Love Burned She Rose Unscathed Novels & Stories

I'm lina, a young girl of 23 years old. My parent died when I was twelve years old in a plane crash, leaving me empty with nothing. After my parent's death, my anuty. My mum's younger sister took me in as she is the only person in my mum's family alive. She was more than an anuty to me. She was my only family. The day that was supposed to be my happiest day turned into pain as she left me leaving behind my nephew whom she gave birth to. I took it upon myself to take care of my handsome nephew but one thing is the problem. A secret, I'm yet to know. one was to find out who the father of my nephew was, and two were able to avoid them. Since some people seem to be looking for my nephew. Another one was to find out the person responsible for my parent's death but one thing that I promised myself was never to fall in love with any man after the last thing that happened to my anuty, left by her supposed boyfriend after he found out. She was pregnant which I believed was one of the reasons. She couldn't survive. To me, love was a scam but after one nightstand after I drank myself stupor in a club to calm myself. I realized. I had a one-night stand. I looked around the room and sighed in relief and picked up my clothes to leave but was shocked when I heard a magnetic voice behind me just before my hand touched the doorknob. " Where are you going lady?" I froze. What have I gotten myself into? I asked myself Since that day my once peaceful world was turned upside down and some mysteries and dark secrets were revealed.

On the day I'm set to give birth, a rogue crashes his car into the convoy that's meant to transport me and Alison Cranwell to the hospital for a prenatal check-up. My water breaks the moment the crash happens. A mixture of blood and amniotic sap soon dyes my seat crimson. At the same time, intense pain flares from my abdomen. My Alpha mate, Caleb Bright, rushes over immediately and hoists the doctor by the collar. "You must protect the she-wolves and their pups!" Warmth floods my heart at that moment. It continues spreading throughout my body until I get wheeled into an operating theater. Since the general anesthesia has yet to fully take effect, I can vaguely make out Marcus Knight, Caleb's Beta, speaking to him in a lowered tone. "The thing is, Alpha Caleb, Luna Selina is suffering from heavy bleeding as well. But we only have one vial of the most effective Lunar Grass essence left. If we don't use it on her, I'm afraid that she and the pup will—" "Alison is pregnant with my dead brother's only pup. She must not be harmed no matter what," Caleb states icily. "Selina is very strong, and her wolf can endure her grievous wounds. As for that pup… well, we'll have another one in the future." But what Caleb doesn't know is that I didn't just lose my pup that night—I've lost the last trace of love I have for him as well.

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

I loved eating cakes. My dad would bring me one every day after work, and my mom bought a full set of oven and baking tools, patiently learning how to bake them for me. I once thought I was the happiest little princess in the world until the day my parents divorced. The person who came to pick up my dad turned out to be the bakery owner. My mom turned to me, growling, "This is all your fault! If you hadn't asked for cakes every day, your dad never would've cheated!" She stretched out her hands, covered in burn scars, and screamed hysterically, "I slaved away making cakes for you, and these hands have never healed since. What did you do? You both think the stuff from outside is so much better!" She grabbed a baking sheet and smacked me hard with it. I bit my lip, not daring to make a sound. That night, she brought home a little girl. Ignoring the pain all over my body, I begged for her forgiveness. "Mom, I'm sorry. Please don't throw me away. I swear I'll never eat another cake!" She slapped me across the face, but that wasn't enough to quench her anger. She tossed me into the big oven. "I'm not your mom! You love cakes so much? Stay in there and reflect on what you've done! You and your worthless dad both deserve to die!" After she slammed the door and stormed out, the little girl skipped over to the oven, grinning smugly as she hit the switch. "From now on, your mom is gonna be mine!" The oven kicked on, and the temperature began to rise. I smiled bitterly. At least this way, my mom could finally be happy.

Rozelyn found out she is a vampire when she turned eighteen. To make matters worse, her stepmom is secretly a vampire as well and Cyrill, her stepmom's adoptive son, is a werewolf behind the shadows. As she live the life of being a vampire, several people had come for her—including the infamous Blood Mistress, a witch who hunts vampires and werewolves. Rozelyn become more fascinated with the vampire life, especially when she found out that sex plays a huge role in a vampire's everyday living and it acts like blood: once they tasted it, they will crave for it even more. Will Rozelyn be able to voice out her secret love to Cyrill without risking the familial relationship they have built for years? Or will she watch her loved ones perish due to her identity as the most powerful vampire to ever live? Amidst all these, only one thing is certain: Blood is thicker than water—either literally or figuratively.

