Love And Fire Novels & Stories

Faster and faster, the wall of fire swirled and built until finally the entire courtyard had been consumed in a fiery kiss. If another human had been present for the phenomenon, they would have compared it to the pits of hell. Wanting ever more power to be gained and harnessed and un- leashed, Oliver stretched out his hands as if being crucified and called the flames back to him. As the destruction compacted and convulsed angrily, he flung his hands to the heavens. The swirling, convulsing maelstrom of fire obeyed him in totality

When I look at him, his blue eyes riveted on me, I forget everyone else around us and my music becomes all for him. This bond we have crackling and flaming between us is growing stronger, and I can feel it despite the adversity that seems intent on pushing us apart. The flames of the fire symbolise the passion I have always dreamed of. I feel it sparking and igniting our hearts to forge together. Since that day we first met, it has grown brighter and steadier, the embers never going out but becoming hotter. This fire could ravage through all in its path, leaving us in ashes. Or it could continue steadily with the right choices we make -- selfless and sacrificial.

As soon as he's on the ground, she steps on his chest and grabs onto his head, holding it inches from the burning fire. "Did ya miss me?!" She grins, seething with rage. "What the hell are you doing here?! Who let you in??" He cries. She smiles, "We got a little creative..." I hear footsteps behind me. I pull my gun and turn around, but it is just Bruno, Leon, and Ishir. They all gather around us. His frightened eyes beam down Ishir. "Ishir?!! What are you-" She shakes his head closer to the fire.

“No… like a bride about to be married.” Love is a feeling that burns you from the inside like fire. It lifts you to the sky, then throws you into hell. Yet it exists inside us. Sometimes I ask myself… why would God place such fire in our hearts if not to burn us? Maybe not to hurt us, but to teach us that the greatest pleasures come from the deepest pain, and that love, no matter how forbidden or impossible, is proof that we are alive. While the music filled the hall, his eyes never left me… me in my revealing white dress, laughing and talking to the boy Edric my mother introduced me to. Glacier moved toward me like a dark shadow no one else could see.

Third-person POV At that moment, Frank was sitting in his office, reviewing the investigation report his subordinates had sent him. The first report was a miscarriage report, which clearly stated that Darcy had suffered a miscarriage on the day of the fire. The cause of the miscarriage had also been determined through investigation and reviewing surveillance footage. Frank had shaken off Darcy's hand during the fire and hadn't heard her cries for help. The second report stated that Johanna had been deliberately spreading rumors to manipulate public opinion around this time.

Behind them was the house I once carefully decorated. Then, a giant banner hung on the wall. "Warmly Welcome Expert Larisse for Guidance." Below the photo was a caption Harry posted. [Goodbye to the past. Embrace science. Grateful to Larisse for safeguarding Adrian's future. In a family, shared understanding and unified steps matter most.] The comments were buzzing. [This wife is crazy. Had a perfectly good life and still chose to run away.] [Exactly. Look at this new Larisse. So elegant. You can tell she's highly educated.]

The fire rages outside the window behind him, framing him in flames. He looks up. Not surprised. Expecting us. “Mara.” He smiles. The smile is wrong. Broken. “And Adrian. Together. To the end.” “Get up,” Mara says. “Come out. The fire…” “The fire is mine.” He stands. The movement is slow but controlled. Even now. “I started it. I control it. The way I controlled everything. The way I loved you.” “This isn’t love,” she says. “This is what love becomes,” he interrupts. “When it’s rejected. When it’s replaced by poetry. By uncertainty. By the performance of not knowing.”

“Get lost! Don’t touch her! She’s afraid of pain!” He fell on his knees on top of the blood. Then, with trembling hands, he tried to piece my broken body back together. Blood instantly soaked his suit red. But he hugged my mangled body tightly and pressed his face against my bloody hospital gown as he howled, “Elena, get up! I won’t force you to do things you don’t want anymore! I won’t marry Jody! Get up! Save her, doctor! Take my blood and heart! Save her!”

"The jeweler must’ve made a mistake. I’ll have it resized right now." "Don’t bother." I grabbed his wrist and gently placed the ring back in his palm. "You know," I said softly, "the night I lost our child, I was bleeding out, calling you over and over. But you were too busy setting off fireworks with Luna. That helplessness, lying alone on an operating table—I’ll never forget it. And after that night, I decided that I’d never love you again." I looked him in the eye as the weight of my words settled over him.

“Tell me this is real.” She cupped his face, grounding them both. “It’s real.” He kissed her again, slower this time, every movement deliberate, every touch purposeful. And when he finally slid into her, it wasn’t rushed. It was deep and aching and full of things they hadn’t dared say out loud yet. They moved together, slow and sinuous, like they had all the time in the world. Like this wasn’t just lust. It was everything they couldn’t say with words—fear, longing, love, all rolled into a rhythm that made the rest of the world disappear.