Never Dying Flowers Novels & Stories

There was no grass, and only bitter winds blew. The only visible things were the flowers growing on both sides of the road, appearing extremely beautiful and lush. Those were red spider lilies, also known as lycoris radiata, or the corpse flower. It was said the flowers bloom for a thousand years and withered for another thousand years, so the flowers and leaves never meet. Love transcended karma, and destiny dictated life and death. It was said to be the flower of the underworld, growing by the banks of the river of oblivion. It was beautiful, ominously so.

I don’t understand the look he has on his face—his eyes are dark, and his lips are parted slightly as if he wants to say something to me. “ Vi—Vitora… ” I croak, my reactions and thoughts slow. It feels like I am floating in the air, so light and still. I am dying again, it seems. And I wonder for the third time… What do I feel now? But I still don’t have the answer to that. It’s like my mind has gone blank, and I have accepted my fate truly. Yes, I am dying. But what’s new? “ The—The flowers you saw… ” I don’t know how I manage to talk, but I do. “ They—can…kill the vampires…Use them…like they use wolfsbane—wolfsbane against Lycans. ”

Forever blooming. In soil made rich by grief. In earth watered by tears. In gardens where love refuses to die. Where it grows instead. Where it transforms. Where it becomes— Everything. Finally. Really. Permanently. Everything that matters. Everything worth carrying. Everything worth— Living for. Dying for. Remembering for. Forever.

Yohan asked. “We’re sure enough that not many people know her by her face, that’s her biggest asset and advantage. So people don’t really know that she died… if she died.” Theo pointed out. “She was already dead for a few minutes, it’s damn near impossible they could have revived her. Was it a bad idea I sent her corpse back?” “If she did, do you think she’s trying to get back at us for doing what we did?” Oswald asked, needing a few more drinks to loosen up.

Alexandria POV: When Wyatt crashed into the room, I was nervous but excited. May was just howling in my head, she was so happy. I didn't understand how or why I was going to get a second chance mate. This was unheard of. Once you rejected your mate, that was it. There wasn't supposed to be any second chances.

Mila cried again and the flower halted again. Mila plucked it and waited for it either shrivel up or blossom again. But nothing happened. Neither did the flower shrivel nor did it blossom again. And she knew it magic at its core. The bloom would blossom only when the flower in her hand would die, and it won’t die unless the flower in her hand was used.

The realization that I was dead and would never again sit with everyone I loved overwhelmed me, and I began to weep uncontrollably. “Clara…” I turned in surprise at the sound of Lucas’s voice. I watched as he approached, a vibrant bouquet of red roses cradled in his arms. I stood frozen as he placed the flowers atop my gravestone. He sighed quietly. For a moment, I feared he could see me. His eyes were red and swollen, bloodshot with exhaustion. Stubble lined his jaw, and no emotion appeared in his gaze. I glanced at the bouquet and laughed softly. “Who brings red roses to a funeral, Lucas? I honestly don’t know what to say to you.”

I greatly appreciate your help! Mr. Joe was sitting there admiring the daffodils that were growing in the flower pot that was situated on the table. This particular daffodil blossom adores water, which is fitting for a flower that is so in love with itself that it cannot love anyone else. A lovely flower, but one that doesn't care about anything but itself. Who is to say that beauty, no matter how flawless or exquisite it may be, is ultimately nothing more than a flower reflected in a mirror or the moon submerged in the ocean?

Yeah everything looks all pristine and innocent during the day, but night time around the packhouse can be pretty fucking terrifying. And I’m the reaper himself. I have fourteen dead flies on my legs. Insects, yes, and definitely not sexy looking. But symbols of the males that tried to take me down and fuckin’ failed. But I know better than anyone, even my wolf… Flyers don’t live forever. We do our part to make this world a better place and try to leave it for those after us to prosper. Doze shakes his head and before he speaks, I already know why he’s pissed.

She knew that from today on, their family would never return to the way it had been. ...... She took Anya's body and went to the funeral home. She watched as they had Anya cremated. What was once a child turned into countless specks of ashes. She did not shed a single tear throughout the process, living like a walking corpse. After that, she requested that the ashes be put in a tiny capsule so that she could string it on a chain and wear it like a necklace. Instead of having Anya buried six feet under, she preferred to have the child with her at all times.