I, Taylor Laurent, go to the hospital's emergency department because of severe abdominal pain. When I wake up, my mom, Jocelyn Nord, stares at me in terror and asks, "You are not my daughter. Who are you?" Helpless and regretful, Hank Gibson, the doctor, says to my mom, "She is your daughter, it's just… an accident." My mom can't accept it and jumps off the hospital building, killing herself instantly. Hank is suspended because of this incident and, under my questioning, chooses to kill himself by hitting a wall. When I finally find my life partner and take the premarital medical exam, the staff tells me something that chills me to my bones.

Five months pregnant, I watched my fated mate’s foster sister pour oil on our sacred threshold and strike the spark. I didn’t reach for the pack-link. Last life, I screamed through our bond. Cassian—my Alpha, the wolf I’d followed since I was six—came for me. Pulled me from the flames while his foster sister burned to charcoal behind us. He said nothing against me, even arranged the best care for my pregnancy. But on the fourth night after our daughter was born, he dragged us to the Blood Moon altar. He stood upon the High Rock, silver fur gleaming in the dark, and gave the order. His enforcers pinned me to the stone. He watched, silent and still, as they lit the pyre beneath our daughter’s body first—then mine. "You let Eira burn," he said, while the flames devoured us. "So you burn with what you loved." When I opened my eyes, I was back on the floor of our burning den.

Married to Enzo for three years, his heart had always belonged to his childhood sweetheart, Bianca. The cut of the family business that was rightfully mine became her jewelry, and the keepsakes my brother Luca left behind were casually gifted to her by Enzo. I gave him everything, yet I remained invisible. I chose to step aside, turn my back, and vanish from his world completely. After that, the cold-hearted man lost control. He tore Little Italy apart looking for me, begging me to return. But this time, I’m never going back.

He is the most terrifying man in the Empire—Hadrian, the Lord Protector. Cold, ruthless, and dictatorial, he rules the chaotic world with an iron fist, crushing rebellions without mercy. To the world, he is a monster devoid of human emotion; a tyrant who bathes in blood. She is a rose growing in the mire—an ordinary, low-born girl struggling to survive in the slums. She possesses nothing but her pride and a fragile life. Their worlds should never have collided. But in a twist of fate amidst the smoke of revolution, the lofty Dictator set his eyes on the humble commoner. He didn't know how to love, so he used the only method he knew: Conquest. He clipped her wings, trapped her in his gilded cage, and forced her to bloom only for him. "You fear me," Hadrian whispered, his fingers tracing her trembling lips. "Good. Because in this lifetime, you will never escape me." In a game of power and submission, can a tyrant learn to kneel for love? And can a bird in a cage tame the beast?

On the week before Valentine's Day, I want to buy my husband, Grayson Strickland, who works as a university professor, an electronic toothbrush as a gift. That's when I see a review with over ten thousand likes on a particular online store. "I recommend buying from this store! This store's electronic toothbrush is super durable! I've never had to charge this toothbrush for half a year!" Three days later, an additional response is made to that comment. "I'm sorry for misleading everyone. It turns out that my husband has been charging this toothbrush this whole time. It's my fault for being such a doofus! I even pestered him for a long time before I finally found out that he has done a lot for me! "I never have to add toilet rolls to the bathroom. All I thought is that the same toilet roll is extremely thick. The membership that I have on the TV app is often paid for and extended, and yet I thought there was a bug in the app software somehow. Some time ago, the peeling dry skin on my lips miraculously healed. It turns out he was the one who kept applying lip balm onto my lip at night. "He's a university professor, you see. In the past, I often blamed him for not knowing what being romantic was like. But now, I finally realize that those who love you will have a way of showing you how it's done." The rest of the comment section is filled with wailing complaints. They all complain that Valentine's Day isn't even here, and yet they are already sick of the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Amid the Internet users' constant requests, the poster finally uploads the handsome side profile of her husband. Feeling rather envious, I tap on the photo, only for my smile to freeze on my face. That photo actually features Grayson! As I stare at my mother-in-law, who has been paralyzed in bed for the past six years, I recall the fact that Grayson lives on the university campus all around the year. That's when uneasiness begins plaguing me. As expected, when I bring my marriage certificate to the County Clerk’s office and ask about it, the clerk points at the stamp and says, "Your marriage certificate is fake. Mr. Grayson Strickland's spouse is another woman named Callista Whitman." My fingers go slack subconsciously, causing the fake marriage certificate to fall to the floor. A chuckle of despair escapes my lips. Everyone knows that Callista is Grayson's student. She's his most prized student as well as the person who knows him the best. As for me… I'm just a free caretaker whom he has "hired".