cover. The golden letters engraved on the thick leather, left her mesmerized. She consecutively traced a golden rose drawn at another corner. ‘DEVIL’S REDEMPTION’ The cover screamed, and she eagerly took her place back on the same chair. As she opened the first page, a dried rose fell from within the book. Smiling, she picked it up and gently placed it back on its original position. The dried rose has withered from the edges and will soon turn into dust. The rose belonged to her dec

But I didn't get a chance to call it out when she continued . “I stumbled upon this book the other day. By mistake, obviously. I thought it was a theological study on ‘Fellowship,’ but it was actually this incredibly sappy romance story about two childhood best friends who fall in love after they made a promise to marry each other if they were still single by thirty.” She let out what sounded like a nervous, high-pitched giggle. “They were very scandalous scenes in the book, Leon,” Rose murmured in a low voice. “Their…sexual escapades were so vividly described I couldn't stop blushing, but I couldn't stop reading either.” She laughed again.

But all she could do was cry and mourn a life that never got its chance to be happy—just like her mother. The emptiness she felt inside was overwhelming. It was an ache she had carried for so long. And so she buried her face in her hands while her body shook with sobs. Rosalind's fate, intertwined with the pain of her own past, felt unbearable. Her chest ached, and her tears wouldn't stop. But just then, as she was drowning in her overwhelming emotion, something strange began to happen. The book in her lap grew warm and an unsettling heat radiated through her fingertips.

"Begin the operation. The target is Eloise Vance." Tears I didn't know I had left to cry streamed down my face, mixing with the taste of blood in my mouth. The ultimate tragedy was this: I wasn't defeated by another woman, but by his own ambition and his so-called greater good. My broken body was all but dragged to the herb garden I once treasured. It had been my sanctuary. I never imagined it would become my grave. Rosalind was already waiting for me. She stood before the ruined Moonlight Flower bed, holding an exquisite silver dagger.

The quiet of the locker room felt oppressive now, and she could almost hear her own heartbeat in the stillness. With careful fingers, she tore open the envelope, her mind racing with possibilities. What was this? Who would leave something like this for her? Inside, she found a black rose—its petals wilted and fragile, as though it had been picked long ago and left to die. Its deep color seemed to draw all the light from the room, casting an eerie shadow on the paper beneath it. Olivia’s breath hitched as she carefully picked it up, her skin cold as she held it in her palm.

“You’re very eager for me to open a mystery box.” She laughed. “Well, now I want to know what’s inside.” I shook my head and reached for the lid. I lifted it. My smile disappeared. Inside the box were long-stemmed red roses. A lot of them. For a second, I just stared at them. Then I noticed something wrong. Every single rose was dead. They weren’t just a little wilted. Not slightly dried out. Dead. The petals had lost their color and hung limp against the stems. Some had already fallen loose inside the box.

His arm goes around my shoulders and I lean into the warmth of him and we stand there while the city glitters outside. "You good?" he says, after a while. I look at the ring. At the black diamond rose. I think about Oslo and Singapore and a corridor with gunpowder in the air and a boy I lit a candle for in a church and a man who walked out a door into the dark and all the things I lost getting to this window, this room, this arm around my shoulders. "Yeah," I say. "Really good."