Nothing Burns Like The Cold Novels & Stories

Raven ignored her, going to the tap with a glass cup and turning on the faucet as she said in one breath, "Mum, where's Armando? The one who cooks?" Annabelle turned to look at her daughter, and let her eyes sweep through her body. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" Raven immediately gulped down the water, hissing when it didn't do anything to reduce the burn then put her hand under the faucet, splashing water on her face before groaning. "Why am I on fire?!" As she turned to face her Mother, there was an amused look on the older woman's face that weirdly irritated her. "What's funny?"

Luke Cold. It settles into my bones like it belongs there. Like it’s always belonged there. My fingers ache before I can feel them. I try to move them and they respond slowly, stiff, unreliable. The air burns when I breathe in. My teeth knock together once. I clamp my jaw shut to stop it. Don’t shake. I pull my arms closer to my body but it doesn’t help. Nothing helps when the cold is inside you instead of around you. There’s a weight at my back, solid and unmoving. Brick maybe concrete. Something that doesn’t care if I’m there.

"I don't believe in miracles anymore, Ben. I believe in stubbornly refusing to die. There's a difference." "Is there?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Sometimes I think your stubborn refusal to give up is the closest thing to a miracle I've seen since The Burning." The mention of The Burning made my chest tighten, as it always did. The memories were still too fresh, too raw. I could still smell the smoke, hear the screms, see the sky turning that terrible shade of orange as the world caught fire. I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Tell me. How has your recovery been in the last few days? What memories have you regained? Have you reconnected to anyone you know?” “Fine, none and not really, unless you count the doorman in my apartment building,” his reply was dry, but Dr. Temple laughed heartily, touching his injured wrist with the tips of her fingers. As subtly as he could, he pulled his wrist away. He wasn’t sure if the burn was because of her touch in particular or if it was just the injury itself, but he found the sensation unbearable. She narrowed her reddish-brown eyes at him for a moment and then resumed her eerie smiling expression.

That is it, I just wish to see my mother one more time, to say goodbye one last time. I look down at my arm when a raged cold pain erupts in the appendage. The snowy color colonizes through the rest of my body. Burning me with the numbing artic temperature, feeling as if I were thrown in a wintery, iced-over lake. A screech explodes through my throat, the torment being too much to not keep silent about it. "Help, help, it's freezing cold!" I yell out hoping the man could help me. However when they do reply it is also begging for a savior. "Help, it's burning hot!"

“In human form, we can create the Blaz Flame and the Cold Flame. Cold Flame is the regular kind of fire which we see in every household. It can burn down a human but supernatural creatures can recover from it. A Blaz Flame is more dangerous. Any area burnt with this flame will result in instant death. Luckily, this flame does not have a long range. It is only for enemies who are up close.” “And the last one?” Anna asks. “The last one-” CRACK! They are startled when they hear the cracking of twigs. Both of them spin around. Anna has her blade out while Lavi is ready to attack with his flames. They can smell the scent of the person. “Nine!” Anna yells. “I can smell you! Come out!” They are sta

she tells me. She starts chanting words in an ancient tongue when I feel a pull in my chest. It doesn't hurt; it's just uncomfortable. But then, my mark starts to burn; it feels like someone took a hot iron to my neck. I bite my cheeks to suppress a scream, but the pain only worsens. I feel sweat trickling down my temples, but I won't tell her to stop. I need this mark removed from my neck. The burn spreads all the way to my chest, enveloping my heart in pure fire. I feel that same cold start vibrating in my chest, the cold I felt during the rogue attack. But as soon as I feel it, it's gone.

Panic rippled through the crowd, but not a single person stepped forward to help. While holding my breath, I pushed through the chaos and loosened Oliver's collar. "Wake up! Don't fall asleep!" But his pupils had already gone dull. He was too weak to respond. Suddenly, a still-burning cigarette butt droppped nearby and reignited the lingering hydrogen. In an instant, flames shot up toward the sky, and a wave of scorching heat slammed into us. Screams erupted around me. In the chaos, I was shoved and trampled, my wrists and ankles swollen and throbbing.

Please check out MR KING. Do not fret, COLD has not been neglected. It is drawing closer to the end, that's all I'm willing to say right now;). Happy reading! Stay safe xx

Sophie's POV The cold came first. Not the controlled chill of Damien's penthouse climate system, nor the crisp autumn air beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. This was the lethal cold of honed steel pressed against my jugular - so sharp it burned like fire where it touched skin.